time because they couldn't get three
meals a day on a campaign, whereas others, of half their build and
muscle, may bear privations infinitely better. It is annoying to find
here and there in the newspapers querulous letters from men at the front
complaining that plum puddings and sweetmeats haven't reached them, and
that their Christmas fare was only a bit of bully beef and a pint of
beer. These men don't represent the rank and file of the army a bit. The
English soldier is better fed and clothed and looked after than any
other fighting man in the world, except possibly the American, and the
manly soldier is not in the habit of whining after the fashion of these
letters because he doesn't get quite as good a dinner on the veldt as he
does in the depot at home.

The military authorities at De Aar exercised the utmost stringency in
refusing permission to unauthorised civilians to stay in the camp or
pass through it. These regulations were absolutely necessary. The
country round De Aar was full of Dutchmen, who were, with scarcely an
exception, thoroughly in sympathy with the enemy, and throughout the
campaign, at Modder River, Stormberg, the Tugela, and even inside
Ladysmith and Mafeking spies have been repeatedly captured and shot.
Some of the attempts by civilians to get through De Aar without adequate
authorisation were quite amusing. I remember a particularly nice Swedish
officer arriving one night, equipped after the most approved fashion of
military accoutrements--Stohwasser leggings, spurs, gloves, etc., but
his papers were not sufficient for his purpose, and charm he never so
wisely, the camp commandant politely but firmly compelled him to return
to Richmond Road, which lay just outside the pale of military law.
Another gentleman, well known in England, failed in his first effort to
penetrate the camp on his way northwards, but succeeded finally in
reaching De Aar by going up as an officer's servant!

The run from De Aar to Belmont is about 100 miles. The ambulance train
arrived there on the evening of the battle, and the staff on board
found plenty of work ready for them. The wounded men were all placed
together in a large goods' shed at the station. They lay as they were
taken from the field by the stretcher-bearers. Lint and bandages had
been applied, but, of course, uniforms, bodies and even the floor were
saturated with blood. Such spectacles are not pleasing, but nobody ever
thinks about the unaesthetic s