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.”