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The other compartments were occupied by wounded Germans,
except one compartment, which was set aside for the captive French
lieutenant and two British subalterns. Top-Sergeant Rosenthal was in
charge of the train with headquarters aboard our coach. With him, as
aides, he had three Red Cross men.
The lighting apparatus of the car did not operate. On the ledge of our
window sat a small oil lamp, sending out a rich smell and a pale, puny
illumination. Just before we pulled out Rosenthal came and blew out the
lamp, leaving the wick to smoke abominably. He explained that he did
this for our own well-being. Belgian snipers just outside the town had
been firing into the passing trains, he said, and a light in a car
window was but an added temptation. He advised us that if shooting
started we should drop upon the floor. We assured him in chorus that we
would, and then after adding that we must not be surprised if the
Belgians derailed the train during the night he went away, leaving us
packed snugly in together in the dark.


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