eeing this, instantly recovered, and
leaping briskly to his feet told them to countermand the
stretcher-bearers and pressed forward to the attack with renewed
vigour.

Just as we left De Aar a train full of Queensland Mounted Infantry was
entering the station _en route_ for the front. The occupants were in the
highest spirits and cheered loudly. "Ah!" said some of our poor fellows,
"we were like that when we went up!" The contrast between the two
trains--there, life and vigour: here, weakness and death--was very
striking.

So far from being "absent-minded" about their people at home, the
wounded soldiers were continually thinking about their sweethearts,
wives and families. Several soldiers in my ward, _e.g._, had lined their
helmets with ostrich feathers. "My eye," said they, "won't the missus
look fine in these!" One of the reservists asked me: "Do you think I
shall lose my thigh? You see, I want to do the best I can for my family,
and if I do lose my leg I shall be useless, as I work in the pits in
Fife." Another Scotchman, a shoemaker, was full of anxiety about the
future support of his wife and children. "If only my wound," he said
dejectedly, "had been below my knee instead of above it! Because
this"--pointing to the wounded spot--"is just the place I use for my
work."

Yes! to mix with the rank and file of an army as one of themselves is a
great privilege. One understands them in this way far better than
through the medium of books. Many little acts of unostentatious heroism
are casually spoken of--noble deeds done by humble soldiers who live
without a history and often perish without a memorial--as, for instance,
the devotion of a private at Modder River who applied digital pressure
to the severed artery of a comrade for hours under fire and so saved his
life. Again, the soldier's religion, where it exists, is often very
genuine indeed. Just after the Magersfontein reverse a wounded
Highlander entreated me to find his rosary for him which was hidden
under a pile of accoutrements. On another occasion we picked up on the
floor of the train a piece of paper which proved to be the will of a
poor private, a Roman Catholic, who left "all he possessed" to the
Church. I need not say that this will was forwarded to the proper
quarter. The wounded men too were frequently very grateful for any
little services one could render them, and made us odd little presents
by way of return. One H.L.I. man gave me the badges from