yself going around with only one arm, and the
prospect didn't look good.

However, the doctor dressed the arm with the greatest care and told
me I could go to a London hospital as I had asked, for I wanted to
be near my people at Southall. These were the friends I had made
before leaving Blighty and who had sent me weekly parcels and
letters.

I arrived in London on Tuesday and was taken in a big Red Cross
motor loaned by Sir Charles Dickerson to the Fulham Hospital in
Hammersmith. I was overjoyed, as the hospital was very near
Southall, and Mr. and Mrs. Puttee were both there to meet me.

The Sister in charge of my ward, Miss Malin, is one of the finest
women I have met. I owe it to her care and skill that I still have
my good right arm. She has since married and the lucky man has one
of the best of wives. Miss Malin advised me right at the beginning
not to submit to an amputation.

My next few weeks were pretty awful. I was in constant pain, and
after the old arm began to come around under Miss Malin's treatment
one of the doctors discovered that my left hand was queer. It had
been somewhat swollen, but not really bad. The doctor insisted upon
an X-ray and found a bit of shrapnel imbedded. He was all for an
operation. Operations seemed to be the long suit of most of those
doctors. I imagine they couldn't resist the temptation to get some
practice with so much cheap material all about. I consented this
time, and went down for the pictures on Lord Mayor's Day. Going to
the pictures is Tommy's expression for undergoing an anesthetic.

I was under ether two hours and a half, and when I came out of it
the left hand was all to the bad and has been ever since. There
followed weeks of agonizing massage treatments. Between treatments
though, I had it cushy.

My friends were very good to me, and several Americans entertained
me a good deal. I had a permanent walking-out pass good from nine
in the morning until nine at night. I saw almost every show in the
city, and heard a special performance of the Messiah at Westminster
Abbey. Also I enjoyed a good deal of restaurant life.

London is good to the wounded men. There is entertainment for all
of them. A good many of these slightly wounded complain because
they cannot get anything to drink, but undoubtedly it is the best
thing for them. It is against the law to serve men in the blue
uniform of the wounded. Men in khaki can buy all the liquor they
want, the public houses