ed with
motor transport waggons carrying supplies of food and ammunition
to the troops, but beyond that it was empty, unless one counts
the shells which were falling on it in a steady hail.

Every now and then a Jack Johnson would fall and leave a hole
in which one could bury a motor, and, apart from the shells, the
holes made driving risky. There was over a mile of the road in
this unhealthy state, and entirely exposed to the enemy's guns,
before any shelter could be obtained; but the wounded must be
fetched, and the cars pushed on as fast as they dared to drive.
They were suddenly pulled up by an appalling obstacle. A
Belgian battery advancing along the road to the front only
twenty minutes before had been struck by a big shell. Several
of the gunners were horribly mangled; ten horses lay dead,
most of them in fragments; the gun was wrecked, and all its
equipment scattered about the road. It was some minutes
before the remaining soldiers could clear the road sufficiently for
the cars to pass.

Dixmude itself was a roaring furnace, and shells were pouring
into it in all directions. Practically every house had been
damaged, many were totally demolished, and many more were
on fire. The wounded were in the Town Hall on the square, and
shells were bursting all over it. The upper portion was
completely destroyed, and the church close by was blazing
furiously, and must have set fire to the Town Hall soon after. On
the steps lay a dead Marine, and beside him stood a French
surgeon, who greeted them warmly. The wounded were in a
cellar, and if they were not got out soon, it was obvious that
they would be burned alive. Inside the hall were piles of
bicycles, loaves of bread, and dead soldiers, all in gruesome
confusion. In the cellar dead and wounded were lying together.
The wounded had all to be carried on stretchers, for everyone
who could crawl had fled from that ghastly inferno, and only
those who have shifted wounded on stretchers can appreciate
the courage it requires to do it under shell fire. At last they were
all packed into the ambulances, and even as they left the
building with the last, a shell struck it overhead and demolished
one of the walls. How they ever got out of Dixmude alive is
beyond the ken of a mere mortal, but I suppose it was only
another manifestation of the Star which shines so brightly over
the fortunes of the Munro Ambulance.

How high is the appreciation of the Belgian Government for
their