I said to him, "Where? where?" and he placed a hand to
his stomach.
The man had been struck just below the ribs by a large piece of bomb,
blood was welling from the wound, so I pushed his shirt into it, and ran
back to the office. Mrs. Stobart's car had been brought by a lady and a
youth named Boon, who had both taken cover in the cellar; so I dug up
the girl, whose name I have forgotten, as I hoped she knew "first aid."
Together we ran to the man, leaving Boon to bring the ambulance.
"Bandages," we demanded. "Haven't any," answered the few Serbs who had
gathered round; "the first aid house has been blown to pieces." We
crammed our handkerchiefs into the place, and a cotton-wool arm pad
which was brought, and we then took off the man's own puttees and tied
him up with them. As we were doing this somebody cried--
"Aeroplanes returning."
Immediately every Serb and Austrian fled. The girl, Hardinge, and I were
left alone. It was a false alarm. With the returning crowd came a large
man, who was weeping.
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