THE CAPTIVES' HOMECOMING

An Impression, by a Night Nurse, of the Arrival of the first Convoy of Wounded Exchanged Prisoners from Germany.

We waited for them to come with a sense of expectation, a thrill that was very close to tears. Passing the gates of the hospital grounds we saw a tense crowd throbbing with pent-up sympathy. They were arriving. One felt, as we saw them in the cars, some of them such pitiful sights, that nothing in all the world would be enough to make up for those dreary months in a hostile country. They all wore roses, and most of them looked dazed as if incredulous of their good fortune. The other men in the ward waited them with their eyes on the door, the usual chaff silenced: no one quite had the heart for jesting. With the innate tact that comes with good feeling, they realized they were about to face suffering too great for any flippancy – that easy flippancy of ours which is one of the national weaknesses.

Every one was on the alert, and then came the sound of slow dragging steps, and from the door we watched their last brief painful journey to the ward. The came in, utterly weary but smiling, rather shy perhaps, too, at the sympathy shown, the warm welcome given. It was a relief to rush about over tea and boiled eggs and the taking of temperatures, thus keeping emotions at bay.

They lay in their beds still dazed, and every head in the ward was turned their way to wish them good-night. One of them lay crouching in bed with a hunted expression on his face that never left him even in sleep. Once he started up, crying out: “Don’t touch me!” Promptly reassured, he lay back again like a soothed child, and later was seen to sit up and say in a voice of intense relief: “It’s all right, boys; we’re safe.” Another one, deep in slumber, kept groaning at intervals. “Bonnie Scotland,” I heard him say once in a voice of extraordinary tenderness; a poor fellow with only one leg, dreaming of his home-coming.

It was a heart-breaking happiness to welcome them back, and those of us who were on duty that memorable night will never forget it.

D. Eardley-Wilmot