The director of whom I have already spoken, and the directress, both were heavy donors to the hospital, as well as giving automobiles and servants as assistants. A godly clergyman from York acted in the triple capacity of chaplain, chauffeur on his own auto-ambulance, which his parishioners had given him when he left, and general chore boy. One of my finest recollections of him is on a Sunday evening when he held service, while outside the guns roared and shells from the enemy burst a mile or so to the north of us in plain view from the windows of the room in which the clergyman was interpreting the word of God. It was a most impressive ceremony. My last recollection of him, and it's just as fine, he had thrown aside his tunic and was working with pick and shovel digging a dump for the refuse of the hospital, the sweat rolling down his honest face. The above people are only among the most interesting of the staff. There were also a sheep farmer from the north of England, a journalist of London, a student from Oxford, and many other ladies and gentlemen who gave of their best, all of them, giving the French soldier scientific, sympathetic, and kindly attention. Those names mentioned will illustrate the personnel of hospitals such as this, for there were many of them on the western front in the early months of the war. Ours was a part of General Castelnau's army, and while nominally under the Red Cross we were under the discipline of the French army. General Berthier, who had charge at that time of the medical arrangements of that sector of the line, visited us daily, inspecting the whole institution, ordering this, advising that, and perhaps insisting upon something else. More ether and hydrogen peroxide were used by the French military surgeons in wounds than appealed to my ideas; but one little trick they had of sterilizing basins by rinsing them out with alcohol and touching a match to it--"flammer," they called it--was both rapid and thorough where steam sterilizers were not too common. Sometimes we were also inspected by civilian surgeons on behalf of the military authorities. Dr. Tuffier, a famous Paris surgeon, who is as well known on this continent as in Europe, came to make one of these periodical inspections. I had first met him at a surgical congress in Chicago before the war; then in Paris I had called upon him. "Ho, ho!" he said with a smile, "I have meet you one time in Chicago; then I have meet you in Paris; now I meet you here. Perhaps the nex' time it may be at the Nort' Pole that we meet"; and with a friendly slap on the shoulder he passed on. He had been very courteous to me in Paris, but had not given me the position that I desired so much. In fact I had found myself sometimes wishing that the French authorities had given me less politeness, but more opportunity to be of service.