springs
jiggling endlessly up and down, up and down, was as trying as anything.
The trouble was I knew every hole in that road and soon we had to cross
railway lines! The sister, who was a stranger too, began to worry how
she would find her way back to the train, but I assured her once arrived
at the Casino, she only had to walk up to our camp to get a F.A.N.Y.
car. "I hope there won't be many people there when I'm pulled out," I
thought, "I hate being stared at in such a beastly mess," above all I
hated a fuss.

Now we had come to the railway lines. "What would it have been like
without morphia?" I wondered. Of course the drawbridge was up and that
meant at least ten minutes wait till the ships went through. My luck
seemed dead out. At last I heard the familiar clang as it rattled into
place, and we were over.

I dared not close my eyes, as I had a sort of feeling I'd never be able
to open them again. "Only up the slope and then I'm there. If I can't
keep them open till then, I'm done." The pain was getting worse again,
and from what the sister said I gathered something down there had begun
to haemorrhage once more. Still no thought of the truth ever dawned on
me.

At last we arrived and slowly backed into place. I could not help seeing
the grim humour of the situation; I had driven so many wounded men there
myself. The Colonel, who must have heard, for he was waiting, looked
very white and worried, and Leather, one of the Duchess' drivers,
started visibly as I was pulled out. I was told after that my
complexion, or what could be seen of it, was ashen grey in colour and if
my eyes had not been open they would have thought the worst. I was
carried into the big hall and there my beloved Wuzzy found me. I heard a
little whine and felt a warm tongue licking my face--luckily he had not
been with me that morning.

"Take that ---- dog away, someone," cried the Colonel, who was peevish
in the extreme. "He's not a ---- dog," I protested, and then up came a
Padre who asked gravely, "What are you, my child?" Thinking I was now
fairly unrecognisable by this time with the Frenchman's hanky round my
head, etc., I replied, "A F.A.N.Y., of course!" This completely
scandalized the good Padre. When he had recovered, he said, "No, you
mistake me, what religion I mean?"

"He wants to know what to bury me under," I thought, "what a thoroughly
cheerful soul!" "C. of E.," I replied as per identity disc. He then took
my home address, w