Every now and then a Jack Johnson would fall and leave a hole in which one could bury a motor, and, apart from the shells, the holes made driving risky.  There was over a mile of the road in this unhealthy state, and entirely exposed to the enemy’s guns, before any shelter could be obtained; but the wounded must be fetched, and the cars pushed on as fast as they dared to drive.  They were suddenly pulled up by an appalling obstacle.  A Belgian battery advancing along the road to the front only twenty minutes before had been struck by a big shell.  Several of the gunners were horribly mangled; ten horses lay dead, most of them in fragments; the gun was wrecked, and all its equipment scattered about the road.  It was some minutes before the remaining soldiers could clear the road sufficiently for the cars to pass.

Dixmude itself was a roaring furnace, and shells were pouring into it in all directions.  Practically every house had been damaged, many were totally demolished, and many more were on fire.  The wounded were in the Town Hall on the square, and shells were bursting all over it.  The upper portion was completely destroyed, and the church close by was blazing furiously, and must have set fire to the Town Hall soon after.  On the steps lay a dead Marine, and beside him stood a French surgeon, who greeted them warmly.  The wounded were in a cellar, and if they were not got out soon, it was obvious that they would be burned alive.  Inside the hall were piles of bicycles, loaves of bread, and dead soldiers, all in gruesome confusion.  In the cellar dead and wounded were lying together.  The wounded had all to be carried on stretchers, for everyone who could crawl had fled from that ghastly inferno, and only those who have shifted wounded on stretchers can appreciate the courage it requires to do it under shell fire.  At last they were all packed into the ambulances, and even as they left the building with the last, a shell struck it overhead and demolished one of the walls.  How they ever got out of Dixmude alive is beyond the ken of a mere mortal, but I suppose it was only another manifestation of the Star which shines so brightly over the fortunes of the Munro Ambulance.

How high is the appreciation of the Belgian Government for their work is shown in the fact that three of the lady members of the Corps have just been decorated with the Order of Leopold —­one of the highest honours which Belgium has to confer.  It is not every honour which is so well earned.

XXII.  Pervyse—­The Trenches