The Canadians and English who poured in from Ypres were terribly
damaged, and the asphyxiating gas seems to have been simply diabolical.
It was awful to see human beings so mangled, and I never get one bit
accustomed to it. The streets were full of British soldiers, and the
hospitals swarmed with wounded. I went to visit the Casino one. The
bright sun streamed through lowered blinds on hundreds of beds, and on
stretchers lying between them. Many Canadians were there, and rows of
British. God! how they were knocked about! The vast rooms echoed to the
cries of pain. The men were vowing they could never face shells and hand
grenades any more. They were so newly wounded, poor boys; but they come
up smiling when their country calls again.

But it _isn't right_. This damage to human life is horrible. It is
madness to slaughter these thousands of young men. Almost at last, in a
rage, one feels inclined to cry out against the sheer imbecility of it.
Why bring lives into the world and shell them out of it with jagged
pieces of iron, and knives thrust through their quivering flesh? The
pain of it is all too much. I am _sick_ with seeing suffering.

[Page Heading: DUNKIRK SHELLED]

On Thursday, April 29th, Mr. Cooper, and another man came for us, and we
left Boulogne. At Dunkirk we could hardly credit our eyes--the place had
been shelled that very afternoon! I never saw such a look of
bewilderment and horror as there was on all faces. No one had ever
dreamed that the place could be hit by a German gun, yet here were
houses falling as if by magic, and no one knew for a moment where on
earth or in heaven the shells were coming from. Some people said they
came from the sea, but the houses I saw hadn't been hit from the sea,