to the road and picked up the wounded wherever we could find them.

The churches are nearly all filled with straw, the chairs piled
anywhere, and the sacrament removed from the altar. In cottages and
little inns it is the same thing--a litter of straw, and men lying on it
in the chilly weather. Here and there through some little window one
sees surgeons in their white coats dressing wounds. Half the world seems
to be wounded and inefficient. We filled our ambulance, and stood about
in curious groups of English men and women who looked as if they were on
some shooting-party. When our load was complete we drove home.

Dr. Munro told me that last night he met a German prisoner quite naked
being marched in, proudly holding his head up. Lots of the men fight
naked in the trenches. In hospital we meet delightful German youths.

Amongst others who were brought in to-day was Mr. "Dick" Reading, the
editor of a sporting paper. He was serving in the Belgian army, and was
behind a gun-carriage when it was fired upon and started. Reading clung
on behind with both his legs broken, and he stuck to it till the
gun-carriage was pulled up! He came in on a stretcher as bright as a
button, smoking a cigar and laughing.

[Page Heading: POPERINGHE]

Late this afternoon we had to turn out of Furnes and fly to Poperinghe.
The drive was intensely interesting, through crowds of troops of every
nationality, and the town seemed large and well lighted. It was crowded
with people to see all our ambulances arrive. We went to a café, where
there was a fire but nothing to eat, so some of the party went out and
bought chops, and I cooked them in a stuffy little room which smelt of