the trains
which are by that time racing to the ports nearest to the scene of the
engagement.

In London, the Medical Transport Officer can place his finger on a
railroad map at any time and tell within a mile or so where his trains
are. If by any possible chance they are delayed he receives word from
the train surgeons.

Knowing the probability of further engagements in the North Sea, quite
a number of wealthy private individuals have interested themselves in
the hospitals on the East Coast from north to south. And these persons
take especial interest in the trains, many of them making it a point to
be at the railroad station whenever a Royal Naval Ambulance train pulls
in. What with sick men and accidents, the trains now and again may have
a full quota of patients without there having been a fleet engagement.
In war time no man who is not physically fit is kept aboard ship, for he
may not take up another man's place without being able to perform his
work.

Exigencies of war have caused the speedy transformation of buildings in
many parts of England into hospitals. There also are institutions
constructed in temporary form, architecturally not works of art, but
wonderfully useful. The surgeons at these latter places have wrought
marvels in obtaining good light in the wards and operating-rooms, and
creating a comfortable atmosphere in the exteriorly dingy places.

The starting-point or headquarters of the ambulance trains is in the
South, and when they plough their way North they carry no patients. The
complement of these trains is from forty to fifty hands, and they all
look upon the train as a ship, and use sailors' terms. It is the "Sick
Bay Express."

IX. A RUN IN A ROYAL NAVAL AMBULANCE TRAIN

I obtained permission to make a "voyage" in an ambulance train.

On a grey, drizzling morning one of the Royal Naval trains glided into a
siding at Queensferry--a dozen miles from Edinburgh. In less than ten
minutes six hefty stretcher-bearers steadily and silently bore the first
cot patient from a waiting ambulance to the war-coloured train. Cot then
followed cot with precision, only two of the patients being in the open
at a time; and as quickly as mortals could accomplish it these cots were
set swinging in the "eyes" set for the lanyards.

Being about half-past eight o'clock, nobody had much to say. The faces
of the sick and wounded bluejackets told you nothing as they lazily
gazed around them while being