I am sure you must have been officially notified by the U.S.
War Dept. of the death of your son, Lieut. Eugene H. Baldwin. But I
want to write you what I can of his last hours. I was with him much of
that time as his nurse. I'm sure it must mean much to a mother to hear
from a woman who was privileged to be with her boy at the last.
Your son was brought to our hospital one night badly gassed
from the fighting in the Argonne Forest. Ordinarily we do not receive
gassed patients, as they are sent to a special hospital near here. But
two nights before, the Germans wrecked that hospital, so many gassed
patients have come to us.
Your son was put in the officers' ward, where the doctors who
examined him told me there was absolutely no hope for him, as he had
inhaled so much gas that it was only a matter of a few hours. I could
scarcely believe that a man so big and strong as he was could not pull
through.
The first bad attack he had, losing his breath and nearly
choking, rather frightened him, although the doctor and I were both
with him. He held my hand tightly in his, begging me not to leave him,
and repeating, over and over, that it was good to have a woman near.
He was propped high in bed and put his head on my shoulder while I
fanned him until he breathed more easily. I stayed with him all that
night, though I was not on duty. You see, his eyes also were badly
burned. But before he died he was able to see very well. I stayed
with him every minute of that night and have never seen a finer
character than he showed during all that fight for life.
He had several bad attacks that night and came through each one
simply because of his great will power and fighting spirit. After each
attack he would grip my hand and say, "Well, we made it that time,
didn't we, nurse?" Toward morning he asked me if he was going to die.
I could not tell him the truth. He needed all his strength. I told
him he had one chance in a thousand. He seemed to become very strong
then, and sitting bolt upright in bed, he said: "Then I'll fight for
it!" We kept him alive for three days, and actually thought we had won
when on the third day...
But even in your sorrow you must be very proud to have been the
mother of such a son....
I am a Wisconsin girl--Madison. When this is over and I come
home, will you let me see you so that I may tell you more than I can
possibly write?