There is a Major of ours on the train, getting a lift to Havre, who is specialist in pathology, and he has been investigating the bacillus of malignant oedema and of spreading gangrene. They are hunting anaerobes (Sir Almroth Wright at Boulogne and a big French Professor in Paris) for a vaccine against this, which has been persistently fatal. This man knew of two cases who were, as he puts it, "good cases for dying," and therefore good cases for trying his theory on. Both got well, began to recover within eight hours. And one of them was my re-enlisted Warwickshire man with the arm amputated, who was got out by the wounded officer and the Padre. _January 3rd._--A sergeant we took down to Havre yesterday told me of his battalion's very heavy losses. He said out of the 1400 of all ranks he came out with, there are now only 5 sergeants, 1 officer, and 72 men left. He said the young officers won't take cover--"they get too excited and won't listen to people who've 'ad a little experience." One would keep putting his head out of the trench because he hadn't seen a German. "I kept tellin' of him," said the sergeant, "but of course he got 'it!" VII. On No.-- Ambulance Train (5) WINTER ON THE TRAIN AND IN THE TRENCHES _January 7, 1915, to February 6, 1915_ "The winter and the dark last long: Grief grows and dawn delays: Make we our sword-arm doubly strong, And lift on high our gaze; And stanch we deep the hearts that weep, And touch our lips with praise." --_Anon._ VII. On No.-- Ambulance Train (5). WINTER ON THE TRAIN AND IN THE TRENCHES. _January 7, 1915, to February 6, 1915._ The Petit Vitesse siding--Uncomplainingness of Tommy--Painting the train--A painful convoy--The "Yewlan's" watch--"Officer dressed in bandages"--Sotteville--Versailles--The Palais Trianon--A walk at Rouen--The German view, and the English view--'Punch'--"When you return Conqueror"--K.'s new Army. _Thursday, January 7th._--We moved out of Boulogne about 4 A.M., and reached Merville (with many long waits) at 2 P.M. Loaded up there, and filled up at Hazebrouck on way back. Many cases of influenza with high temperatures, also rheumatisms and bad feet, very few wounded. When they got the khaki hankies they said, "Khaki? that's extra!" 9.30 P.M.--We have 318 on board this time, including four enterics, four diphtherias, and eighteen convalescent scarlets (who caught it from their billet). A quiet-looking little man has a very fine new German officer's helmet and sword. "He gave it to me," he said. "I had shot him through the lung. I did the wound up as best I could and tried to save him, but he died. He was coming for me with his sword." Seems funny to first shoot a man and then try to mop it up. The Germans don't; they finish you off.