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[Page 197]

7
The over-crowding of mental notes becomes almost a burden of obliteration, thus I find I am inclined to wander along with a meagre outline of events when I should remain longer at one point.

Come back with me to where the poor wounded are still limping down from the front.

There is that long que of men moving slowly like a maimed brown dragon into the crude surgery. Many more wounded are seated on the grassy bank of the roadside, then there are others arriving singly and in twos and threes just down from the trenches with wounds almost dripping red. Also there are motor ambulance waggons arriving, every now and then, with the more seriously disabled and streatcher cases.

The men tell their stories to one another and all are strangely held in that fearful spell of dread, under which the overmastering terror of terrific destroying forces have sapped the nerve an cowed the spirit of them all. Mostly there is unusual seriousness amongst them and a fellow sympathy of depth and intensity never experienced in their lives before.

The moment is tragic and supreme, sweetened as it is with the realization of life retained; and unbittered with the heavy grief of loss. Only the full significance of this

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