'I know of no instance of such an epidemic in modern warfare. I
have not had access to any official figures, but I believe that in
one month there were from 10,000 to 12,000 men down with this, the
most debilitating of all diseases. I know that in one month 600 men
were laid in the Bloemfontein cemetery. A single day in this one
town saw 40 deaths.'

He speaks in the highest terms of the conduct of the sick soldiers.

'They are uniformly patient, docile, and cheerful, with an
inextinguishable hope of "getting to Pretoria." There is a
gallantry even about their delirium, for their delusion continually
is that they have won the Victoria Cross. One patient whom I found
the other day rummaging under his pillow informed me that he was
looking for "his two Victoria Crosses." Very touching also is their
care of each other. The bond which unites two soldier pals is one
of the most sacred kind. One man shot in three places was being
carried into Mr. Gibbs' ward. I lent an arm to his friend, shot
through the leg, who limped behind him. "I want to be next Jim,
'cos I'm looking after him," said he. That he needed looking after
himself never seemed to have occurred to him.'


=The Hospital Orderlies.=

Dr. Conan Doyle, however, reserves his highest praise for the hospital
orderly. We venture to quote at length, because of all workers during
this campaign none deserve higher praise, and none will receive less
reward than the men who have so nobly, so uncomplainingly done the
horrible work of nursing--'the sordid and obscene work,' as Dr. Doyle