ht be called on to go out
at any moment.

What the disaster was we could not fathom, but that it was some distance
away we had no doubt.

At 7 a.m. the telephone rang furiously, and we all waited breathless for
the news.

Ten cars were ordered immediately to Audricq, where a large ammunition
dump had been set on fire by a Boche airman.

Heavy explosions continued at intervals all the morning as one shed
after another became affected.

When our cars got there the whole dump was one seething mass of smoke
and flames, and shells of every description were hurtling through the
air at short intervals. Several of these narrowly missed the cars. It
was a new experience to be under fire from our own shells. The roads
were littered with live ones, and with great difficulty the wheels of
the cars were steered clear of them!

Many shells were subsequently found at a distance of five miles, and one
buried itself in a peaceful garden ten miles off!

A thousand 9.2's had gone off simultaneously and made a crater big
enough to bury a village in. It was this explosion that had shaken our
huts miles away. The neighbouring village fell flat like a pack of cards
at the concussion, the inhabitants having luckily taken to the open
fields at the first intimation that the dump was on fire.

The total casualties were only five in number, which was almost
incredible in view of the many thousands of men employed. It was due to
the presence of mind of the Camp Commandant that there were not more;
for, once he realized the hopeless task of getting the fire under
control, he gave orders to the men to clear as fast as they could. They
needed no second bidding and made for the nearest _Estaminets_ with
speed! The F.A.N.Y.s found that instead of carrying wounded, their task
was to search the countryside (with Sergeants on the box) and bring the
men to a camp near ours. "Dead?" asked someone, eyeing the four
motionless figures inside one of the ambulances. "Yes," replied the
F.A.N.Y. cheerfully--"drunk!"

The Boche had flown over at 3 a.m. but so low down the Archies were
powerless to get him. As one of the men said to me, "If we'd had rifles,
Miss, we could have potted him easy."

He flew from shed to shed dropping incendiary bombs on the roofs as he
passed, and up they went like fireworks. The only satisfaction we had
was to hear that he had been brought down on his way back over our
lines, so the Boche never heard of the disaster he had