On Thursday Fort Waelhem succumbed after a magnificent resistance.  The garrison held it until it was a mere heap of ruins, and, indeed, they had the greatest difficulty in making their way out.  I think that there is very little doubt that the Germans were using against these forts their largest guns, the great 42-centimetre howitzers.  It is known that two of these were brought northwards past Brussels after the fall of Maubeuge, and a fragment which was given to us was almost conclusive.  It was brought to us one morning as an offering by a grateful patient, and it came from the neighbourhood of Fort Waelhem.  It was a mass of polished steel two feet long, a foot wide, and three inches thick, and it weighed about fifty pounds.  It was very irregular in shape, with edges sharp as razors, without a particle of rust upon it.  It had been picked up where it fell still hot, and it was by far the finest fragment of shell I have ever seen.  Alas we had to leave it behind, and it lies buried in a back-garden beside our hospital.  Some day it will be dug up, and will be exhibited as conclusive evidence that the Germans did use their big guns in shelling the town.

The destruction produced by such a shell is almost past belief.  I have seen a large house struck by a single shell of a much smaller size than this, and it simply crumpled up like a pack of cards.  As a house it disappeared, and all that was left was a heap of bricks and mortar.  When one considers that these guns have a range of some ten miles, giving Mont Blanc considerable clearance on the way, and that one of them out at Harrow could drop shells neatly into Charing Cross, some idea of their power can be obtained.

Every day we had visits from the enemy’s aeroplanes, dropping bombs or literature, or merely giving the range of hospitals and other suitable objectives to the German gunners.  From the roof of the hospital one could get a magnificent view of their evolutions, and a few kindred spirits always made a rush for a door on to the roof, the secret of which was carefully preserved, as the accommodation was limited.  It was a very pretty sight to watch the Taube soaring overhead, followed by the puffs of smoke from the explosion of shells fired from the forts.  The puffs would come nearer and nearer as the gunners found the range, until one felt that the next must bring the Taube down.  Then suddenly the airman would turn his machine off in another direction, and the shells would fall wider than ever.  One’s feelings were torn between admiration for the airman’s daring and an unholy desire to see him fall.