_The Days Before the Great Day_
So the first summer with the American Expeditionary force in France
passed swiftly on.
For long hours during the day, and sometimes into the night, the
American soldiers were occupied in learning their final lessons in the
great war game which had been fought out in Europe for the past three
years.
Never did men work with greater energy or enthusiasm, or with more
impatience, knowing how greatly the Allies needed their aid and longing
to meet the test. The work was grilling and the strain of waiting
severest of all. Yet the greater number of the American boys met the
situation gallantly. Already the first divisions, who had arrived in
the early part of the summer in France, had broken all previous records
in military training.
It remains an historical fact that civilization has always moved
westward to test democracy, until the United States remained the last
county in which the right of human beings to govern themselves could
be proved, since there were no countries farther west. Moreover, it
appeared again as if in the great war that the United States had come
to be the last stronghold. For Europe alone had not been equal to
the fight against autocracy. Unless the United States could turn the
balance in favor of the Entente Allies, the cause of democracy might be
set back many hundreds of years.
This idea was in the mind of almost every American soldier in France,
although perhaps not expressed in these words. Yet each man and boy
understood that the United States not only expected him to do his duty
in the war, but to fulfil his own and his country’s ideal.
Yet naturally the life in the American camp in France was by no means
all plain sailing. Besides the obstacles one might have reasonably
expected, there was one thought which haunted the men and officers
alike.
Could it be possible that here in their midst and in spite of every
effort there might yet be a traitor?
In all the past we know there has been nothing of the same kind to
equal the German spy system. It would seem that after three years of
war, after the eternal vigilance of the nations, the last Teuton spy
would have been unearthed. Yet they have reminded one of the ancient
story of the giant who whenever he was thrown to earth, rose up again
the stronger.
Nevertheless, here in the American camp in France a spy could not well
be imagined. There were only the soldiers, the French people devoted to
their interests, the Red Cross nurses at their hospital. Now and then
an occasional outsider came on some business connected with the army
and went away again, but always his business and his history were well
known.
However, there was always the chance. The enemy would like to hear how
many American soldiers had arrived at the permanent camp, how many
more were to come later and at what moment they would enter the great
drive with their Allies. It was true that both the French and British
plans were being constantly transmitted to Germany before they could be
carried out.
Therefore the American soldiers were watchful, sometimes almost
suspicious, of one another.
But, beside this serious side of American camp life in France, there
was also a cheerful side.
The American soldiers were living among the race of people nearest akin
in nature to them. For no amount of adversity can make the French or
the Americans anything but valiant and pleasure loving.
Besides their work the American soldiers in France wished also to be
amused. If the entertainment of the soldiers in the camps all over the
United States was important, this was equally true in France.
Therefore it chanced that the American Red Cross girls, who were
stationed at the hospital nearest their own men, were called upon among
their first duties to help with other things than nursing.
Of course, if there had been many soldiers ill this would have been
impossible. But during the early weeks after the arrival of the
American Regulars, there were but few patients in Madame Castaigne’s
splendidly equipped hospital.
So the nurses were, of course, glad to do whatever was useful. But
rather to her old friends’ surprise, Barbara Thornton seemed to develop
such an intense interest in the amusement of the soldiers that it was
difficult to know whether she was making the effort more to entertain
herself than them.
However, no one at the present time really understood Barbara
Thornton’s character. Marriage had changed her as it does most people.
And it was not until a number of things had taken place that Barbara
began even faintly to understand herself.
Upon her arrival at the hospital, instead of continuing her former
intimacy with Eugenia, with Mildred and with Nona, the other three of
the four original Red Cross girls, Barbara developed an unexpected
intimacy with Mollie Drew and with Agatha Burton. Yet one could hardly
say, truthfully, that Mollie and Barbara were intimate with Agatha. If
one watched closely enough it was merely that they appeared to find her
useful to them. Neither girl would have agreed to this. However, they
had not at first liked her, and something in her quiet, unobtrusive
personality must have had its influence.
In spite of the fact that Eugenia, Mildred and Nona were all aware of
Barbara’s attitude, at the beginning they did not discuss the matter.
Eugenia, who would have been apt to influence the younger girl, had she
spoken to her, was only vaguely conscious of what was taking place. For
naturally, Eugenia was absorbed in her duties as the superintendent of
the new American hospital and wished to be absorbed in them until she
had neither time nor strength for anything else. For if Eugenia were
intensely occupied she was not so apt to be haunted by the thought of
the possible fate of her husband. What could have become of him? There
were many times when Eugenia believed that if she could only hear he
were dead, she would be satisfied, even comparatively happy. There were
so many other women learning to bear this burden. But the uncertainty
was torture.
Nevertheless, Eugenia would not betray herself by revealing her
unhappiness, believing that one of the first duties of war nursing is
to put one’s personal sorrows out of one’s mind. Yet now and then a
letter arriving from a friend, or from some person in authority who
was endeavoring to discover what fate had befallen Captain Castaigne,
Eugenia would sometimes be led to hope and then, at other times, to
feel an even deeper despair.
