The rear was brought up by Red Cross wagons and forage carts, commissariat wagons, and all the miscellaneous kit of an army on the march. It took thirty-six hours altogether for the army to march in and take possession. They installed themselves in the Palais de Justice and the Hotel de Ville, having requisitioned beds, food and everything that they wanted from the various hotels. Poor Madame of the Hotel X. wept and wrung her hands over the loss of her beautiful beds. Alas, poor Madame! The next day her husband was shot as a spy, and she cared no longer about the beds. In the meantime, just as it got dark, I installed my last two nurses in the little ambulance out beyond the barriers. II CHARLEROI AND ROUND ABOUT The Germans had asked for three days to pass through the city of Brussels; a week had passed and they showed no signs of going. The first few days more and more German soldiers poured in--dirty, footsore, and for the most part utterly worn out. At first the people of Brussels treated them with almost unnecessary kindness--buying them cake and chocolate, treating them to beer, and inviting them into their houses to rest--but by the end of the week these civilities ceased. Tales of the German atrocities began to creep in--stories of Liege and Louvain were circulated from mouth to mouth, and doubtless lost nothing by being repeated. [Illustration: MAP OF BELGIUM] There was no _real_ news at all. Think how cut off we were--certainly it was nothing in comparison with what it was afterwards--but we could not know that then--and anyway we learnt to accommodate ourselves to the lack of news by degrees. Imagine a Continental capital suddenly without newspapers, without trains, telephones, telegraphs; all that we had considered up to now essentials of civilized life. Personally, I heard a good deal of Belgian news, one way and another, as I visited all my flock each day in their various hospitals and ambulances stationed in every part of the city. The hospital that we had to improvise at the fire-station was one of the most interesting pieces of work we had to do in Brussels. There were 130 beds altogether in six large wards, and the Sisters had to sleep at first in one, later in two large dormitories belonging to firemen absent on active service. The firemen who were left did all the cooking necessary for the nursing staff and patients, and were the most charming of men, leaving nothing undone that could augment the Sisters' comfort.