Some struggled in the convulsions of lockjaw. There lay one, his face black with the flies which infested the air, turning his eyes to all sides for help, but no one responded. There lay another, shirt, flesh and blood forming a compact mass that could not be detached. Here a soldier entirely disfigured, his tongue protruding from a shattered jaw, attracted M. Dunant’s pitying attention, and taking a sponge full of water he squeezed it into the formless cavity representing the man’s mouth. There, a miserable victim, whose nose, lips and chin had been taken off by a sabre cut, unable to speak and half blind, made signs with his hands, and M. Dunant brought him water and bathed his wounds gently. A third, with cloven skull, expired in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the church, a horrible spectacle, and those about him pushed aside his body with their feet, as it obstructed the passage. By Sunday morning, though every household had become a hospital, M. Dunant succeeded in organizing a volunteer corps of women to aid the hundreds of wounded in the churches and open squares who were without assistance. Food and drink had to be brought them, as they were literally dying of hunger and thirst; their wounds had to be dressed; their poor bleeding bodies, covered with dust and vermin, washed, and all this in a terrible heat, in a nauseating atmosphere, and amidst the cries and lamentation of the suffering. In the largest church of Castiglione were nearly five hundred soldiers and a hundred more lay on the pavement in front of the church. In the churches the Lombard women—young and old—went from one to another, carrying water and giving courage to the wounded. From the fountains the boys brought great jugs of water. After the thirst of the suffering men had been assuaged, bouillon and soup were provided. Before any lint had been obtained the men’s underlinen had been torn into bandages to bind their wounds. M. Dunant bought new linen and sent his carriage to Brescia for other necessary supplies, for oranges, lemons and sugar, for refreshing drinks. He secured some new recruits for his volunteer band of mercy—an old naval officer, some English tourists, a Swiss merchant and a Parisian journalist. Some of these soon found the work more than they could endure and withdrew.