Soon after this, we started our “Pleasant Sunday Evenings,” as we called them, in the top room of the hospital, and there from 8 to 9.30 every Sunday gave coffee and held impromptu concerts.  They were a tremendous success, and chiefly attended by the English.  They were so popular we were often at a loss for seats.  Of real furniture there was very little.  It consisted mostly of packing cases covered with army blankets and enormous tumpties in the middle of the floor—­these latter contained the reserve store of blankets for the hospital, and excellent “pouffs” they made.

Our reputation of being able to turn our hands to anything resulted in Mr. Sitters—­rushing in during 10 o’clock tea one morning with the news that two English divisions were going south from Ypres in a few days’ time, and the Y.M.C.A. had been asked by the Army to erect a temporary canteen at a certain railhead during the six days they would take to pass through.  There were no lady helpers in those days, and he was at his wits’ end to know where to find the staff.  Could any of us be spared?  None of us could, as we were understaffed already, but Lieutenant Franklin put it to us and said if we were willing to undertake the canteen, as well as our hospital work, which would mean an average of only five hours sleep in the twenty-four—­she had no objection.  There was no time to get fresh Y.M.C.A. workers from England with the delay of passports, etc., and of course we decided to take it on, only too pleased to have the chance to do something for our own men.  A shed was soon erected, the front part being left open facing the railway lines, and counters were put up.  The work, which went on night and day, was planned out in shifts, and we were driven up to the siding in Y.M.C.A.  Fords or any of our own which could be spared.  Trains came through every hour averaging about 900 men on board.  There was just time in between the trains to wash the cups up and put out fresh buns and chocolates.  When one was in, there was naturally no time to wash the cups up at all, and they were just used again as soon as they were empty.  Canteen work with a vengeance!  The whole of the Highland division passed through together with the 37th.  They sat in cattle trucks mostly, the few carriages there were being reserved for the officers.  It was amusing to notice that at first the men thought we were French, so unaccustomed were they then to seeing any English girls out there with the exception of army Sisters and V.A.D.s.

“Do chocolat, si voos play,” they would ask, and were speechless with surprise when we replied sweetly:  “Certainly, which kind will you have?”

I asked one Scotchman during a pause, when the train was in for a longer interval than usual, how he managed to make himself understood up the line.  “Och fine,” he said, “it’s not verra deefficult to parley voo.  I gang into one o’ them Estaminays to ask for twa drinks, I say ‘twa’ and, would you believe it, they always hand out three—­good natured I call that, but I hae to pay up all the same,” he added!