been
hit twice again in the shoulder. H---- also put in an appearance with
a bullet wound in the arm. He had taken a party of "walking wounded"
up to Sailly-au-Bois, and got a car on. A doctor brought round the
familiar old beverage of tea, which in large quantities, and in
company with whisky, had helped us through many an unpleasant day in
the trenches. Captain W----t refused it, and insisted on having some
bread and jam. I took both with much relish, and, having appeased an
unusually large appetite, got an orderly to wash my face and hands,
which were coated with blood.

"I dare say you feel as you was gettin' back to civilisation again,
sir," he said. Much refreshed, and quietly looking at a new number of
_The Tatler_, I certainly felt as if I was, though, in spite of an air
ring, the wound was feeling rather uncomfortable. At the end of the
hut two or three poor fellows were dying of stomach wounds. It was a
peculiar contrast to hear two or three men chatting gaily just outside
my end of the hut. I could only catch fragments of the conversation,
which I give here.

"When Mr. A---- gave the order to advance, I went over like a bird."

"The effect of the rum, laddie!"

"Mr A---- was going strong too."

"What's happened to Mr. A----, do you know?"

"Don't know. I didn't see 'im after that."

"'E's all right. Saw him just now. Got a wound in the arm."

"Good. Isn't the sun fine here? Couldn't want a better morning for an
attack, could you?"

The hut was filling rapidly, and the three stomach cases being quite
hopeless were removed outside. A doctor brought in an officer of the
K----'s. He was quite dazed, and sank full length on a bed, passing
his hand across his face and moaning. He was not wounded, but had been
blown up whilst engaged in cutting a communication trench across No
Man's Land, they told me. It was not long, however, before he
recovered his senses sufficiently enough to walk with help to an
ambulance. A "padre" entered, supporting a young officer of the ----,
a far worse case of shell shock, and laid him out on the bed. He had
no control over himself, and was weeping hysterically.

"For God's sake don't let me go back, don't send me back!" he cried.

The "padre" tried to comfort him.

"You'll soon be in a nice hospital at the Base, old chap, or probably
in England."

He looked at the padre blankly, not understanding a word that he was
saying.

A more extraordinary case of shell shock w