hrase Kipling--what we knew before was "Pop"
to what we now had to swallow. The shells simply rained on us,
shrapnel all the time; of course our tent was no protection as it
consisted simply of canvas, and the only thing to do was to keep under
the banks as much as possible. We were jammed full of wounded in no
time. Men rushing into the gully one after another, and even a company
of infantry tried to take shelter there; but that, of course, could
not be allowed. We had our Geneva Cross flag up, and their coming
there only drew fire.

[Illustration: Getting Wounded off after a Fight.]

[Illustration: Water Carts protected by Sand Bags.]

[Illustration: Burial Parties during the Armistice.]

[Illustration: Simpson and his Donkey.]

In three-quarters of an hour we put through fifty-four cases. Many
bearers were hit, and McGowen and Threlfall of the 1st Light Horse
Field Ambulance were killed. Seven of our tent division were wounded.
One man reported to me that he had been sent as a reinforcement, had
been through Samoa, and had just arrived in Gallipoli. While he was
speaking, he sank quietly down without a sound. A bullet had come over
my shoulder into his heart. That was another instance of the fortune
of war. Many men were hit, either before they landed or soon after,
while others could go months with never a scratch. From 2 till 7 p.m.
we dealt with 142 cases.

This shelling lasted for an hour or more, and when it subsided a party
of men arrived with a message from Divisional Headquarters. They had
been instructed to remove as many of the Ambulance as were alive.
Headquarters, it appears, had been watching the firing. We lost very
little time in leaving, and for the night we dossed down in the scrub
a mile further along the beach, where we were only exposed to the fire
of spent bullets coming over the hills. Our fervent prayer was that we
had said good-bye to shells.

The new position was very nice; it had been a farm--in fact the plough
was still there, made of wood, no iron being used in its construction.
Blackberries, olives, and wild thyme grew on the place, and also a
kind of small melon. We did not eat any; we thought we were running
enough risks already; but the cooks used the thyme to flavour the
bovril, and it was a nice addition.

Not far from us something happened that was for all the world like an
incident described by Zola in his "Debacle," when during the
bombardment before Sedan a man went on