Flanders was all spent behind the French and Belgian lines.--ED.

Mrs. Knocker came into Dunkirk for a night's rest while I was staying
there. She had been out all the previous day in a storm of wind and rain
driving an ambulance. It was heavy with wounded, and shells were
dropping very near. She--the most courageous woman that ever lived--was
quite unnerved at last. The glass of the car she was driving was dim
with rain and she could carry no lights, and with this swaying load of
injured men behind her on the rutty road she had to stick to her wheel
and go on.

Some one said to her, "There is a doctor in such-and-such a farmhouse,
and he has no dressings. You must take him these."

She demurred (a most unusual thing for her), but men do not protect
women in this war, and they said she had to take them. She asked one of
the least wounded of the men to get down and see what was in front of
her, and he disappeared altogether. The dark mass she had seen in the
road was a huge hole made by a shell! After steering into dead horses
and going over awful roads Mrs. Knocker came bumping into the yard,
steering so badly that they ran to see what was wrong, and they found
her fainting, and she was carried into the house. At Dunkirk she got a
good dinner and a night's rest.

_Furnes. 5 November._--The hospital is beginning to fill up again, and
the nurses are depressed because only those cases which are nearly
hopeless are allowed to stay, so it is death on all sides and just a
hell of suffering. One man yelled to me to-night to kill him. I wish I
might have done so. The tragedy of war presses with a fearful weight
after being in a hospital, and wherever one is one hears the infernal