had never dropped
any our way before. I never heard such a barrage, at least not for
aeroplanes. It wasn't so bad as out here all the same--you could take
shelter, anyhow. Air-raids are bloody awful things, they put my wind up
much more than shell-fire."

We finished our work as the sun was setting. The clouds on the horizon
had vanished. One by one the stars came out. It was "an ideal night for
a raid."

Soon after dark a man was brought into the station with a crushed knee.
Immediate operation was necessary. He was carried into the theatre and
laid on to one of the tables. He received an anaesthetic and became
unconscious. With his scalpel the surgeon made a deep cut in the
knee-joint and searched the cavity with his finger. There was a Sister
standing by. Also an orderly who had won the Military Medal for bravery
in an air-raid some months before. Suddenly there was an outburst of
anti-aircraft firing and a tumultuous whistling of shells overhead. It
lasted for several seconds and then with a deafening, reverberating
thunder-clap that shook the entire theatre, the first bomb fell. Before
our ears had ceased drumming another bomb exploded and then another. The
orderly, who had held his hands in front of his face, now gave way to
fear. He darted madly to and fro and then scuttled beneath a table. The
Sister, who had remained quite calm, said in an amused voice: "Pull
yourself together, it's all over now." The orderly got up trembling, his
face very white. The surgeon had not moved away. He had just grasped the
edge of the table tightly and had bent his head forward, while his
muscles seemed stiff with a violent but successful effort at
self-control. The anaesthetist, too, had remained on his stool, but was
leaning right over his patient. I had been conscious of a powerful
impulse to duck down, but I grasped the table and gave way to the
impulse so far as to lean slightly forward. This compromise saved me
from any violent expression of fear. The Sister was the only one of us
who showed no sign of fear at all.

The surgeon went on with his work and extracted several fragments of
bone from the injured limb. A few seconds passed and suddenly the
electric light went out in accordance with the orders that decreed that
all lights should be extinguished on the approach of hostile aeroplanes.
The surgeon cursed loudly and the Sister fetched an electric torch which
she held over the knee. The operation continued, but it was