I heard a cry from an empty house, and when I went in I found a baby,
about eleven months old, lying crying in its nightgown. I brought the
youngster out. It was raining in torrents at the time, and I carried
it about five and a half miles. It was crying all the way, and I tried
to conceal it from our sergeant, but eventually he said I should be
obliged to put it down as we were going into action, so I laid it in
a hedge and covered it with some straw, hoping that someone would
soon find it and take care of it. It made me think of my own children:
_Bombdr. Stoddard, Royal Artillery_.