One of the most difficult problems for a medical service in war is the recovery of the wounded from the field of battle and their carriage back to hospital.  In the old days men fought out a battle in a few hours, and the field at the end of the day was left to the conqueror.  Then the doctors could go forward and attend to the wounded on the spot without any special danger to themselves.  A man might lie out all night, but he would be certain to be picked up next day.  But in this war everything is changed.  It is one continuous siege, with the result that the removal of the wounded is a matter of extraordinary difficulty and danger.  I have met with one officer who has been in a trench out at the extreme front for two and a half months.  During the whole of that time he has never seen a German, and the nearest German trench is just one hundred yards away!  Shell and shot have been pouring over his head all that time, and to raise one’s head above the ground would be to court instant death.

Between the trenches the ground is a quagmire, and any advance by either side is out of the question.  But a time will come when the ground is just solid enough for a man to stand, there will be a desperate struggle for a few yards of ground, again both sides will subside into new trenches; but now between those trenches will lie perhaps some hundreds of wounded, and how in the world are they to be got?  This is the problem with which an ambulance is everywhere faced—­the recovery of the wounded from disputed ground.  It was to grapple with difficulties like these that the rules of the Geneva Convention were framed, so that men wearing a Red Cross on their arms might be able to go where no combatant of either side dare venture, and succour the wounded, whether they were friend or foe, in safety both for themselves and for the wounded.  It is, after all, possible to fight as gentlemen.

Or at least it was until a few months ago.  Since then we have had a demonstration of “scientific” war such as has never before been given to mankind.  Now, to wear a Red Cross is simply to offer a better mark for the enemy’s fire, and we only wore them in order that our own troops might know our business and make use of our aid.  A hospital is a favourite mark for the German artillery, whilst the practice of painting Red Crosses on the tops of ambulance cars is by many people considered unwise, as it invites any passing aeroplane to drop a bomb.  But the Germans have carried their systematic contempt of the rules of war so far that it is now almost impossible for our own men to recognize their Red Crosses.  Time after time their Red Cross cars have been used to conceal machine-guns, their flags have floated over batteries, and they have actually used stretchers to bring up ammunition to the trenches.  Whilst I was at Furnes two German spies were working with an ambulance, in khaki uniforms, bringing in the wounded.  They were at it for nearly a week before they were