impaired by their age, and we feasted on them gratefully. I had a map, but it was so dark, and all the inhabitants of the villages having gone to bed, whilst all the sentries were "strangers in those parts," that we had the greatest trouble in locating the roads we were on. Then, about ten o'clock, our chain went again, this time it meant a much longer stop, as Whitehead, in despair, found that two links had gone. Down we sat in the mud and tried to make links out of bits of wire, &c. Nothing held, and at last we stood up and sadly agreed that we had better try and make ourselves eomfortable in the car till daylight came, when suddenly I had the brilliant idea of sending him back with a lamp to where the chain broke. He stayed away a good quarter of an hour, and I was getting sleepier and sleepier, when he appeared cheerfully with both links, which he proceeded to fix on. He really was a good man, for he never got cross or disheartened, and was always willing to try anything one suggested when in a difficulty.

The chain mended, we were continuing our road, carefully feeling our way with only the little lamps (the ditches were very big and deep in that part of the country), when suddenly we were challenged by a sentry. We stopped, and he asked for our papers; we showed them, he saluted, saying they were quite in order, but we could not pass without the password for the night. He added that he was exceed

ingly sorry, but his orders were final; no one could pass over the bridge after nine o'clock without the password. This was the first we had heard of a bridge, and on peering out we discovered that we were standing on a bridge over a broad river, with no parapet whatever. It was lucky we had been going so carefully. We asked the sentry's advice as to how to obtain the password, and he answered that only one person could give it to us, the General of the Army Corps, who on our inquiry proved to be quartered about six miles back along the road by which we had just come. We backed oarefully off the bridge and started on our weary way back to the General's quarters.

Arrived at the village, we asked the sentry at the entrance for the whereabouts of the General; he directed us to a house close to the gate. It didn't look at all like 8 General's quarters, but I hopefully tried a soldier who was standing at the door. His answer was that this was the Mess, and the General had left a good hour before. He did not know where he had gone to. Luckily at that moment I spied two officers going along on the other side of the street, with their collars turned up, evidently hurrying to get into the warmth of their own billets.

We hastily pursued them, and I begged them to tell me how to get the password to get over the bridge. The same answer, "You must go to the General-he is the only person who can give it to you,

and he went to bed an hour ago." At my doleful countenance, the man who was talking burst out laughing, and asked what had happened, and why I was driving about at that time of night. I told him my sad tale, and explained that we had a lot of work to do and I was most anxious to get back to Cormons that night.

The two were at onee most sympathetic, and the senior one, a Major, suggested getting into the car and taking me himself to where the General lived; but he warned me that if the General had indeed gone to bed, it would be more than our lives were worth to wake him up. I gathered he was not easy, and I did not find him so. He hadn't gone to bed, and presently appeared at the door of the motor, very gruff, and wanting to know who I was and what I was doing, and what reason I had te suppose that he had any intention of providing me with any password whatever. He also asked what business I had to rout him out at that time of night, and asked if I was aware that it was close on midnight. I answered humbly that if he would let me come in where there was a light, I could show him all my papers, telling him at the same time that I had at least fourteen different ones to prove my identity, and that I understood that he was my only hope, so I threw myself on his mercy. I caught a sign of softening in his eye, and got out of the car on the far side from where he was standing, blocking the way, and most

unwillingly he led the way into the house. The kind Major, who had waited on the far side of the street until he saw what luck I had, fled when he saw me go in, and not a mement too seen, as the General turned round on reaching the door to say, "Where is that pestilential Major who showed you where I lived?" and turning to me, added, " "Do you know his name?" I assured him I hadn't any idea as to who he was or where he had gone, and the General, grumbling to himself, followed me into a little room on the ground floor, where there was a fire, and some coffee on the table. I laid my papers on the table, and went to the fire to try and get warm, while he busied himself with them. I suppose he saw me looking longingly at the coffee, as he suddenly asked, still in a very grumpy voice, when I had last had anything to eat. I told him, not since midday, as we were hurrying to try and get back to Cormons that night, but that owing to breakdowns with the car I was sadly becoming convinced that we should not manage it. He glanced at the clock, and said drily, "No, I shouldn't think you would," and continued reading my papers, but looked up again at me in a few minutes to say I might take some coffee if I liked. I should think he was half an hour before he seemed to have finished, and then he began again, as if I hadn't told him already: "What do you want me to do for you?"

I repeated patiently, "May I,

please, have the password to oross the bridge?" He at once said, quite simply and plainly, "No." I got wearily on to my feet, and asked him if there was a hotel in the village. He said there was one, but it was full of his officers, and there was no other possible house. So I advanced towards the door and said good-night, I was sorry I had disturbed him for nothing. He looked up and asked me what I meant to do, and I said, "Sleep in the car."

I think his conscience smote him, as he suddenly became quite friendly and said

"I won't give you the password, because it will only pass you into another Army, and you would have to rout up another General to get out of it again, and you might not be so successful in finding him up as you have been in finding me; so I will show you & short out to Udine, and from there you

ought to be able to find your way, as you will then be in your own Army."

He then proceeded to give the most complicated direotions of "Third turn to the left, first turn to the right, then turn right again, and it doesn't look like a road," &o.

