Two doctors came out from England on inspection duty to-day. They asked
if I had anything to report, and I made them come to the station to go
into this matter of the different-sized stretchers. It is agony to the
men to be shifted. Dr. Wilson has promised to take up the question. The
transport service is now much improved. The trains are heated and
lighted, and priests travel with the lying-down cases.

_8 December._--I have a little "charette" for my soup. It is painted
red, and gives a lot of amusement to the wounded. The trains are very
long, and my small carriage is useful for cups and basins, bread, soup,
coffee, etc. Clemmie Waring designed and sent it to me.

To-day I was giving out my soup on the train and three shells came in in
quick succession. One came just over my head and lodged in a haystall on
the other side of the platform. The wall of the store has an enormous
hole in it, but the thickly packed hay prevented the shrapnel
scattering. The station-master was hit, and his watch saved him, but it
was crumpled up like a rag. Two men were wounded, and one of them died.
A whole crowd of refugees came in from Coxide, which is being heavily
shelled. There was not a scrap of food for them, so I made soup in great
quantities, and distributed it to them in a crowded room whose
atmosphere was thick. Ladling out the soup is great fun.

_12 December._--The days are very short now, and darkness falls early.
All the streets are dark, so are the houses, so is the station. Two
candles are a rare treat, and oil is difficult to get.

Such a nice boy died to-night. We brought him to the hospital from the
station, and learned that he had lain for eight days wounded and