thick lines of tents, and
hear the everlasting incessant thudding and banging of the guns, and
realise that it is not a French country house but a Casualty Clearing
Hospital, with empty--once polished--floors filled with stretchers,
where the worst cases still are, and some left empty for the incoming
convoys. Over two thousand have passed through since Sunday week. The
contrast between the shady garden where I'm lazing now on rugs and
cushions, with innumerable birds, including a nightingale, singing and
nesting, and the nerve-racking sound of the guns and the look of the
place inside, is overwhelming. It is in three Divisions--the house for
the worst cases--and there are tent Sections and the straw-sheds and two
schools in the village. We had our lunch at a sort of inn in the
village. I've never hated the sound of the guns so much; they are almost
unbearable.

It is a good thing for us to have this sudden rest. I don't know for how
long or what happens next.

The General of the Division had a narrow escape after we left last
night. The roof of his house was blown off, just at the time he would
have been there, only he was a little late, but an officer was killed;
six shells came into the garden, and the seventh burst at his feet and
killed him as he was standing at the door. I'm glad they got the wounded
away in time. Aeroplanes are buzzing overhead. The Aerodrome is here,
French monoplanes chiefly as far as one can see.

10 P.M., _in bed_.--We have now been temporarily attached to the Staff
here.

Miss ---- has given me charge of the Tent Section, which can take eighty
lying down.

_Whitsunday, 1915._--In bed--in my tent, not a bell, but an Indian tent
big enough for two comfortably. I share with S----. We have nothing but
the camp furniture we took out, but will acquire a few Red Cross boxes
as cupboards to-morrow. It is a peerless night with a young moon and a
soft wind, frogs croaking, guns banging, and a nightingale trilling.

It has been a funny day, dazzling sun, very few patients.

_Whit-Monday._--Very few in to-day again. I have only six, and am making
the most of the chance of a rest in the garden; one doesn't realise till
after a rush how useful a rest can be. There has been a fearful
bombardment going on all last night and yesterday and to-day; it is a
continual roar, and in the night is maddening to listen to; you can't
forget the war. Mosquitoes, nightingales, frogs, and two horses also
help