tees,
after six weeks' struggling with something we imagined to be Red Tape,
which proved to be the combined egoism of several persons all
desperately anxious to "get to the Front," and desperately afraid of
somebody else getting there too, and getting there first, we are
actually off. Impossible to describe the mysterious processes by which
we managed it. I think the War Office kicked us out twice, and the
Admiralty once, though what we were doing with the Admiralty I don't to
this day understand. The British Red Cross kicked us steadily all the
time, on general principles; the American snubbed us rather badly; what
the French said to us I don't remember, and I can't think that we
carried persistency so far as to apply to the Russian and the Japanese.
Many of our scheme perished in their own vagueness. Others, vivid and
adventurous, were checked by the first encounter with the crass
reality. At one time, I remember, we were to have sent out a detachment
of stalwart Amazons in khaki breeches who were to dash out on to the
battle-field, reconnoitre, and pick up the wounded and carry them away
slung over their saddles. The only difficulty was to get the horses. But
the author of the scheme--who had bought her breeches--had allowed for
that. The horses were to be caught on the battle-field; as the wounded
and dead dropped from their saddles the Amazons were to leap into them
and ride off. On this system "remounts" were also to be supplied.
Whenever a horse was shot dead under its rider, an Amazon was to dash up
with another whose rider had been shot dead. It was all perfectly simple
and only needed a little "organization." For four weeks the lure of the
battle-field kept our volunteers dancing round the War Office and the
Red Cross Societies, and for four weeks their progress to the Front was
frustrated by Lord Kitchener. Some dropped off disheartened, but others
came on, and a regenerated committee dealt with them. Finally the thing
crystallized into a Motor Ambulance Corps. An awful sanity came over the
committee, chastened by its sufferings, and the volunteers, under
pressure, definitely renounced the battle-field. Then somebody said,
"Let's help the Belgian refugees." From that moment our course was
clear. Everybody was perfectly willing that we should help the refugees,
provided we relinquished all claim on the wounded. The Belgian Legation
was enchanted. It gave passports to a small private commission of
inquiry under