wounded men were only Germans it did not matter.

Captain Dowden took no part in this experiment. In fact he even
suggested that it was "a bit thick," but his disapproval did not assume
a more tangible form.

After finishing one case each, the four surgeons and anæsthetists
changed back again.

"Surgery, isn't so bad as I thought it would be."

"Isn't it--you wait till you get an abdominal!"

"Giving an anæsthetic's rather a ticklish affair. I thought my man was
going to choke to death, he got so blue in the face."

A few more Germans with slight flesh wounds that only required dressing
were brought in, and then the work of the night shift was over.

The surgeons, anæsthetists and sisters trooped out gaily to have tea and
cakes in the shed opposite the entrance to the theatre.

Our work was not yet over, for we still had to put everything in order
for the day shift.

The operating theatre looked like a butcher's shop. There were big pools
and splashes of blood on the floor. Bits of flesh and skin and bone were
littered everywhere. The gowns of the orderlies were stained and
bespattered with blood and yellow picric acid. Each bucket was full of
blood-sodden towels, splints, and bandages, with a foot, or a hand, or