The second train came up about eleven, and by that time a fierce rifle encounter was going on.  From the hospital window we could see the Russian troops firing from the trenches near the railway.  Soon there was a violent explosion that shook the place; this was the Russians blowing up the railway bridge on the western side of the station.

The second train went off, and there were very few patients left now, though some were still being brought in at intervals by the Red Cross carts.  Our automobiles had started off to Warsaw with some wounded officers, but the rest of the column had orders to go to Zyradow by the last train to leave Skiernevice.

The sanitars now began to pack up the hospital; we did not mean to leave anything behind for the enemy if we could help it.  The few bedsteads were taken to pieces and tied up, the stretchers put together and the blankets tied up in bundles.  When the last ambulance train came up about 2 P. M. the patients were first put in, and then every portable object that could be removed was packed into the train too.  At the last moment, when the train was just about to start, one of the sanitars ran back and triumphantly brought out a pile of dirty soup plates to add to the collection.  Nothing was left in the hospital but two dead men we had not time to bury.

The wounded were all going to Warsaw and the other Russian Sisters went on in the train with them.  But our destination was Zyradow, only the next station but one down the line.

When we arrived at Zyradow about three o’clock we were looking forward to a bath and tea and bed, as we had been up all night and were very tired; but the train most unkindly dropped us about a quarter of a mile from the station, and we had to get out all our equipment and heavy cases of dressings, and put them at the side of the line, while Julian, the Prince’s soldier servant, went off to try and find a man and a cart for the things.  There was a steady downpour of rain, and we were soaked by the time he came back saying that there was nothing to be had at all.  The station was all in crumbling ruins, so we could not leave the things there, and our precious dressings were beginning to get wet.  Finally we got permission to put them in a closed cinema theatre near the station, but it was dark by that time, and we were wet and cold and began once more to centre our thoughts on baths and tea.  We were a small party—­only six of us—­Princess, we two Sisters, Colonel S., a Russian dresser, and Julian.  We caught a local Red Crosser.  “Where is the hotel?” “There is no hotel here.”  “Where can we lodge for to-night?” “I don’t know where you could lodge.”  “Where is the Red Cross Bureau?” asked Princess, in desperation.  “About a quarter of an hour’s walk.  I will show you the way.”