Sparks flew past the windows, but thanks to the firemen who were on the spot almost immediately, the fire was got under and did not spread to the hospital.

It was a terrible night!  How I longed to be able to give the Huns a taste of their own medicine!

The “All clear” was not sounded till 3 a.m.  Many of the injured died before morning, after all that was humanly possible had been done for them.  I heard some days later that a discharged soldier, who had been in the dug-out when the bomb fell, was nearly drowned by the floods of water from the hoses, and was subsequently brought round by artificial respiration.  He was heard to exclaim:  “Humph, first they wounds me aht in France, then they tries to drown me in a bloomin’ air raid!”

There was one W.A.A.C.—­Smith we will call her—­who could easily have made her fortune on the stage, she was so clever at imitations.  She would “take you off” to your face and make you laugh in spite of yourself.  She was an East-ender and witty in the extreme, warm of heart but exceedingly quick-tempered.  I liked her tremendously, she was so utterly alive and genuine.

One night I was awakened from a doze by a tremendous hubbub going on in the ward.  Raising myself on an elbow I saw Smith shaking one of the W.A.A.C.s, who was hanging on to a bed for support, as a terrier might a rat.

“You would, would you?” I heard her exclaim.  “Sy it againe, yer white-ficed son of a gun yer!” and she shook her till her teeth chattered.  I never found out what the “white-ficed” one had said, but she showed no signs of repeating the offence.  I felt as if I was in the gallery at Drury Lane and wanted to shout, “Go on, ’it ’er,” but just restrained myself in time!

A girl orderly was despatched in haste for one of the head doctors, and I awaited her arrival with interest, wondering just how she would deal with the situation.

However, the “Colonel” apparently thought discretion the better part of valour, and sent the Sergeant-Major—­the only man on the staff—­to cope with the delinquent.  I was fearfully disappointed.  Smith checkmated him splendidly by retiring into the bath where she sat soaking for two hours.  What was the poor man to do?  It was getting late, and for all he knew she might elect to stay there all night.  He knew of no precedent and ran in and out of the ward, flapping his arms in a helpless manner.  I felt Smith had decidedly won the day.  Imagine an ordinary private behaving thus!

There were sudden periodical evacuations of the ward, and one day I was told my bed would be required for a more urgent case—­a large convoy was expected from France and so many beds had to be vacated.  Three weeks after my operation I left the hospital and arranged to stay with friends in the country.  As it was a long railway journey and I was hardly accustomed to crutches again, I wanted to stay the night in town.  However, one comes up against