When they arrived at the hospital and were drawn up in line in the admittance hall, it was perhaps a pardonable curiosity which prompted the orderlies to crowd around and get a glimpse of the first German prisoners they had ever seen. The _Bosche_ corporal took his stand beside the registrar’s desk and called out, in English, the names, numbers and regiments of each of the prisoners. Amongst them were Prussians, Bavarians and German Poles. It is difficult to say how this medley of nationalities came to be together. Sergeant Honk was in the forefront among the orderlies, and perhaps that was the reason he was drawn still further into the limelight. For suddenly a prisoner, putting his hand into the pocket of his coat, drew forth a hand grenade, and thrust it at him. Honk was startled, and, jerking his half-extended hand away with great expedition, backed hastily from the evil-looking bomb. "’Ere you!" he gasped excitedly, "wot the dooce are ye h’up to now?" "_Ein ’souvenir’ für Ihnen,_" said the German, astonished at Honk’s precipitate retreat. Honk understood only the one word, but that was enough. "H’I down’t want any damn dangerous souvenir like that!" he returned wrathfully. "Put it h’on the tyble!" The German, gathering his meaning from his actions rather than Honk’s words, did as he was bidden, and stepped back into line. "The bleedin’ fool might ’a’ blowed h’up the ’ole hospital," he declaimed peevishly to his companions, "whippin’ out ’is blimed h’infernal machine like that; blessed if h’I wouldn’t ’a’ put ’im in the clink fer h’it." Burnham now ordered our men to get about their business and proceeded with the allotment of beds for the prisoners. A slight difficulty arose at this point, as to their disposal. The colonel had decided to put them all in one ward; but, as we had no armed guard, we thought they would be safer if distributed in the several rooms. A number of them were so slightly wounded that, if segregated in one room, they might easily concoct schemes for escape or even offence. At the same time, by decentralising them, they would not only be under surveillance by the ward orderlies, but by the British Tommies as well, and there would be little opportunity for collusion. This plan was finally adopted. The Prussians fell to Reggy’s lot; the Bavarians to mine, and the balance were divided amongst the different wards. The next morning Reggy, who had studied in Berlin and spoke excellent German, when making his rounds approached the bed of a tall, fair-haired prisoner, whose steely blue eyes contained no hint of welcome, and who, in spite of his good treatment, was still openly suspicious of us. After bidding him _guten Morgen_ and dressing his wound—which was in the place we would have liked to see all Germans "get it," viz.: the neck, Reggy enquired: "What do you think of the war? Do you still think you are going to win?"