When I was getting fixed up at the dressing station--I had a hard time
as the wounded men were swarming everywhere--I saw two women in the
station carrying baskets and speaking to the soldiers. They seemed to be
peasant women, but spoke very good English. They left after some little
time and wended their way up the road; but something in their appearance
directed attention to them and they were watched! After they had gone a
little bit up the road one of them was seen to open her basket and let a
pigeon go. They were at once arrested, handed over to the French police
and taken to Ypres.
The work of the gendarmerie was unexcelled; they were everywhere they
were needed; had it not been for their lightning-like acumen and prompt
service, the Lord only knows what would have become of us poor
Britishers in that country, as we were practically at the mercy of the
spies, not knowing who was who.
The two women were taken to Ypres and were treated to their deserved
fate--shot. But the pigeon did its work. Within an hour after their
arrest the hospital was shelled; it was packed with patients and in one
of the wards one of those flying ministers of death exploded, leaving
not a single living man.
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