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"We have plenty of biscuits," said the sergeant, "and coffee, too. You
are welcome to all you can carry, but I don't see how we can do any more
for you. But would you like to see the officer in charge, sir?"
"Thank you," said Barry, and together they passed into another room.
But the officer was engaged elsewhere. While they were discussing the
matter, a door opened, and a young girl dressed in the uniform of a V.
A. D. (Voluntary Aid Detachment) appeared.
"What is it, sergeant?" she inquired, in a soft but rather tired voice.
The sergeant explained, while she listened with mild interest. Then
Barry took up the tale, and proceeded to dilate upon the wretched
condition of his comrades, out in the icy rain. But his story moved
the V. A. D. not at all. She had seen too much of the real misery and
horrors of war. Barry began to feel discouraged, and indeed a little
ashamed of himself.
"You see, we have just come over," he said in an apologetic tone, "and
we don't know much about war yet.


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