is firing slowly and regularly, and the shells scream over the road on
their way to the enemy. A corner is turned and the road gets better. We
draw up at a building with no light showing, and R.A.M.C. orderlies come
up the steps from a cellar. This is the advanced dressing station; it
collects from a brigade front and there are two doctors at work. A large
window covered with sacking opens at the level of the ground into the
cellar, and the wounded are lifted through it. Some will stay here all
night, but the most seriously hurt are sent on to the casualty clearing
station five or six miles back. Hot drinks are going and are welcome,
for the injured men are trembling and sick with shock. Two new drivers
come up from their dug-out, yawning, and take over; a message has just
come in that the 'P' trenches have been 'hotted' by trench mortars and
cars must go back again at once. The ambulances move off, leaving the
doctors busy, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. The second stage in the
journey has been completed.

The cars are moving much more quickly now. Lights are still burning in
divisional headquarters, but the field ambulance headquarters are dark,
save for the lamp burning before the gate. An ambulance may have two or
three advanced dressing stations collecting from a divisional front.
Twin lamps on a pole, white and red, draw nearer and faintly light up
two flags, the Union Jack and the Red Cross. The Union Jack in Flanders
is only seen in conjunction with the Red Cross, or perhaps over the
dead body at a funeral; unless the Commander-in-chief comes round, when
the flag is carried behind him on a lance. The cars turn at right angles
into a gravelled yard and draw up before a large door. A corporal, who
has been sitting in a glass vestibule, puts his head inside the inner
door and shouts 'Stretcher bearers!' An orderly crosses quickly to the
office and reports to the orderly officer, 'Two cars with stretcher
cases.' The doctor crosses to the reception room and begins to examine