In that hut the workers aimed constantly at getting into personal touch with the men. This was far easier in the Con. Camp than at the base camp where "Woodbine" was. The numbers of men were smaller. As a rule they stayed longer with us. But at best it is only possible for a canteen worker to make friends with a few men. With most of those who enter the hut she can have no personal relations. But I am sure that the work done is of immense value, and it is probably those who need sympathy and friendship most who come seeking it, a little shyly, from the ladies who serve them. In normal times the Con. Camp received men from the hospitals; men who were not yet fit to return to their regiments, but who had ceased to need the constant ministrations of doctors and nurses. The conditions of life were more comfortable than in base camps, much more comfortable than at the front or in billets. The men slept in large tents, warmed and well lighted. They had beds. The food was good and abundant. Great care and attention was given to the cooking. Much trouble was taken about amusements. The camp had a ground for football and cricket. It possessed a small stage, set up in one of the dining-halls, where plays were acted, a Christmas pantomime performed, and a variety entertainment given every week. There were whist drives with attractive prizes for the winners. Duty was light. Besides the "fatigues" necessary for keeping the camp in order there were route marches for those who could march, and an elaborate system of physical exercises under trained instructors. The men remained in camp for varying periods. No man was kept there for more than three months. But some men passed through the camp being marked fit almost as soon as they left hospital. That was the normal routine; but it happened once while I was there that things became very abnormal and the organisation of the camp was tested with the utmost severity. Just before the Somme offensive began some mischievous devil put it into the heads of the authorities to close down the only other convalescent camp in the neighbourhood. Its inmates were sent to us and we had to make room for them. Our cricket ground was sacrificed. Paths were run across the pitch. Tents were erected all over it. My church tent became the home of a harmonium, the only piece of ecclesiastical salvage from the camp that was closed. Then my church tent was taken from me, sacrificed like all luxuries to the accommodation of men. Just as we were beginning to settle down again came the Somme offensive.