You know, we just kept on.
We had to get going and we had vague
reference of where we assembled and so on.
But anyway, I eventually got to the assembly
point and then the major said,
“We’re taking you up to our casualty
clearing station in Basly.”
And up we drove and because
I had a little clerical experience at the moment,
I had to keep record of the casualties.
But in between that time there was
different things happening, you know.
You were patching up guys and whatnot.
I have a picture of a chap in here and
he thanked me for looking after him.
I said, “I don’t remember you.”
He said, “I remember you!”
So the reason being that he probably
remembered me is that they published a
picture of me as a 19 year old.
He only had that face to remember.
And so if he remembered me fine,
anyway I said you’re alive,
still you’re surviving wonderful and we hugged and
we shed a little tear.
Apparently he lost his leg, that chap,
had it blown off either by a mortar or
maybe a mine or a shell.
It’s terrible. It’s a horrible thing to see
what high explosives can do to a human body.
One minute they are going along like a
full individual and the next minute they
could be blown to bits or down with an arm or
a leg blown off or a very bad chest wound
and what not.