Finally one of the men who was fond of dogs and had a trick dog at home taught Pep to growl at the mention of the Boche, and this accomplishment greatly pleased the soldiers.
Every two or three days the activities at the hospital would be doubled and then Pep would often hear the word battle. That meant that the number of ambulances arriving that day would be greatly increased. At such times he was always out in the great quadrangle before the main building watching the ambulances come and go, and the nurses and doctors unload the wounded men. It was a serious time. No one laughed or joked here as they did in the dispensary. At such times his master would not even notice him when he rubbed against his leg to attract his attention.
Pep slept on his fine rug under the table in the dispensary. Some one was always on duty, and nurses were coming and going all night. In fact, the hospital was almost as busy during the night as it was in the day time.
One night when he had been there about three weeks he was awakened by the most terrible thunderstorm that he had ever heard, or at least that was what he thought it. The thunder claps came one after another in quick succession. Only they were much more staccato than thunder, more like giant firecrackers. Nurses and doctors were hurrying to and fro, and the orderly hospital was turned into pandemonium.
Pep came hurriedly out of his place of hiding under the table to discover what was the matter, and soon heard the word Boche. Every one was so angry that he decided the Boche must have something to do with the thunderstorm, but just what he could not imagine.
He was trotting about after the captain growling softly to himself when a thunderbolt much louder than the rest exploded right in their midst. Pep heard the sound of breaking glass all about him. Some of the pieces stuck in his skin and the air was filled with a pungent liquid that drenched Pep’s back.
He growled savagely, but his growls changed to yelps when the liquid began eating into his skin. With yelps of pain he fled from the dispensary, out into the open air. This did not help much, however, as the liquid still burned fiercely. All was excitement outside. The thunder had ceased but broken glass was everywhere, while in many places there were bricks and timbers and splintered boards thrown about in every direction.
Finally an orderly noticed Pep’s distress and examined him. He brought ointment and rubbed the dog’s back till the burning almost ceased. But in the morning it was seen that he had lost a large patch of hair just back of his shoulders. This was his first wound at the hands of the Boche, but not his last.
The terrible thunderstorm which Pep had been through was a Boche bombing expedition which had the base hospital as its mark.
So Pep learned that there were devils in the deep and devils in the sky, and he knew from what was said about them that they were all Boches.