In a certain section of the country one could see from a prominent hill across some cities and onward to the edge of the German lines. The region has been much fought over and in fact is an old battle ground. One terribly drizzly day it became necessary to go over to a nearby village to evacuate a hospital. Wild tales had come in about the "strafing" which the town was being subjected to and we were immediately ordered to hurry to the spot. It was said that the Germans were shelling the place with "H. E.'s" from a distance of about twenty miles, with shells of fifteen and seventeen inch caliber. If there is anything which will put the fear of God in a man it is the explosion of one of those "big fellows."

From the frightened faces of the men who had just come from there, I think the whole town had suddenly become a God-fearing people—since six o'clock that morning. They told us that hundreds of people had been killed and that many buildings were in flames. Well, we went to our car and tried to start it but it would not crank. We tried everything we could think of but it was of no use. The chilly night evidently had cooled the engine too much. We heated a kettle of water and fed it into the radiator and poured it over the carburetor. This helped some, for she sputtered a little but the engine did not take enough gas to turn over. Finally after I had taken out all the spark plugs and given them a good cleaning with gasoline, I cranked up and she started off with a bang.

All this time the men who had come in from the burning village had been urging us to hurry. Their impatience added so much to our nervousness that it made us almost angry. Any man who has motor trouble will appreciate it. At last we started the ambulance. Just as we were going out the gate—whish! We picked up a tack and our rear tire was flat! It took me about eight minutes to take off that tire and put a new one on, but it seemed like hours. The men who had been telling us how to do it now climbed into the back of the car and went along with us. We had been on the road only a few minutes when we met a man coming down the road pulling behind him a two-wheeled cart. He raised his hands as a signal to stop. We did. Then, with tears streaming down his face, he began to talk to us, pointing to the cart which was covered with old rag carpet. At last he lifted the carpet and showed us the lifeless body of a woman, of his wife! The body was horribly mutilated, the head and right arm were entirely gone and the left hand was blown to shreds. As the poor man looked at the corpse he became fairly frantic, screaming and moaning. We tried to say some words of sympathy but the only answer he could give us was, O, ma femme! ma femme! We climbed out of the car and while we stood there an old man and a little girl came trudging up—the daughter and father of the woman. They, too, began to cry. Suddenly the old man reeled and fell to the ground. When we picked him up he was dead. He had died of a broken heart. We lifted his body into the cart beside that of his daughter. I never felt so heartless in my life as I did when we left that man and little girl to stumble on with their burden of sorrow.

When we reached the village, the situation confirmed all the rumors. The shelling had stopped, but the burning of the buildings was almost as bad. We drove down the street to the public square and just then over on the opposite corner a large caliber shell came crashing in, striking a school building, exploding and producing a fearful effect. Twelve children were killed and the entire schoolhouse destroyed. The force of these large projectiles is almost inconceivable. Very often a single one will completely annihilate an entire building, reducing it to a pile of bricks, dust and kindling wood. I have seen one of them practically demolish two houses separated by several feet.

Well, at last we got to the hospital. Shells had burst around it but none had struck it as yet, and the few people who were there were badly frightened. We carried a load of wounded back to the base and with the help of the other ambulances after several hours we evacuated the hospital. Before the work was finished, however, the Germans had shelled the road and it became a difficult matter to pick our way along and dodge the craters. A shell burst just in front of one of the cars and covered the driver with fine pieces of stone and dust.

As evening drew on the great volcano-like explosions from the guns in the distance lighted up the sky and made an inspiring and awful spectacle. As the guns belched forth their messages of death one might have thought he was in the midst of a hundred powder factories which were exploding periodically. There was something fascinating about it all, yet frightful, but as I reflected on the capacity for ruin and death which those engines of war possessed, I thought I would prefer to be farther away. The firing ceased as night came on and the atmosphere cleared up. A wonderful red moon rose in the heavens above those awful scenes and for some brief hours brought a feeling of peace and calm.