at war.

And now I know that I hate it because it is not the coast of Flanders.
Which would be absurd if I were really going back again.

Yes, I must have had a premonition.

[_Dover._]

We have landed now. I have said good-bye to Captain King and all the
ship's officers and thanked them for their kindness. I have said
good-bye to the British Red Cross lady, who is not going to London.

And I go to the station telegraph-office to send off five wires.

I am sending off the five wires when I hear feet returning through the
station hall. The Red Cross lady is back again. She is saying this time
that she is _really_ sure she has done the right thing.

And again I assure her that she has.

Well--there are obsessions and obsessions. I do not know whether I have
done the right thing or not in leaving Flanders (or, for that matter, in
leaving Ghent). All that I know is that I love it and that I have left
it. And that I want to go back.

POSTSCRIPT

There have been changes in that Motor Field Ambulance Corps that set out
for Flanders on the 25th of September, 1914.

Its Commandant has gone from it to join the Royal Army Medical Corps. A
few of the original volunteers have dropped out and others have taken
their places, and it is larger now than it was, and better organized.

But whoever went and whoever stayed, its four field-women have remained
at the Front. Two of them are attached to the Third Division of the
Belgian Army; all four have distinguished themselves by their devotion
to that Army and by their valour, and they have all received the Order
of Leopold II., the highest Belgian honour ever given to women.

The Commandant, being a man, has the Order of Leopold I. Mr.
Ashmead-Bartlett and Mr. Philip Gibbs and Dr. Souttar have described his
heroic action at the Battle of Dixmude on the 22nd of October, 1914,
when he went into the cellars of the burning and toppling Town Hall to
rescue the wounded. And from that day to this the whole Corps--old
volunteers and new--has covered itself with glory.

On our two chauffeurs, Tom and Bert, the glory lies quite thick. "Tom"
(if I may quote from my own story of the chauffeurs) "Tom was in the
battle of Dixmude. At the order of his commandant he drove his car
straight into the thick of it, over the ruins of a shattered house that
blocked the way. He waited with his car while all the bombs that he had
ever dreamed of crashed around him, and houses flamed, and