We arrived. We entered. "Take
me," I said, "to the battle-pictures, so that I may study my country's
glories."
"Right!" he answered, and with a promptitude that does him immense
credit, he brought me out into a huge arena in the open air with seats
all round it, a grand stand, and crowds of spectators. The performance
in the arena so deeply interested me that I forgot all about the
pictures. I saw at once what it was. Detachments of our citizen
soldiers were going through ambulance drill. The sight was one which
appealed to our common humanity. My daring, dangerous Yeomanry days
rose up again before me, and I felt that if ever I had had to bleed
for my QUEEN I should not have bled untended. Even my companion,
a scoffer, who had never risen above a full privacy in the Eton
Volunteers, was strangely moved. There were, I think, ten detachments,
each provided with a stretcher and a bag containing simple surgical
appliances. All that was wanted to complete the realism of the picture
was the boom of the cannon, the bursting of shells, and the rattle of
musketry. In imagination I supplied them, as I propose to do, for your
benefit, Sir, in the following short account.
It was a sultry afternoon; the battle had been raging for hours; the
casualties had been terrible.
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