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increased. Outwardly it was a pleasant place to be lazy in. Morning sunshine slanted through the tall windows, brightening the grey-green walls and the forty beds. Daffodils and tulips made spots of colour under three red-draped lamps which hung from the ceiling. Some officers lay humped in bed, smoking and reading newspapers; others loafed about in dress- ing-gowns, going to and from the washing room where they scraped the bristles from their contented faces. A raucous gramophone continually ground out pop- ular tunes. In the morning it was rag-time—Every" body's Doing it and At the Fox-Trot Ball. (Somewhere a Voice is calling, God send you back to me, and such-like sentimental songs were reserved for the evening hours.) Before midday no one had enough energy to begin talking war shop, but after that I could always hear scraps of conversation from around the two fire- places. My eyes were reading one of Lamb's Essays, but my mind was continually distracted by such phrases as "Barrage lifted at the first objective", "shelled us with heavy stuff", "couldn't raise enough decent N.C.O.s", "first wave got held up by machine- guns", and "bombed them out of a sap". There were no serious cases in the ward, only flesh wounds and sick. These were the lucky ones, already washed clean of squalor and misery and strain. They were lifting their faces to the sunlight, warming their legs by the fire; but there wasn't much to talk about except the War* In the evenings they played cards at a table oppo- site my bed; the blinds were drawn, the electric light was on, and a huge fire glowed on walls and ceiling. Glancing irritably up from my book I criticized the faces of the card-players and those who stood watching the game. There was a lean airman in a grey dressing- 553