he train full of slight medical cases and bad feet
seems to be over, and wounded are coming on again.

Three of my sitting-up Indians have temperatures of 104, so you can
imagine what the lying-downs are like. They are very anxious cases to
look after, partly because they are another race and partly because they
can't explain their wants, and they seem to want to be let die quietly
in a corner rather than fall in with your notions of their comfort.

At Bailleul on our last journey we took on a heavenly white puppy just
old enough to lap, quite wee and white and fat. He cries when he wants
to be nursed, and barks in a lovely falsetto when he wants to play, and
waddles after our feet when we take him for a walk, but he likes being
carried best.

Some Tommies on a truck at Railhead brought him up for us; they adore
his little mother and two brothers.

_Friday, February 5th, Boulogne._--We did get in late last night, and
got to bed at 1 A.M. They are unloading during the night again now, and
also loading up at night.

One boy last night had lost his right hand; his left arm and leg were
wounded, and both his eyes. "Yes, I've got more than my share," he said,
"but I'll get over it all right." I didn't happen to answer for a
minute, and in a changed voice he said, "Shan't I? shan't I?" Of course
I assured him he'd get quite well, and that he was ticketed to go
straight to an eye specialist. "Thank God for that," he said, as if the
eye specialist had already cured him, but it is doubtful if any eye
specialist will save his eyes.

To-day has been a record day of brilliant sun, blue sky and warm air,
and it has transformed the muddy, sloppy, dingy Boulogne of the last two
months into something more like Cornwall. We couldn't stop on the train
(there were no orders likely), in spite of being tired, but went in the
town in the morning, and on the long stone pier in the afternoon, and
then to tea at the buffet at the Maritime (where you have tea with real
milk and fresh butter, and jam not out of a tin, and a tablecloth, and a
china cup--luxuries beyond description). On the pier there were gulls,
and a sunny sort of salt wind and big waves breaking, and a glorious
view of the steep little town piled up in layers above the harbour,
which is packed with shipping.

VIII.

On No.-- Ambulance Train (6)

ROUEN--NEUVE CHAPELLE--ST ELOI

_February 7, 1915, to March 31, 1915_

"Under the lee of the little woo