It was broad daylight, the following morning, when we moved onwards towards Haelen. There was intense activity at Loxbergen; motor-cars and ambulances were taking their loads of wounded men to the Infirmary that had been installed in the school. They were laid there, side by side, on straw that was soon stained with blood. The atmosphere was impregnated with the odour of disinfectants. Sisters of Mercy, priests, doctors, and ambulance men lavished every care on them, seeking to alleviate their sufferings, to console them, to bring a gleam to their dim eyes by the mention of their absent families, of their homes, of their wives and children. The most hardened heart would have given way at the sight of those poor naked bodies, writhing with pain, of those mutilated limbs, of those twisted arms, and of those beseeching looks, there, in the midst of all the rags and bandages, uniforms, boots, and weapons flung in a heap in the corner, or on the school desks, where only a few days before, happy Belgian children were learning to read and to love their country. _The Battle-Field_ On leaving that den of pain and suffering, we felt a sort of relief in the open air, but this was not of long duration, as the sight of the battle-field filled us once more with anguish. In front of the church of this little village, and already covered with dust, dead horses were lying, overturned carriages, trampled straw, remains of food, and of fires, and all the vile chaos that an army leaves behind it. On the outskirts of the village, on the Haelen road we saw the first dead bodies of Germans, with their faces tumefied and their limbs rigid. They were lying in the most extraordinary positions. A Cuirassier was still holding on to a charger supplied with ammunition; farther on a Dragoon was lying face downwards, his leg bent backwards. Presently we reached the little farm which had been fought for all the day. The house was torn asunder by shells and the barn reduced to ashes. The pigs were loose and wandering round the ruin. As we advanced towards Haelen, the number of corpses increased. At the spot where the encounter between the riflemen had taken place, an almost continuous line of German and Belgian corpses showed what desperate fighting there had been. An officer of our 24th Line Regiment and a Dragoon officer were lying there, side by side. Which of the two had lived to see the other die? What drama was hidden under the contact of these two bodies? At Haelen, the drama was poignant. In most of the houses there were gaping holes and the walls were all knocked about. The street was covered with _debris_ of all kinds. Hundreds of horses were lying with their heads crushed, their bodies open, or their backs broken. A nauseous odour almost choked us. The courageous inhabitants had already buried the dead in huge graves, which they had dug near the village, and they were now beginning to take away the dead bodies of the horses.