That is what we are known as, that is what you must call, If you want "Officers' Luggage," "Sisters," "Patients" an' all, "Details for Burial Duty," "Hospital Stores" or "Supply," Ring up the ambulance convoy, "Turn out the F.A.N.Y." They used to say we were idling--once; Joy-riding round the battle-field--once; Wasting petrol and carbide--once: Now we're the F.A.N.Y. That is what we are known as; we are the children to blame, For begging the loan of a spare wheel, and fitting a car to the same; We don't even look at a workshop, but the Sergeant comes up with a sigh: "It's no use denyin' 'em _nothin_'! Give it the F.A.N.Y." We used to fancy an air raid--once; Called it a bit of excitement--once; Prided ourselves on our tin-hats once: Now we're the F.A.N.Y. That is what we are known as; we are the girls who have been Over three years at the business; felt it, smelt it and seen. Remarkably quick to the dug-out now, when the Archies rake the sky; Till they want to collect the wounded, then it's "Out with the F.A.N.Y." "Crank! crank! you Fannies; Stand to your 'buses again; Snatch up the stretchers and blankets, Down to the barge through the rain." Up go the 'planes in the dawning; 'Phone up the cars to "Stand by." There's many a job with the wounded: "Forward, the F.A.N.Y." I dreaded the journey over, and, though the sea for some time past had been as smooth as glass, quite a storm got up that evening. All the orderlies who had waited on me came in early next morning to bid goodbye, and Captain C. carried me out of my room and downstairs to the hall. I insisted on wearing my F.A.N.Y. cap and tunic to look as if nothing was the matter, and once more I was on a stretcher. A bouquet of red roses arrived from the French doctor just before I was carried out of the hall, so that I left in style! It was an early start, for I was to be on board at 7 a.m., before the ship was loaded up from the train. Eva drove me down in her ambulance and absolutely crawled along, so anxious was she to avoid all bumps. One of the sisters came with me and was to cross to Dover as well (since the Boche had not even respected hospital ships, sisters only went over with special cases). It struck me as odd that all the trees were out; they were only in bud when I last saw them. Many of the French people we passed waved adieu, and I saw them explaining to their friends in pantomime just what had happened. On the way to the ship I lost my leg at least four times over!