I stopped him there and said, "Nothing looks like a road in this darkness. Please let me see a map."

He thereupon brought out a map, and all became clear-his excuse for not having done it before being that he thought women could not read maps!

We then parted, and Whitehead and I drove on into the night to try our luck at more short cuts. We eventually found our way, but not without great difficulty, as, added to the darkness, there was now an impenetrable fog. We crawled home, arriving at 3 A.M., and very grateful to find some soup still simmering on the stove for us.

The Austrians were determined to get the station, and shelled first the station of Cormons and then the little siding of Povia, which was at the end of our road. (They were firing fan-shape, which is always disagreeable if you are included in the fan.) The first few shells brought streams of peasants and townspeople carrying babies, and dragging small children by any portion of their persons or clothes that first came

handy. They came running under our windows wailing and crying, all making for the dug-outs that were in the hill about half a kilometre behind our house. After them, at the bursting of more shells, eame oxen lumbering along, goaded into a gallop by their terrified masters, who could not get them along fast enough. We became accustomed to all this, as they (the Austrians) took to sending a few shells every morning at about nine

o'clock, and we soon took very little interest in them.

It was marvellous how little damage they did. One morning they sent seventy-three highexplosive shells into and all round the station, and the sum total of total of the damage was one girl killed and one mule.

Our house was well under the shelter of Monte Quarin, so most of the big shells came over our heads; the smaller ones being sent from a different place, used to come straight for the house, but always fell short-luckily for us!

By this time we had got thoroughly into our work, and our clientèle was increasing by leaps and bounds. At first we used to have only one hospital or perhaps two a day to go to; but very soon they increased, and eventually we came to serving fifty-seven different hospitals-some in the Second Army and some in the Third. The roads were pretty bad the first year we were there, but after the taking of Gorizia they were soon mended and became excellent. The first winter we several times fell into the deep ditches which bordered the roads, as it was next to impossible on very wet days to see where the road ended and where the ditch began. I remember one day we had been called to one of the foremost field hospitals; it had been pouring with rain, and the road was practically under water. We were behind, and the big Austin car with

the apparatus was trundling along in front, when there was a lurch, and over she went on to her side into a deep ditch full of water, which we had not known was there. We all descended into two feet of water to consult as to what was to be done. We had a rope, and tried attaching it to our touring - car. Having started up the Berliet she pulled well enough, but the X-Ray car only settled more firmly on her side into the ditch, The Austrians chose that moment to begin firing on the road; 80 we told Whitehead to take the Berliet on and put her under cover of some rather battered houses, and then come back to see what could be done.

We were still cogitating when a shell sang over and dropped in the field just beyond the car, followed in a few minutes by another and another. I think they had seen us, and were taking pot-shots at us-rather mean, as we had a huge red cross on the top as well as on the sides of the car. Anyway, it had the effect of making a lot of men who were sheltering under a wall come quickly to our help. In vain we said it was not worth their risking themselves; they insisted on helping, and with about twenty of them propping the car up and a lorry pulling on the road, we soon got the car out again, and none the worse for the upset. The Austrians had put about six shells all told round the car, and we were very lucky not to have had any damage.

The apparatus was so well packed and fitted that nothing had moved. The soldiers flatly refused to take any kind of reward, as they said that we were all doing the

same kind of work. Whenever we got into difficulties we had the same help, and the same answer if we remonstrated. Is it a wonder that we love the Italian soldier?

For six months Mrs Hollings and I carried on the work alone. We used to start out about nine o'clock in the morning with Hewett (a Red Cross man) driving, and Mrs Hollings and myself in front, and Whitehead, the other Red Cross driver, at the back. Arrived at the Hospital that had sent for us, the first thing to do was to send an orderly to find the Director, or failing him the Head Surgeon. Then, accompanied by him, a voyage of discovery was necessary to find a suitable place in which to put our apparatus. This was usually simple, but we have had to work in many strange places -in granaries, lavatories, passages, and two or three times in a mortuary. Often, too, in cellars, when there was a bombardment going on; but cellars were never very practical, as they were usually damp, and made all our wires short circuit.

The spot settled, the order was given to unpack. One of us usually went downstairs to superintend the unloading, while the other stayed in the room to receive and arrange the stuff as it came up. The important point was to find a place that could be made dark, also one that had a

window looking out on the side of the house where the oar was standing, so that the cable which conveyed the current could come up through the window.

The doctors soon learnt what we wanted, and when they had time, used to have a room prepared before our arrival-windows covered, rooms cleared, &o. They were very patient, too, waiting while we arranged our tube, got it centred, and tried its light. We took turns as to which of us sat at the switch-board and managed the current, and which looked through the screen and searched for the damage-broken bone, bullet, piece of metal, stone, or other foreign body. Looking through the soreen is called radioseoping, as distinguished from radiographing, which is the taking of the photograph.

Once all was arranged and the light from the tube satisfactory, the wounded man was brought in, usually marvellously patient and good. A few of them were terrified, and convinced we were going to take their arm or leg off there and then, but, as a rule, they were very easy to pacify and did their best to help us in our search. If asked to help, they