appearance of the nuns in their mediaeval dress was very
striking.

Suddenly one Sunday morning the cannonading ceased--there was dead
silence--Maubeuge was taken, and the German army passed on into France.
It is difficult to explain the desolating effect when the cannon
suddenly ceases. At first one fears and hates it, then one gets
accustomed to it and one feels at least _something is being done_--there
is still a chance. When it ceases altogether there is a sense of utter
desertion, as if all hope had been given up.

* * * * *

On the morning of September 1 the German commandant suddenly appeared in
the wards at 7 o'clock, and said that all the German wounded were going
to be sent off to Germany at once, and that wagons would be coming in an
hour's time to take them to the station. We had several men who were not
fit to travel, amongst them a soldier who had had his leg amputated only
twelve hours before. I ought to have learnt by that time the futility
of argument with a German official, but I pleaded very hard that a few
of the men might be left till they were a little better able to stand
the journey, for there is no nationality among wounded, and we could not
bear even German patients to undergo unnecessary suffering. But my
remonstrances were quite in vain, and one could not help wondering what
would become of _our_ wounded if the Germans treated their own so
harshly. I heard from other ambulances that it was their experience as
well as mine that the lightly wounded were very well looked after, but
the severely wounded were often very inconsiderately treated. They were
no longer any use as fighting machines and only fit for the scrap-heap.
It is all part of the German system. They are out for one purpose only,
that is to win--and they go forward with this one end in
view--everything else, including the care of the wounded, is a
side-issue and must be disregarded and sacrificed if necessary.

We prepared the men as well as we could for the long ride in the wagons
that must precede the still longer train journey. Once on the
ambulance-train, however, they would be well looked after; it was the
jolting on the country road I feared for many of them. None of us were
permitted to accompany them to Charleroi station, but the driver of one
of the wagons told me afterwards that the man with the amputated leg had
been taken out dead at the station, as he had had a severe haemorrhage on
t