1914 – August 31

Ward and I searched around and at last found our servants and kits. It takes 3 trains a day to feed our small army. My servant is trooper Barnes of the 20th Hussars. He sleeps in my truck and has the most awful night-mares when he yells and strangles imaginary Germans. Got rid of my horse, handed back to remount. A wounded British soldier with arm shattered lying on ambulance. French lady comes up, empties her purse on him (unconscious) and kneels down to kiss his hands.

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