I dared not close my eyes, as I had a sort of feeling I’d never be able to open them again.  “Only up the slope and then I’m there.  If I can’t keep them open till then, I’m done.”  The pain was getting worse again, and from what the sister said I gathered something down there had begun to haemorrhage once more.  Still no thought of the truth ever dawned on me.

At last we arrived and slowly backed into place.  I could not help seeing the grim humour of the situation; I had driven so many wounded men there myself.  The Colonel, who must have heard, for he was waiting, looked very white and worried, and Leather, one of the Duchess’ drivers, started visibly as I was pulled out.  I was told after that my complexion, or what could be seen of it, was ashen grey in colour and if my eyes had not been open they would have thought the worst.  I was carried into the big hall and there my beloved Wuzzy found me.  I heard a little whine and felt a warm tongue licking my face—­luckily he had not been with me that morning.

“Take that ——­ dog away, someone,” cried the Colonel, who was peevish in the extreme.  “He’s not a ——­ dog,” I protested, and then up came a Padre who asked gravely, “What are you, my child?” Thinking I was now fairly unrecognisable by this time with the Frenchman’s hanky round my head, etc., I replied, “A F.A.N.Y., of course!” This completely scandalized the good Padre.  When he had recovered, he said, “No, you mistake me, what religion I mean?”

“He wants to know what to bury me under,” I thought, “what a thoroughly cheerful soul!” “C. of E.,” I replied as per identity disc.  He then took my home address, which seemed an unnecessary fuss, and I was left in peace.  Captain C. was there as well and came over to the stretcher.

“I’ve broken both legs,” I announced, “will I be able to ride again?”

“Of course you will,” he said.

“Sure?” I asked.

“Rather,” he replied, and I felt comforted.

I was then carried straight through ward I. into the operating theatre.  The men in bed looked rather startled, and Barratt, a man I had driven and been visiting since, was near the door.  What he said is hardly repeatable.  When the British Tommy is much moved he usually becomes thoroughly profane!  I waved to him as I disappeared through the door into the theatre.

I was speedily undressed.  Dicky appeared mysteriously from somewhere and was a brick.  The room seemed to be full of nurses and orderlies and then I went slipping off into oblivion as the chloroform took effect (my first dose and at that time very welcome) and at last I was in a land where pain becomes obliterated in one vast empty space.

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