MOBILE NO. 1, France, June 20, 1916.
To-day I went over to Poperinghe to look up Margaret H----. She is in
charge of the Canadian clearing hospital and is doing a wonderful work.
They have been getting all the wounded from this last fight--receive one
day, evacuate the next, and the third day clean up and get ready again.
It is wonderfully organized; the trains come right up to the hospital
and there is a nurse for each car, so the patients are well looked
after. Margaret has been mentioned in despatches, I believe. I am so
glad, for she certainly deserves it.
June 25, 1916.
I went over for Margaret H---- in the motor. She went with me to the
cemetery near the hospital and I put some roses on the grave of one of
our St. John boys. I wish his mother could see how well cared for it is.
Margaret came back to tea with us.
To-day I have been specializing a man who has developed tetanus. I would
almost wish that he would die, for he has no hands, and has a great hole
in his chest and back, but strange to say he wants to live, is so
patient and so full of courage. When I have cases like this one I am
always so grateful to the people who have helped me in my work. If they
could see the comforts that can be given by a bottle of cologne or a
dozen oranges they would be rewarded.
Our medicine chef was a prisoner in Germany for eleven months. The
things that he tells us makes one's blood boil. One cannot imagine human
beings as brutal as the Germans are. When they came into the town where
he had his hospital, they shot all the wounded that were left and eight
of his orderlies who stayed with him. He expected to be shot also, but
they needed his services so took him prisoner.
July 16, 1916.
Another rainy day and as cold as the dickens but we are glad to get
through the summer without extreme heat or a pest of flies.
My tetanus case is really getting better.
Last week I went to a concert given at R---- for the soldiers who are
resting. It was one of the nicest I have ever been at. I did not want to
go, for I don't feel like any kind of gaiety, but Mrs. T---- insisted.
There were only three ladies present, the rest of the salle was filled
with soldiers just from the trenches. The concert was held in a stable.
Some English and Canadian officers, who are on construction work near
here, have been coming to see us. One is Major H----, who was on the
Courtenay Bay work at St. John.
July 29, 1916.
We are nearly eaten up with the mosquitoes so I have been to Dunkirk to
get some mosquito netting.
Mrs. T---- gave a grand concert to the men on the anniversary of the
opening of this hospital. Denries, from the Opera Comique in Paris, and
Madame Croiza, from the opera in Paris, sang. The Prince of Teck was
here and in my ward, he was so nice to the patients. We had French,
English and Belgian generals, colonels and officers of various kinds.
NO. 3 CANADIAN CASUALTY STATION,
July 31, 1916.
I got twenty-four hours permission and came out here to spend the night
with nursing Sister Margaret Hare, hoping to get some news of B----. I
have found out where he is and that he has been on rest and went back to
the trenches to-day. They are usually on duty eight days and off eight,
so Margaret is going to send him word when he next comes off to come
here and I will come over and meet him. I do hope we will be able to
make connection. It is so hard to be so near and yet not be able to see
him. If he is wounded he will have to pass through No. 10 Clearing
Station, which is right next to this. I have left my name and address at
the office, so if he should be brought in they will telephone to me and
I can get over to him in half an hour. The patients here are so well
taken care of. They have had a light day. I helped her a little in the
dressing room this morning, saw some of the men who had come in last
night, saw three operations. There is a very clever English surgeon here
and several McGill men. It is a scorching hot day.
My tetanus patient is quite cured, is beginning to walk about.
MOBILE NO. 1, August 14, 1916.
We have had a strenuous and exciting week. It began with a visit from
the King of the Belgians, who came to decorate three of my men who had
fought in the trenches with conspicuous bravery. He visited all the
wards and talked with the soldiers. Like all the royalty I have met so
far, he is extraordinarily simple--wore no decorations or distinguishing
marks of any kind. We were all presented to him in turn and shook hands
with him.
[Illustration: Nurse and Nephew. The meeting in France, one serving
with the French, the other with the Canadian B. E. F.]
The next day we got twenty gas cases and several badly wounded men--one
Canadian from Ontario and two English boys, one was a policeman in
London. I asked the Ontario man how he happened to get to our Ambulance,
he said, "he'd be blessed if he knew," he was working on the lines which
run right up to the trenches when the warning for gas was given. He
started to put on his helmet and the next thing he knew he was in a "Red
Cross" ambulance on the way to the hospital. He is getting on splendidly
but we lost four of the gas cases. It is the worst thing I have seen
yet, much worse than the wounded, and the nursing is awfully hard, for
they cannot be left a moment until they are out of danger.
August 28, 1916.
I have met our boy B---- at his rest camp not very far from here. It was
a joy to find him looking so well, and big and brown.
September 9, 1916.
Rain, continuous rain. The guns have been roaring without any let-up for
three days and nights, and our little barracks are nearly shaken to
pieces. We have had several warnings of gas attacks, but fortunately
nothing has happened. One of the orderlies kept his mask on all night
and everyone was surprised that he was alive next morning, they are the
most awful smelling things you can imagine.
We have never seen so many aeroplanes as during this past week. This
morning we counted eighteen in a row.
Mrs. T---- is going to organize another hospital on the Somme and is
going to keep this one as well. She certainly has done a splendid work.
We are all hoping that the fighting will be over before Christmas.
October 1, 1916.
The rain has begun, so I suppose we may expect to be under water for the
rest of the winter, but things are going well for us, so we must hope
on; but O! how dreadful it all is.
A stationary balloon that is not far from here, used as a Belgian
observation post, was struck by a bomb from an aeroplane and we saw it
fall in flames. The men who were in it jumped out with parachutes and
both escaped without injury.
Broterl, the famous French sniper and poet, came the other day to sing
for the soldiers. He is wonderful, and sang all sorts of songs that he
had composed in the trenches. The men were enchanted, it does such a lot
of good, for it makes them forget for a time.
One of our orderlies has just got word that one of his brothers has been
killed at the Somme, another is dangerously wounded in the head, and a
third has lost his leg--he has six brothers, all at the front.
One of the men in my ward got word of the death of his brother also. He
was a stretcher bearer and was helping a German officer who was
wounded. As soon as the German got to a place of safety he shot the poor
man who had been helping him.