steaming vats in which possibly a dozen men lathered themselves
at once. Here was fighting humanity; you could see it in every
gesture. The bathers, indeed, appeared to be more numerous than
they in fact were. Two hundred and fifty could undress, bathe, and
re-clothe themselves in an hour, and twelve hundred in a morning.
Each man of course would be free to take as many unofficial baths,
in tin receptacles and so on, as he could privately arrange for and
as he felt inclined for. Companies of dirty men marching to the
baths, and companies of conceitedly clean men marching from the
baths, helped to strengthen the ever-growing suspicion that a great
Army must be hidden somewhere in the neighbourhood.

Nevertheless, I still saw not the ultimate destination of all those
streams of supply which I have described.

I had, however, noted a stream in the contrary direction--that is,
westwards and southwards towards the Channel and England. You
can first trace the beginnings of this stream under the sound of the
guns (which you never see). A stretcher brought to a temporary
shelter by men whose other profession is to play regimental music;
a group of men bending over a form in the shelter; a glimpse of
dressings and the appliances necessary for tying up an artery or
some other absolutely urgent job. That shelter is called the Aid Post.
From it the horizontal form goes to (2) the Advanced Dressing
Station, where more attention is given to it; and thence to (3) the
Field Ambulance proper, where the case is really diagnosed and
provisionally classed. By this time motor-ambulances have been
much used; and the stream, which was a trickle at the Aid Post,
has grown wider. The next point (4) is the Casualty Clearing Station.
Casualty Clearing Stations are imposing affairs. Not until the