rue British modesty. "I fancy any one
could have done it. And a much better job of it, too. Is it true, sir,
that we've been here eight days?"

"And nights, as well," the medical officer nodded. "But don't look
alarmed, my lad. That sort of thing is not unusual. And you're both
safely out of it, now. A day or two of rest, and all the food you can
eat, and you'll be like new again."

"I'm okay, right now," Dave said stoutly. "But there's something you
didn't explain, sir, How did we get here? Who found us, and what?"

"It's a bit sketchy," the medical officer said with a frown. "As far as
I could learn a Belgian ambulance driver came across you and saw that
you both weren't dead, and put you in his bus. His own hospital was
being evacuated because of shell fire, and so he continued on westward.
He reached a receiving station of ours and dumped his load there. You
two, and three Belgian gunners. Anyway, from that point you were brought
here to me. And here you are. It was something like that, anyway.
Doubtless you'll never know the real facts. But, I certainly shouldn't
worry about that, if I were you. Simply bless your lucky stars, and let
it go at that."

"Jeepers!" Dave breathed softly. "Lucky stars? I must have a million of
them, I guess. You, too, Freddy. Right?"

"Quite!" The English youth nodded. "Dashed if it isn't like some fairy
tale one of those writer chaps would think up."

"And how!" Dave grunted and shook his head. "My gosh! A Stuka bomb drops
on me and I wake up hours later and miles away. Then a land mine, or
something, blows up in my face, and I wake up _eight days_ later, and
gosh knows _how_ far away. I sure do get around."

"Well, better not make a habit of it, my lad," the medical officer
chuckled. "The third time, you know?"

"Hey, those eight days!" Dave suddenly exclaimed. "What's been
happening? Who's winning? Are the Allies beating up the Germans? Gee, I
sure hope so!"

The smile fled from the medical officer's face and he became very grave.
He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it abruptly. At that moment the
office door swung open and a group of five tired eyed British officers
entered the room. A big man, with coal black hair and steel grey eyes,
led the party. Even without looking at his uniform with its rows of
decoration ribbons, and high rank insignia, Dave knew at once that the
man was General Caldwell, chief of British Staff. The captain swung
around and clicked his heels.