The first time when the Germans had only been there for about ten days, and huge masses were sent to the scene of battle, because they had decided to break through at any cost. Along the coast the German line did not reach far beyond Mariakerke, where a big German flag on a high dune indicated their most advanced front. Thanks to the consent of a couple of officers I was allowed to push on to the front lines, and did this in spite of the danger from bursting shrapnel. The wounded had to walk back from there to Ostend, very often suffering the most trying pains, because, according to what they told me, the Red Cross Service was not able to help them all. They were very dissatisfied on account of the waste of human life by which the attacks were accompanied, and some made bitter remarks about the staff which seemed to be mad, constantly sending new troops into the murderous fire with such evident callousness. I have been able to assist a good many of these unfortunate people by bandaging the wounds with the dressing they gave me, or getting some water for them from some house in the neighbourhood; and one, who had fallen down exhausted by pain, I carried into a house. I had more trouble with a wretch who, being heavily wounded in both legs, lay on the top of a dune beyond Mariakerke. He was quite alone, and when he discovered me his eyes glistened, full of hope. He told me of his agonies, and beseeched me to take him to a house or an ambulance. However much I should have liked to do that, it was impossible in the circumstances in which I found myself. Nowhere, even in the farthest distance, was a house to be seen, and I tried to explain the position to him. But he turned a deaf ear to all my exhortations, and insisted that I should help him. It was a painful business, for I could not do the impossible. So I promised him, and took my oath that I should warn the first ambulance I met, and see to it that they came and fetched him. I went away urging him to maintain his courage for the time being, but he had scarcely noticed that I was about to go, when his eyes began to gleam and to roll in his head; then he took his rifle, which was lying by his side, and I, seeing his intention, ran down the dune as quickly as possible, whilst I heard the well-known click-clack behind me; the man had fired two bullets at me.... I must not take that sort of thing amiss. Who knew with how much pain and how long he had been lying there, facing death, but fearing it too. At last someone came near, and he put all his hope in that man, but a hope that vanished. Yes, I can quite understand that a man in those conditions goes mad.