The daily Gate City. [volume] (Keokuk, Iowa) 1855-1916, 1915-12-03

[By Wilbur S. Forrest, United Press
Staff Correspondent s
LONDON. Oct 15.-CBy mail)-
This is precisely what happens to
Tommy from the moment he Is
wounded at the Flanders front until
he reaches the final convalescing des-
tination.
The soldier relating the experiences
was selected at random from thou
sands of wounded arrived in London
since the big drive began. Any other
Tommy would have told practically
the same story.
1.-THE morning of September g." he
said. 81 arrived at the dressing sta
ton among heaps Of bricks, stones,
woodwork and gas pipe. 1t had been
a town in Flanders. l could no longer
be counted In the fighting force. /
was handed over to the Royal Army
medical corps until 1t could send me
before medical board, healthy and
fit to take my place on the firing line.
away up there on the firing line
my wounds had been iodined, dressed
and bandaged by a firSt-rate doctor,
and even at that early stage in the
proceedings full particulars hau beep
taken; name, rank, regiment and all
ments.
station was filling up. 1t never got
full, though, for the wounded are
shipped out as fast as received and
dressed. was carried through the
wreck of a big public building. In
the passages, with their backs against
the walls, sat long lines of wounded
men, all bandaged up. The white ban.
dages contrasted sharply with the
filth of battle everywhere on faces
and uniforms. An orderly was hand
ing tea from black tray.
II was just about to have a cup
when l was hurried away. 1t Is the
only complaint ] have to make; the
worth of that cup Of tea could not be
counted in pounds, shillings and
pence. In Difference to the possible
future explosive attentions of the enc
my we descended to a large cellar
Here were dozen busy doctors
| and several chaplains. The chaplains
cheered US up while the doctors cut
US up. Large tables in the middle Of
| the cellar, ranged around the walls,
were piled with bandages, cotton,
wool, instruments, bottles and other
stuff. In next to no time my wounds
were dressed, aAlarge squirt full Of
liquid was shotF1nto me and tied to
the bottom of my left breast pocket
was a label bearing the legend:
"Shrapnel, abdominal wall.-A. T. s."
the last standing for the anti-te-
tanus serum, wherefor the syringe.
II was led to another cellar where
kindly chaplain offered me cigar
cite. The first thing a wounded Off
Ger or man says when he is brought,
often literally more dead than alive,
to regimental aid post, is: Anybody
got cigarette?'
1.-The cigarette I smoked was not
the usual affair made of paper and
hay; 1t was like sea breeze scented
with heather. -... ..
II was soon whirling away in a com.
Portable ambulance car along the
road l knew SO well, the main artery
to the trenches in this part OF the
line. At my side was my belt and
revolver. duly labeled, the only ar
ticles of personal luggage I had.
"In time we arrived at q comm obi
Gus hospital camp, where, though that
ceaseless booming Of the gul-s would
still be heard, a shell was the excep-
ton rather than the rule. was laid
on a stretcher bed and surgeon,
helped by a real nurse, probed once
moro and dressed my wounds.
II fell asleep to be awakened by
an orderly who gave me soup and
fish. had had nothing to eat for two
days that could be called meal, and