And we would take the "next man" over and help him to mount one of the
tables.

They were all very quiet at first and many sat with bowed heads. Some
were dreading the operation, others, who were not badly wounded, looked
bright and cheerful, as well they might, for they were going to have a
holiday, perhaps in England, but anyhow at the Base, where they would
enjoy a respite from danger, hardship, and misery--a respite that might
last for weeks. And in the meantime the war might come to an end--one
could never tell.

Two infantrymen with packs and rifles passed by. They had been
discharged from the C.C.S. and were going to rejoin their units. They
stopped outside the waiting-room for a few minutes and looked enviously
at the wounded sitting round the stove inside, and murmured with deep
conviction: "Lucky devils."

A patient came out of the theatre with bandaged arm. He held a large,
semi-circular piece of iron in his hand.

"Is that what they took out o' yer arm?" said one of the infantrymen.

"Yes--decent bit, isn't it!"

"Gorblimy, I wish I could 'ave a bit like that, in me knee or somewhere,
to lay me up for months."

His comrade added in a voice full of hopeless longing:

"I wish I were in his shoes. Anything to keep out of that hell up the