My War Experiences in Two Continents | Page 6

summons to all of us "heads" to come to her bureau. She had
grave news for us. The British Consul had just been to say that all the
English must leave Antwerp; two forts had fallen, and the Germans
were hourly expected to begin shelling the town. We were told that all
the wounded who could travel were to go to Ostend, and the worst
cases were to be transferred to the Military Hospital.
I do not think it would be easy to describe the confusion that followed.
All the men's clothes had to be found, and they had to be got into them,
and woe betide if a little cap or old candle was missing! All wanted
serving at once; all wanted food before starting. In the midst of the
general mêlée I shall always remember one girl, silently, quickly, and
ceaselessly slicing bread with a loaf pressed to her waist, and handing it
across the counter to the men.
With one or two exceptions the staff all wanted to remain in Antwerp. I
myself decided to abandon the unit and stay on here as an individual or
go to Ostend with the men. Mrs. Stobart, being responsible, had to take
the unit home. It was a case of leaving immediately; we packed what
stores we could, but the beds and X-ray apparatus and all our material
equipment would have to be left to the Germans. I think all felt as
though they were running away, but it was a military order, and the

Consul, the British Minister, and the King and Queen were leaving. We
went to eat lunch together, and as we were doing so Mrs. Stobart
brought the news that the Consul had come to say that reinforcements
had come up, the situation changed for the better, and for the present
we might remain. Anyone who wanted to leave might do so, but only
four did.
We have since heard what happened. The British Minister cabled home
to say that Antwerp was the key to the whole situation and must not fall,
as once in here the Germans would be strongly entrenched, supplied
with provisions, ammunition, and everything they want. A Cabinet
Council was held at 3 a.m. in London, and reinforcements were ordered
up. Winston Churchill is here with Marines. They say Colonel
Kitchener is at the forts.
The firing sounds very near. Dr. Hector Munro and Miss St. Clair and
Lady Dorothy Fielding came over to-day from Ghent, where all is quiet.
They wanted me to return with them to take a rest, which was absurd,
of course.
Some fearful cases were brought in to us to-day. My God, the horror of
it! One has heard of men whom their mothers would not recognise.
Some of the wounded to-day were amongst these. All the morning we
did what we could for them. One man was riddled with bullets, and
died very soon.
It is awful work. The great bell rings, and we say, "More wounded,"
and the men get stretchers. We go down the long, cold covered way to
the gate and number the men for their different beds. The stretchers are
stiff with blood, and the clothes have to be cut off the men. They cry
out terribly, and their horror is so painful to witness. They are so young,
and they have seen right into hell. The first dressings are removed by
the doctors--sometimes there is only a lump of cotton-wool to fill up a
hole--and the men lie there with their tragic eyes fixed upon one. All
day a nurse has sat by a man who has been shot through the lungs. Each
breath is painful; it does not bear writing about. The pity of it all just
breaks one's heart. But I suppose we do not see nearly the worst of the
wounded.

The lights are all off at eight o'clock now, and we do our work in the
dark, while the orderlies hold little torches to enable the doctors to
dress the wounds. There are not half enough nurses or doctors out here.
In one hospital there are 400 beds and only two trained nurses.
[Page Heading: ARRIVAL OF BRITISH TROOPS]
Some of our own troops came through the town in London omnibuses
to-day. It was quite a Moment, and we felt that all was well. We went
to the gate and shook hands with them as they passed, and they made
jokes and did us all good. We cheered and waved handkerchiefs.
5-6 October.--I think the last two days have been the most ghastly I
ever remember. Every day seems to bring news of defeat. It is awful,
and the Germans are quite close now. As I write the house shakes with
the firing. Our troops are falling back, and