On the right of the British line - LightNovelsOnl.com
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War is a monstrous machine of the devil. At one end the manhood of Britain was pouring into its fiery cauldron; and here at the other end the devil was raking out the cinders.
My story is drawing to a close.
The hospital-train, bearing its human freight, pa.s.sed through Namur, Liege, Brussels, and Antwerp to the Dutch frontier.
All who could do so looked eagerly out of the window for the moment when they would pa.s.s into freedom.
The train stopped at a small station right on the frontier, and some formalities were gone through. It started again--there was a German sentry--there was a Dutch sentry--we were over. Hurrah!!!
Cheer after cheer rang out from that long line of prostrate men.
The train pulled up at a little station just across the border. The door of my carriage was flung open and a number of Dutch girls came to my bed, and a shower of things came tumbling all about me as they pa.s.sed one after the other, saying:
"Cigarettes, pleeze; apple, pleeze; cigar, pleeze; cake, pleeze; sweets, pleeze----"
I was in heaven.
My story is told.
I am back in my own home now; and as I conclude this record the postman brings me a letter. It is from my solicitors; I have torn it open, and find an account. The irony of fate closes the chapter:
"To services rendered in connection with the death of Captain n.o.bbs!"
