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Sunday 26 May At 1800 I went down to the
French hospital (at Poperinghe)...Presently, we heard the sound of planes
high above us and suddenly, with an appalling shriek, a bomb fell by the
side of the ward, to be followed by another, and a third. At the first sound
of the falling bomb, I had seized my steel helmet and thrown myself down in
the middle of the room. The floor was covered with splinters of glass and
the air was filled with the screams of women, most of whom had one or more
cuts on the hands or faces....Stiles rushed in and said that Rene had been
hit. I ran to the entrance of the ward and found him lying in a pool of
blood with his brain protruding from the top of his head but still
breathing. I bandaged his head with my shell dressing and with the aid of a
very calm and pleasant nurse moved him into a side room.
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