ve me a little brandy. After
due consideration and much chewing at the ragged end of his eternal
cigar, he replied that as water would be given to a wounded German
soldier, it was good enough for me. Though I pretended not to hear,
these remarks impressed me considerably. The N.C.O. looked after me
very well, and early next morning took me to the station in an
ambulance on my way to Hanover Hospital. Two private soldiers acted as
stretcher-bearers, with the N.C.O. in charge. When the train arrived
it was found that the stretcher was too broad to go into a carriage,
so I travelled in the luggage van, among trunks, bicycles and baskets
of fish. The Germans were quite jolly and sang a few songs, while I,
in a half dead condition, endeavoured to accompany them on my beloved
mandoline. At Hanover I was dumped down at a Red Cross centre below
the station to await the ambulance. Soon quite a pretty nurse (for a
wonder) came up and inquired if I was English. I could not resist
replying in German: "Yes, sister, I am one of those _Schweinhund
Englanders_!" To my surprise she seemed quite embarrassed, and hastily
answered me that they did not say that _now_. (Emphasis on the _now_.)
In the conveyance I lay beside a wounded German private, also bound
for hospital. When my curiosity had broken the ice, he told me that
he had just returned from the Messines Ridge, where he had acquired a
great respect for British artillery and mines (though he himself was a
sapper). The Hanover hospitals which usually take in prisoners are
Nos. 1 and 7; to my relief I was taken to No. 1, which is recognised
as the best. I received practically the same treatment as the German
patients, and occupied a room with three other British officers. Some
of the food we received was quite good, a little fresh milk and
butter, and one or two whitish rolls of bread, and, of course, the
usual doubtful soups. Immediately outside the window was a large
flowering acacia tree, looking delightfully shady and cool after
Stroehen desert. Another luxury we sometimes enjoyed was strawberries,
which the German orderly bought in large quantities, afterwards
selling them to some of the doctors and nurses as well as ourselves.
At frequent intervals a band outside played a very ordinary
uninteresting dead march, announcing each time a German (usually a
patient) had gone "West." Soon after my arrival I saw a Zeppelin
flying very low over the town. I was delighted and remarked to a