So it was small wonder that, so long as Barbara and the other nurses
did whatever was needed of them in the hospital and kept well, Eugenia
was glad to know they were being helpful and also entertaining the
soldiers until the time of their greater service. Certainly she would
never have dreamed of feeling concerned over what any one of the
original Red Cross girls might do. Eugenia believed she loved and
understood them too completely.
There were other and different reasons why Mildred Thornton would not
criticise her sister-in-law. In the first place, Mildred was reserved
and not critical and was also occupied with her own experiences.
Moreover, the very fact of being a sister-in-law made her too loyal
both to Barbara and to Dick to think of resenting Barbara’s present
behavior.
Therefore it was left to Nona Davis, as the only one of the four old
friends to puzzle over and not altogether to approve of one of their
original group. But this may have been partly due to the fact that Nona
felt a little on the outside and was frequently lonely for Sonya during
the first few weeks of this second coming to France to continue her Red
Cross nursing.
Yet, whatever defense one might make, or whatever excuse be given,
there was little doubt that Barbara was behaving strangely. Nor was it
heir friendship with Mollie Drew nor with Agatha Burton which excited
Nona’s unexpressed criticism. Nona herself had worked with Mollie and
Agatha in Italy and had liked them fairly well. It was she who had
introduced them to Barbara. But it looked at present as if Barbara
Thornton were only using the friendship of the two comparatively
unknown girls to further her own plans.
For, the slight acquaintance with young Lieutenant Hugh Kelley, which
Barbara had started in idle fashion on board the train bringing them
both through France, had apparently developed into a real interest.
This was rather extraordinary in view of the fact that Barbara was
married to Richard Thornton and was supposedly utterly devoted to him.
Moreover, she had a baby and yet was behaving as if she were a girl
again.
Sometimes Nona wondered if Barbara had ever explained to Lieutenant
Kelley that she was Mrs. Thornton, not Miss Thornton. He had received
this impression upon their first meeting and Barbara did appear so
absurdly childish. However, it was just as well Nona had never felt at
liberty to inquire, for as a matter of fact Barbara had deliberately
continued the false impression, persuading Mollie and Agatha to assist
her. At first the misunderstanding had struck her as amusing, later she
had concluded that it would do no possible harm to go on with it, as a
new friendship would keep her from being so lonely and unhappy over her
separation from Dick.
As for Lieutenant Kelley, she really did not consider him, only she
knew, of course, he was the type of man who always enjoyed a mild
flirtation. And Mollie and Agatha made particularly agreeable friends
at present, because they were comparative strangers and therefore would
not criticise her, and also because they were interested in two of the
American soldiers.
Mollie and Guy Ellis who had met in such an absurd fashion, had
developed a surprising interest in each other for so short an
acquaintance. But then these were war times and they were both in a
foreign land.
It also turned out that Agatha Burton had a friend among the American
soldiers encamped in the village close to Eugenia’s hospital. This
may have influenced her coming abroad to nurse, since the friendship,
Agatha declared, was an old one. The soldier, whose name was Charles
Anderson, was not prepossessing in appearance. He was small and
squarely built and had rather a sullen manner. But then Agatha was not
the type of girl who would attract many people. She was too quiet and
unobtrusive.
However, the three girls discovered another bond. The three young men
in whom they were interested were musical.
If Lieutenant Kelley had to preserve discipline as an officer at other
times, the three men could meet on a more common ground with their
music. Then Mollie Drew had an attractive voice and a gift for singing
old Irish ballads which the solders especially loved.
And in the long twilights of those first summer evenings in France,
music played a more important part in some of the boys’ lives than they
ever believed possible.
Barbara could not sing, was not musical in the least, but she did
develop an unexpected executive ability, for it was she who arranged
the weekly concerts at the little French Casino near the edge of the
village.
She also made friends with Berthe Bonnèt, who had been studying at
the _Conservatoire_ in Paris before the beginning of the war. Now all
of Madame Bonnèt’s, all of Berthe’s time and strength was given to
the service of the American soldiers. If Berthe could do for them one
thing more, she was happy while Bonnèt had become _La Mère_ to half the
American soldiers in her one-time quiet old French village.
Therefore Barbara found many reasons, whenever she was free from her
hospital work, for spending many hours in Madame’s old garden.
If Nona thought of this as a convenient place for Barbara to see
Lieutenant Kelley, who was quartered with Madame, she could not, of
course, mention it. Moreover, Barbara seldom left the hospital unless
either Agatha or Mollie were with her.
Moreover, Nona’s own spare time from her Red Cross nursing was being
given to acting as interpreter. She had a small class of American and
French soldiers whom she was teaching to understand each other and
found the task extremely amusing.