made a strange picture. The largest wound was just above one ear. A
local anæsthetic was injected and the skin round the injury pushed back.
With a pair of curved pincers the surgeon broke away bits of bone from
the edge of the hole. Then he pushed his little finger deeply into it
and fetched out a large bone fragment and a quantity of soft matter,
coloured a pale red, which he allowed to flop down on to the floor. The
man was motionless except that he violently wagged his left big toe. And
all the time he made a continuous cooing, purring noise, like that of a
brooding hen.

The surgeon working at the next table, Captain Wycherley, received a
"case" with a shattered right arm and a right thigh. He called his
colleague, Captain Calthrop, over, and the two operated together, the
one amputating the arm and the other the leg.

Meanwhile the head case was replaced by a boy who came walking into the
theatre and mounted the table unassisted. His right eye was bandaged. As
he became unconscious under gas the bandage was removed. With a few
dexterous strokes of his scalpel Captain Dowden removed all that was
left of the eyeball, a dark, amorphous mess. The wound was cleaned,
dressed and bandaged. The boy regained consciousness. For a moment he
looked vacantly round. Then he slowly raised his hand to the bandage,
and, turning down the corners of his mouth suddenly broke into bitter
weeping. He was gently helped down from the table and led out of the
theatre, crying: "They've done for me eye, oh, oh, oh, they've done for
me eye!"

"Poor kid," murmured the Captain sympathetically, and began to operate
on the next man, who had a wound in his shoulder about as large as a
hand. In the middle of the raw flesh a short length of undamaged bone