and sure enough, my record was finally located at the London
hospital.

It was one of the best errors that could have happened, for very soon I
found myself in the "Craigleith Military Hospital" within commuting
distance of my relatives and friends. I never heard any more of my friend
"Bill Mortimer," but I have no doubt the "error" proved a good one to him
also.

Two medical officers looked me over very carefully the first day. The next
day they came back accompanied by the chief medical officer, Colonel
Cottrill. After the latter examined me carefully he said that "an
immediate amputation would be the wisest plan." He asked me whether other
examining physicians had told me the same thing.

I said: "Yes; but I think it will be all right. See, I can wiggle my
toes." And I pointed out that this was a sure sign of hope for a recovery
without amputation.

Then commenced a daily routine of bandaging which stretched into months;
every conceivable treatment for my betterment was given me; a
plaster-of-Paris cast was put on my knee, and after it was on a week or
two, the effect was simply wonderful.

By this time, my hand could be used a little, but I found myself minus a
finger and with two others broken. They, however, healed to normal.

Every week, during our long stay in the hospital, entertainments were
given for us by professional actors and actresses. Visitors were permitted
to call Wednesdays and Sundays from 1 to 4 P.M.; on other days from 1 to 3
P.M. I cannot describe the generosity and kindness of the people of
Edinburgh.

Every day came armfuls of flowers--the most soothing offering a
convalescent Tommy can receive, outside of the occasional kiss some dear
wee lass would imprint on his cheek. Both are wonderful in their ability
to cheer a lonesome Tommy, who, perhaps, finds himself far from his home
folk! Every day the ladies and young girls of the town came to sit by our
cots and read to us or write our letters. It was an enormous hospital,
having often as many as 1100 patients and every man in it, even those who
were strangers in Scotland, had daily visitors in plenty. English and
Welsh soldiers, too far from home to receive the attention of their own
people, were given even more favours than the Scots. Every day, a flock of
big motor cars drew up and carried away those who were far enough toward
recovery for a ride. We had many delightful hours rolling swiftly through
the picturesque city of Edinburgh, a