Then, after the _Tantum ergo_ had been sung with vigour, the priest held up the monstrance, and I saw all those soldiers with one accord kneel down on the stone floor and bow their heads. The silence was impressive; not a word, not a cough, and not a chair moved. I had never seen such devotion in any church. Some spiritual power was brooding over the assemblage and bowing all those heads in token of submission and hope. Good, brave soldiers of France, how we love and honour you at such moments, and what confidence your chiefs must feel when they lead such men to battle! * * * * * We sat at table around the lamp, and good Maman Cheveret had just brought in the steaming soup. Right away towards the east we heard the dull roll of the cannon. Good Monsieur Cheveret had just brought up from his cellar a venerable bottle of his best Burgundy, and, at the invitation of the Captain, he sat down to drink a glass with us, smoking his cherry-wood pipe and listening with delight to our merry chat. Gosset was in his kitchen next door preparing a delicious piece of beef _à la mode_ and at the same time telling Maman Cheveret about his exploits of the past month. We heard the men of the first troop cracking their jokes in the yard as they ate their rations and emptied their pannikin of wine under a brilliant moon. Down in the valley on the banks of the murmuring Vesle, songs and laughter floated up to us from the artillery park. And the village itself, shining under the starlit sky, seemed bathed in an atmosphere of cheerfulness, courage and confidence. FOOTNOTES: [14] All numerals relate to stories herein told--not to chapters from original sources. "FIELD HOSPITAL AND FLYING COLUMN"--IN RUSSIA _Journal of an English Nursing Sister_ _Told by Violetta Thurstan_ This English woman relates her experiences as an eye witness and participant. "For me," she says, "the beginning of the War was a torchlight tattoo on Salisbury Plain. It was fascinating to watch the stately entrance into the field of Lancers, Irish Rifles, Welsh Fusiliers, Grenadiers and many another gallant regiment, each marching into the field in turn to the swing of their own particular regimental tune until they were all drawn up in order." She then tells about "The Beginning of It All"; "Her Experiences in Charleroi and Roundabout"; "The Return to Brussels"; "Our Work in Warsaw"; "The Bombardment of Lodz," and "The Trenches at Radzivilow." These and many other stories have been collected into a volume under the title "Field Hospital and Flying Column." The stories told here are by permission of her publishers, _G. P. Putnam's Sons_. [15] I--WITH GRAND DUCHESS CYRIL IN WARSAW