Helen Mackay, Journal of Small Things
“ It is strange how quiet the train of wounded is. It is only here and there along it that one hears moaning or a cry.A munition train crawls by, all grey. It is nothing that the permissionnaires or wounded need notice.Then, after a time, that seems very long, comes a troop-train going out. The men in the troop train hang out of the windows and look silently upon all the things they are passing in the fields, that seem so full of peace and so kind. ”
