ence in our painful conditions and surroundings.

On Friday, still greedily hugging my bottle of water, I was removed
from St. Quentin and placed in a hospital-train bound for Hanover. I
was told it was a splendidly appointed train, with every modern
appliance.

The journey to Hanover occupied two days and two nights, but I
remember nothing of it, as I believe I was unconscious the whole time.

I do remember just before leaving being presented with a haversack
from the French Red Cross Society, and it was full of things which
were extremely useful: a sleeping-shirt, handkerchiefs, biscuits, and
similar articles. I have the haversack still. I carried it wherever I
went in Germany, and never allowed it to leave my possession.

On Sunday morning, September 17, the train pulled into Hanover, and
the wounded were carried out and left for a time on the platform.

Some girls seemed to be busy giving refreshment to the wounded. A girl
came to my stretcher, pulled down the blanket which covered my face,
and clumsily pushed the spout of a drinking-cup, containing coffee,
into my mouth. I thought she was trying to feed me from some kind of
teapot. The pot fell out of my mouth, and the coffee ran down my neck.

A man picked it up, and holding it to my lips, enabled me to sip it. I
felt very grateful to him, for I was badly in need of sustenance. He
spoke to me very kindly.

I thanked him in a whisper, and asked him if he was an officer.

He replied in English: "No, I am a waiter."

I think I became unconscious again. Rather unfortunate, for had I been
stronger the humour of the remark would have amused me.

CHAPTER XXI

ALIVE

It was the first night after my arrival at Hanover that I really fully
recovered a state of consciousness.

Although I have recorded several incidents of the week which had just
passed, they were only occasional glimpses from which I would relapse
again into unconsciousness, and it only comes back to me in a hazy
sort of way, like dreams through a long night of sleep.

But I remember well the moment when I finally awoke and took in my
surroundings. It was early in the morning. I seemed to have had
frightful dreams; the horror of what I had passed through had been a
frightful nightmare, mocking at me, laughing at me, blowing me to
pieces.

I turned over on my side. Strange place this shell-hole; it seemed
very comfortable. What was this I was touching--a pillow, bedclothes.
Good God!