The Mayor of the town opened the performance with a long speech, the
purport of which I forget, but it lasted one hour and ten minutes, and
then the performance began. There were several intervals during which
the entire audience left the salle and perambulated along the wide
corridors round the building to greet their friends, and drink champagne
out of large flat glasses, served at fabulous prices by fair ladies of
the town clad in smart muslin dresses. The French Governor-General,
covered with stars and orders, was there in state with his
aides-de-camp, and the Belgian General ditto, and everyone shook hands
and talked at once. Heasy and I stood and watched the scene fascinated.
Tea seemed to be an unheard of beverage. Presently we espied an
Englishman, very large and very tall, talking to a group of French
people. I remark on the fact because in those days there were no English
anywhere near us, and to see a staff car passing through the town was
quite an event. We were glad, as he was the only Englishman there, that
our people had chosen the largest and tallest representative they could
find. Presently he turned, and looked as surprised to see two khaki-clad
English girls in solar topees (the pre-war F.A.N.Y. headgear), as I
think we were to see him.

The intervals lasted for half an hour, and I came to the conclusion they
were as much, if not more, part of the entertainment as the concert
itself.

It was still going strong when we left at 7 p.m. to go on duty, and the
faithful "Flossie" (our Ford) bore us swiftly back to hospital and
typhoids.

On the night of March 18th, 1915, we had our second Zeppelin raid, when