. A green tent in Flanders. s of toast are freshly made on the brightcoal fire by the nurses as they drop in andout, or by the volunteer ambulance driverswho, in this pause, through puffs of smoke,tell one another the news of the day. We are on the very edge of Belgium, somefive miles from the firing line, and only suchof the wounded are brought to us as maynot without danger be carried farther. Onmy way from the churchyard I had takena look round. Within the space encircledby our hedge there are sixteen woodenshacks in all, eight of them wards in whichabout one hundred and forty patients canb
. A green tent in Flanders. s of toast are freshly made on the brightcoal fire by the nurses as they drop in andout, or by the volunteer ambulance driverswho, in this pause, through puffs of smoke,tell one another the news of the day. We are on the very edge of Belgium, somefive miles from the firing line, and only suchof the wounded are brought to us as maynot without danger be carried farther. Onmy way from the churchyard I had takena look round. Within the space encircledby our hedge there are sixteen woodenshacks in all, eight of them wards in whichabout one hundred and forty patients canbe cared for. Among the other sights 56 A GREEN TENT IN FLANDERS 57 Miss Carr (or Night Hawk, as theCanadian nurse, my companion at thefmieral, humorously calls herself) hadpointed out to me the operating room withits radiographic cabinet, the pharmacy, thesailed^ attente or waiting room, the wash-housewith the linen room or lingerie^ and thedoctors quarters. The remainder, eked outby tents, some gray, some green, are sleep-. ing quarters for the staff. All the shacksand tents are connected by narrow walksor trottoirs which thread quite picturesquelyback and forth across our muddy tea I take possession of the cur-tained-ofif portion of one of the shacksshared by three. This corner is to be my 58 A GREEN TENT IN FLANDERS shelter. Privacy is almost as far from thislife as from a campers. On the other sideof a divided somewhat skirapy curtain is apassage with a door at each end. It doesnot make so much difference as one mightthink whether the doors are open or blows, creaks, and flaps to-gether. Even the roofs, as I discoveredlater, in a high wind sometimes let go theirgrip of the walls. One feels much as aspider might in a tight crevice of bark withleaves for curtains. High up in the centre of the roof is thecommon electric light, usually—as no onehere has rigidly regular hours—^left burninguntil 10 p. M., when the lights automaticallygo out all
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Keywords: ., boo, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, booksubjectworldwar19141918
