On September 5 the head doctor of the German ambulance gave orders to send to Amiens all the French wounded. The Amiens Red Cross sent twenty automobiles, with doctors and nurses, and the latter were on the point of restarting for Amiens when Colonel von Kosser, the Governor of the town, ordered them to be detained in Péronne, where they remained for two days in barracks, and were then released. The Red Cross people had to walk to Amiens, as the Germans kept the motor-cars. On September 14 Colonel von Kosser hurriedly left the town, and the next morning a division of French cavalry reoccupied the place. The Germans left so precipitately that they had to abandon the wounded and the ambulances. The staff of the latter consisted of seventy women, twenty-five doctors, 150 assistants, a Protestant chaplain, a Franciscan chaplain, and a few sisters. The latter were armed with heavy revolvers, which a German doctor said was to ensure the protection of their persons. In spite of such a gross violation of the Geneva Convention, the _personnel_ of the ambulances were treated with the greatest respect. The women were disarmed, and the ambulance, which was splendidly organised, was sent by special train to Switzerland. The _Daily Telegraph_ correspondent described how the English, in their retirement, came like an avalanche on Chantilly, followed closely by the Germans, after evacuating Compiègne. His informant was an English trainer who escaped with his wife under the fire of the German guns, leaving all his fine racehorses, goods, and chattels behind. “It was on Sunday last, August 30, he said, that the firing which had been coming nearer and nearer La Croix Saint-Ouen made him hurry into Compiègne to learn what was going on. He was surprised to find Compiègne become the headquarters of the retiring British Army. The sight was one of the most extraordinary he had ever seen. At a place I am not at liberty to mention he was suddenly met by what he calls an invasion of all that might be called English. First the motor vans appeared. All London, Manchester, and Liverpool seemed to be on the roads. English brewery vans and London motor-’buses with advertisements still on some of them led the way. Along came the vans of well-known firms like an avalanche. They raced down the roads, tooted without stopping, and made a deafening noise that echoed all over the forest. Provisions, guns, and ammunition were conveyed as fast as they could to the place assigned them in the rear. The drivers seemed to know the roads as if they had been over them every day for years.