The ambulance
is the truly horrible side of warfare. To see men lying dead on the ground
is, so to say, nothing. One gets used to it. But to see them amputated,
and to see them lying in bed suffering, often acutely, from dreadful
wounds, or horrible diseases--dysentery, typhus, small-pox--that is the
thing which tries the nerves of all but the doctors and the trained
nurses. On several occasions I helped to carry wounded men, and felt no
emotion in doing so; but more than once I was almost overcome by the sight
of all the suffering in some ambulance.
When, on the morning of January 12, I heard that a general retreat had
been ordered, I hesitated as to what course I should pursue. I did not
then anticipate the street-fighting, and the consequent violence of the
Germans. But journalistic instinct told me that if I remained in the town
until after the German entry I might then find it very difficult to get
away and communicate with my people. At the same time, I did not think the
German entry so imminent as proved to be the case; and I spent a
considerable time in the streets watching all the tumult which prevailed
there. Now and again a sadly diminished battalion went by in fairly good
order.
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