"We are not barbarians. No, we are not barbarians. And if the civilians had not fired on us with rifles, we should not have had any burning here." "Those were not civilians. Those were soldiers." "Civilians," he said. "No. No. No. Soldiers." "Civilians," he repeated; "I know well what I am saying. I saw them." He made a gesture to show me that men had fired, while he cried in my ears with all his might "Civilians." He went in front of me, and stripped the second bed. I feared that he might speak to my wounded, and I thought I should do well if I placed myself at the head of each of the beds as he uncovered them. I stepped between the two beds, and I feared what would come of it all. In this way I made the round of the room with them, standing at each of the thirteen points, always placing myself at the pillow of each wounded man, while "they" advanced bed by bed, and cautiously. I did not know how they had arranged their weapons, but it seemed to me that they always had their finger placed on the trigger. The second man with his revolver held his gun a little low. I followed them, shutting the door, when they went to the Infirmary of the old men. They did not say anything and they did not promise that they would not set fire to us. How should I go about getting that promise? A third time I asked them: "It is clearly understood that we shall nurse your wounded, and that you will not burn this house." "They" start to leave, and go toward the door, walking slowly. When the chief was just leaving, I said again to him: "It is clearly understood that you will not harm us nor burn our house." "No, no." I looked to see if he gave the order to any of his soldiers. I didn't see that, but I noticed one of our sisters who was drawing a wheelbarrow with an old man in it, who weighed at least seventy-five kilos and who was paralyzed. "Where are you going?" I asked her. "Over there; the soldiers tell me that they are coming to set fire to the hospital," she replied. "One of our old men cried out to me, 'My sister, do not make us stay here. Let us go and die in peace, since they are killing everybody here. We would rather leave and die of hunger in the fields.' So I said, 'Come along, then.'" For the moment I am all alone in this room with my thirteen wounded men. I said to myself, "My God, what will become of me all alone in the midst of fire and blood." I stood a few seconds in the doorway and then went in to see our little soldiers. "My poor children, I ask your forgiveness for bringing in such a visitation, but I assure you that I thought my last quarter hour had come. I thought they were going to kill us all." "My sister, stay with us," they said; "stay with us." "I will bear the impossible, my children, to save your life." I remained there a few minutes, and then two German soldiers presented themselves with fixed bayonets. I stepped down the two stairs; see what an escort was there for me!