Greatly to Derek's surprise he found a nurse, several orderlies, and an ambulance waiting for him.
"But I can walk quite all right," protested the patient.
"No doubt," was the reply, "but you must go in the ambulance; it's routine."
Nor did "routine" end there, for on arriving at the hospital Daventry was peremptorily ordered to go to bed at five in the evening.
"It's routine," explained the nurse. "The doctor will have to take your temperature."
"Surely he can do that without sending me to bed," said Derek resentfully.
The nurse shrugged her shoulders.
"I didn't frame the regulations," she replied. "I'm afraid there's no help for it; to bed you must go."
Followed a not altogether congenial fortnight. The compound fracture healed rapidly; no complications ensued; yet Derek had to exist under restraint, and subjected to the too rigorous rules and regulations of the hospital.
There were eleven other wounded officers in the ward, all bored stiff with things in general, and the hospital in particular. The only diversion, and one that they thoroughly enjoyed, was listening to the lurid and incoherent remarks of their fellow patients whenever they were "coming to" after an operation. It was one of those few occasions when a patient could "speak his mind", even though he were in a semi-conscious state, and invariably the hospital staff came in for a considerable amount of "strafing", to the huge delight of the rest of the ward.