crutches, with legs amputated, and at least one man had lost that necessary faculty for trench warfare, his eyesight. They appeared to be accepting the absurd situation stoically; they were allowed to smoke. The Staff Officer who was drawing diagrams on a black- board was obviously desirous of imparting informa- tion about the lesson which had been learnt from the Battle of Ncuve Chapelle or some equally obsolete engagement. But I noticed several faces in the audi- ence which showed signs of tortured nerves, and it was unlikely that their efficiency was improved by the lecturer, who concluded by reminding us of the para- mount importance of obtaining offensive ascendancy in no-man's-land. In the afternoon I had an interview with the doctor who was empowered to decide how soon I went to the country. One of the men with whom I shared a room had warned me that this uniformed doctor was a queer customer. "The blighter seems to take a posi- tive pleasure in tormenting people," he remarked, adding, * 'He'll probably tell you that you'll have to stay here till you're passed fit for duty." But I had contrived to obtain a letter from the Countess of Somewhere, recommending me for one of the country houses in her Organization; so I felt fairly secure. (At that period of the War people with large houses received convalescent officers as guests.) The doctor, a youngish man dressed as a temporary Captain, began by behaving quite pleasantly. After he'd examined me and the document which outlined my insignificant medical history, he asked what I pro- posed to do now. I said that I was hoping to get sent to some place in the country for a few weeks. He re- plied that I was totally mistaken if I thought any such thing. An expression, which I can only call cruel.