ke a stop for a couple
of cot cases in Edinburgh. In the Waverley Station a few minutes later
the train took aboard the patients, and then sped on south.

Before "she" had been under way very long, the surgeon in charge and his
assistant walked through the coaches, observing the cases on board and
noting whether any of them needed any special attention.

At noon the cooks and stewards were hustling, giving food to men who, I
supposed, would only require toast and beef-tea. But it takes a lot to
make a bluejacket lose his hunger.

"They're all 'Oliver Twists,'" declared the train surgeon.

Now, there is nothing that a sailor of His Majesty's Navy likes so much
to look at as a pretty girl. Hence it was not surprising when I heard a
voice from one of the cots, after the train had stopped at Newcastle, in
enthusiastic tones blurt out:--

"From 'ere I can see the purtiest gal I ever laid eyes on."

Business, then, of a movement in every cot. Eyes were all front, gazing
in the direction of a golden-haired beauty, who blushed a deep pink when
she realised how many pairs of eyes from the train were focussed on her.
Soon horny hands were being kissed in her direction. Shyly, she sent a
kiss or two back, and then retired to the shadows.

As I said before, the train is considered a ship. It is a case of going
to "Sick Bay" and of "out pipes" at nine o'clock. They talk of
"darkening the ship" when the blinds are pulled and the lights covered.
We arrived at Hull when it was dusk, and at the station was, among other
persons, Lady Nunburnholme, whose husband is the chief owner of the
Wilson Line of steamships, and who takes a deep interest in the
ambulance trains and the sailors' hospital in her town. No matter at
what hour one of the Royal Naval trains is due, Lady Nunburnholme is at
the depot, always eager to have a word with the men, and give them
cigarettes and cheer them up.

By error, that evening a clergyman or naval chaplain, who had been hurt
on a warship, was put in the coach with the men. The surgeon made the
discovery, and said he would have the padre moved into the officers'
quarters at the next stop.

"I'm a humbug," said the cheery pastor. "There's nothing wrong with me.
Just go ahead looking after the men."

Plymouth was to be the next stop. We were due there at half-past seven
o'clock the following morning. At midnight the chief surgeon walked
through the train to see that all was well, and he was attracted