him.  Stiff, solid, and in perfect line, stood the detachments waiting for the word to succour the afflicted.  At last it came.  In the midst of breathless excitement the ten bent low, placed their folded stretchers on the ground, unbuckled and unfolded them, and then with a simultaneous spring rose up again and resumed their impassive attitude.  “Very good,” said the Sergeant, “very good.  Thompson you were just a shade too quick; you must be more careful.  Stand at ease!” and at ease they all stood.

But where were the wounded?  Aha! here they come, noble, fearless heroes, all in line, marching with a springy step to their doom.

One by one they took their places, in line at intervals of about ten yards, and lay down each on his appointed spot to die, or be wounded, and to be bandaged and carried off.  But now a terrible question arose. Would there be enough to go round? I had only counted nine of them, which was one short of the necessary complement, but at this supreme moment another grievously wounded warrior ran lightly up and lay down opposite the tenth detachment.  We breathed again.

And now began some charming manoeuvres.  Each detachment walked round its stretcher twice, then stood at ease again, then at attention, then dressed up and arranged itself, and brushed, itself down.  All this while their wounded comrades lay writhing, and appealing for help in vain.  It was with difficulty that, lame as I was, I could be restrained from dashing to their aid.  But at last everything was in order.  Stretchers were solemnly lifted.  The detachments marched slowly forward, and deposited their stretchers each beside a wounded man.  Then began a scene of busy bandaging.  But not until the whole ten had been bound up, legs, arms, heads, feet, fingers &c, was it permissible to lift one of them from the cold cold ground which he had bedewed with his blood.

“Now then,” said the Sergeant, “carefully and all together.  Lift!” and all together they were lifted and placed in their stretchers.  More play with straps and buckles, more rising and stooping, and then the pale and gasping burdens were at last raised and carried in a mournful procession round the ground.  But when they arrived at the place where the ambulance was supposed to be, they had all been dead, three-quarters of an hour.  “Dear me,” said the Sergeant, “how vexing.  Robinson, your chin-strap’s gone wrong.  Now, all together.  Drop ’em!” And so the day ended, and the pitiless sun sated with, &c., &c., &c.

I afterwards visited the Field Hospital to see a number of wax figures in uniform, cheerfully arranged as wounded men in all the stages of pain and misery.  How encouraging for Tommy Atkins, I thought to myself; but at this moment my supporter informed me that he had remembered where to find the battle-pictures, and thither therefore we proceeded, thankful in the knowledge that if either of us ever happened to be struck down in battle he would be well looked after by an admirably drilled body of men.