For seven hours, with little intermission, the German airmen bombed a
camp not a hundred miles from Etaples. Of the handful of Q.M.A.A.C.s
stationed there, one was an eighteen-year-old middle-class girl,
high-strung, sensitive, not long finished with her convent school.
Another was Kitty, a Cockney girl of twenty, by occupation a
machine-hand, by vocation (missed) a comédienne, and, by heaven, a
heroine.
The high courage of the younger girl was cracking under the strain
of that ordeal by bombs. Kitty saw how it was with her, and for five
long hours she gave a recital of song, dialogue, and dance--most of it
improvised--while the bombs fell and the anti-aircraft guns screamed.
In all probability she saved the younger girl's reason.
When the last raider had dropped the last bomb, Kitty sank down, all
but exhausted, and for long cried and laughed hysterically. Hers was
not the least heroic part played upon that night.--_H. N., London, E._