Our men come in on the leave train straight from the trenches, loaded up with equipment, with their rifles canvas-covered to keep them dry and clean, with Flanders mud caked upon them to the waist, very tired, with that look they all bring home from the trenches in their eyes, but in Blighty and trying to forget how soon they have to go back.  The buffets are there for them, and those who have no one to meet them in London and who have to travel north or west or east to go home, are met by men and women who direct them where to go by day and motor them across London to their station at night.  The leave trains that get in on Sunday morning brings Scottish soldiers that cannot leave till evening, and St. Columba’s, Church of Scotland, has stepped into the breach.  The women meet the train, carry off the soldier for breakfast in the Hall, which is ready, and they entertain them all day.  Thousands have been entertained in this way, and “It’s just home,” said one Gordon Highlander.

The soldier is in France and there he finds we have sent him Blighty, too—­canteens and Y.M.C.A.  Huts.  Our books and our magazines, everything we can think of and send, goes to every field of war.

He is followed where he can be by amusement and entertainment.  Concert parties are arranged by our actors and actresses, and they go out and sing and act and amuse our men behind the lines.  Lena Ashwell has organized Concert parties and done a great work in this way.

Such work as Miss McNaughton’s, recorded in her “Diary of the War,” and for which she was decorated before her death, largely caused by overwork, as Lady Dorothie Fielding’s ambulance work, for which she also was decorated, and the work of the “Women of Pervyse” stand out, even among the wonderful things done by individual women in this war.

The “Women of Pervyse,” Mrs. Knocker, now the Baronnes de T’Serclas, and Miss Mairi Chisholm, went out with the Field Ambulance Committee, and were quartered with others at Ghent before and during and after the siege of Antwerp.  When the ambulance trains started to come in from Antwerp they worked day and night moving the wounded from the station to the hospitals—­they worked for hours under fire moving wounded, unperturbed and unshaken.

After the battle of Dixmude and the armies had settled on the Neuport-Ypres line, Mrs. Knocker started the Pervyse Poste de Secours Anglis, a dressing station so close to the firing line that the wounded could literally be lifted to it from the trenches.

There they have worked and cared for the men in conditions almost incredible.  In February, 1915, they were decorated by King Albert, and since March they have been permanently attached to the Third Division of the Belgian Army.

In June, 1915, they were mentioned in dispatches for saving life under heavy fire.  They have saved hundreds of lives by being where they can render aid so swiftly, and the military authorities do not move them, not only because they wish to pay tribute to their valor but because they are so valuable.