ill they could be attended to.

About two in the morning a despatch rider arrived and meeting me at
the door asked if I could speak French. He said, "Tell the Turcos and
every one else who can walk to clear off to Ypres as soon as they can;
the Germans are close at hand." Indeed it sounded so, because the rifle
fire was very close. I went into the room and delivered my message, in
French and English, to the wounded men. Immediately there was a general
stampede of all who could possibly drag themselves towards the city.
It was indeed a piteous procession which passed out of the door.
Turcos with heads bandaged, or arms bound up or one leg limping, and
our own men equally disabled, helped one another down that terrible
road towards the City. Soon all the people who could walk had gone.
But there in the room, and along the pavement outside, lay helpless
men. I went to the M.O. and asked him what we were to do with the
stretcher cases. "Well" he said, "I suppose we shall have to leave
them because all the ambulances have gone." "How can we desert them?"
I said. The Medical Officer was of course bound by orders to go back
with his men but I myself felt quite free in the matter, so I said, "I
will stay and be made prisoner." "Well," he said, "so will I. Possibly
I shall get into trouble for it, but I cannot leave them to the enemy
without any one to look after them." So we made a compact that we would
both stay behind and be made prisoners. I went over to another Field
Ambulance, where a former curate of mine was chaplain. They had (p. 064)
luckily been able to evacuate their wounded and were all going off. I
told him that I should probably be made a prisoner that night, but
asked him to cable home and tell my family that I was in good health
and that the Germans treated chaplains, when they took them prisoners,
very kindly. Then I made my way back. There was a tremendous noise of
guns now at the front. It was a horrible thought that our men were up
there bearing the brunt of German fury and hatred. Their faces passed
through my mind as individuals were recalled. The men whom I knew so
well, young, strong and full of hope and life, men from whom Canada
had so much to expect, men whose lives were so precious to dear ones
far away, were now up in that poisoned atmosphere and under the
hideous hail of bullets and shells. The thought almost drove a
chaplain to madness. One felt so powerless and longed to be up and
doing. Not o