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"In the great bombardment now going on of Noyon by the French
endeavoring to drive out the enemy, the _faubourgs_ have suffered
greatly; that of d'Amiens, the boulevards and the Rue d'Oroire
particularly. The gas works and the depot are both destroyed, as well
as the military casernes. I have heard the officers say how much they
admire the French cannon, and the artillery corps. They frequently
repeat in our hearing the ancient 'blague'--the Germans and the French
should be friends--they will be sooner or later--they should unite for
the good of humanity and for the downfall of England!--From officer
to soldier this is the shibboleth. It does not ring true! Now and then
there are visits from princes and dignitaries, accompanied by tremendous
excitement and troops blazing with color, bands of music, and all
intended to impress and encourage the dusty, dirty troops of soldiers
who are continually coming from and going to the front, and lend a
factitious animation to the town. Each day the German 'Etat Major' sends
out the 'communiqués,' which are placarded all over town. The people of
Noyon who remain pay little attention to them.
"They do, however, study and commit to memory the rules of circulation.
For instance, it is dangerous for one to pass twice on any given day
in the same street; to stand talking with a friend without plausible
reason, or to go to the railway station or walk upon a public promenade
without permission. In the evening all are ordered to be in the house by
four o'clock. The town is plunged in inky darkness at night, for the gas
house and works are destroyed. Those who must have light use candles,
but the price of these has risen beyond all belief. All lights at night
are carefully hidden by blinds and heavy curtains, for at the least ray
of light seen by the German patrol, suspicion is cast upon the inmates,
and a 'crime' of this sort invariably brings arrest and a night in
confinement under guard at the 'post' or even the risk of being sent to
Germany. I have seen young and old, a priest and a sacristan thus sent
away.
"Often even a gesture misunderstood by a patrol results in the
banishment of the offender over the border into Germany.
"The Mayor of Noyon has carried on the difficult tasks entrusted to him
with great skill and remarkable courage. Many times his administrations
have placed him in grave danger, but so far he has not suffered for his
demands for justice towards his unfortunate fellow townsmen.
"Every Sunday mass is celebrated in the untouched part of the Cathedral.
A Protestant service also is given following it. The troops attend
in two detachments, and the sight of these two bodies at once in the
Cathedral is sufficiently curious, and certainly most unusual.
"In the afternoon the officers arrange a sort of concert, at which
artists who are unlucky enough to be here are expected to perform. These
are usually melancholy affairs.
"When the town was first occupied by the Germans, in September, 1914, it
was to the Cathedral that they sent their prisoners for confinement.
The inhabitants were ordered to bring provisions for them, but were
not allowed access to them. It was necessary to intrust the food they
brought to the sentinels, and no one knows whether the food reached the
poor prisoners or not.
"As for the Cathedral, I can say truly that the two great towers were
constantly used by the German soldiers as posts of observation. Our
glorious dead have been laid at rest at the foot of an immense cross
erected outside the town.
"The Germans have prepared for their dead a large 'fosse' in the middle
of a field. An armed picket guard assists at the interments of both
French and Germans, at which military honors are scrupulously observed
and given. These ceremonies, often under the heavy fire of the great
guns of the French, have made an impression upon me that I shall never
forget.
"The morning of the 17th of October, as I was engaged in renewing
the dressing of a lieutenant s wounds, two German policemen brusquely
entered, and called out 'Schwester Godfroy!'
"Hearing my name I turned and prepared to follow the two men, but these
rough men, deeming my movements not quick enough, seized me by the arms
and pushed me towards the stairs leading to my chamber. In the hallway
I perceived my companions, each grasped by a 'gendarme.' An officer and
five men pushed me with them into my chamber and locked the door; then
these men, with a brutality impossible here to describe, ransacked my
bed, ripped open the mattress and pillows, after which they turned the
contents of my valise out on the floor, threw my clothing about; even
breaking off the legs of my '_table de nuit_' to see if I had not
letters or papers hidden therein. I kept my temper, remaining quiet.
"Seeing me so calm seemed to render them furious at finding nothing
to incriminate me. My trunk in a corner of the room attracted their
attention, and they roughly ordered me to open it. I made them
understand that there was no key to it. One of them wrenched off the
lid with his saber, to discover that the trunk was empty. They then
questioned me minutely, after eyeing suspiciously several German
newspapers lying on the table.
"'You speak German, and you refuse to admit it; but do not mistake--you
and the others--we know you to be Belgians, and if you can get to Paris,
it is not for the purpose of caring for the wounded...'
"This seemed so foolish to me that I refused to answer.
"For at least ten minutes they bent over my poor papers, my little
souvenirs, and a piece of paper money which they examined minutely,
thinking to find state secrets, I suppose.
"Afterwards, when they returned my money, they kept five or six letters
which I had preserved and kept by me as dear relics, precious letters
from my mother and sisters... Their gross impoliteness made no outward
impression upon me, but the instant their attention was attracted from
me, and they turned their heads in another direction, I threw adroitly
in a corner of my valise, which remained open beside me, a small packet
which I carried in the waist of my dress. In this I had written a sort
of diary of my experiences since the beginning of the war, together with
accounts given me by wounded Frenchmen of their personal impressions
of the combats in which they had been wounded; a few sketches and such
matters, all innocent of any military value, but which, if found upon
me, would have but one quick result... I pushed the valise farther under
the table with a stealthy movement of my foot. The men then left the
room, shutting the door behind them. Almost instantly two horrible
'Schwestern' entered without knocking, and proceeded to undress me,
examining even the lining of my clothes for concealed papers--Of course
they found none. My companions suffered the same indignities at the
hands of these horrible creatures, who seemed to us more brutes than
women. When they had gone, and I was sure that no one observed, I again
concealed the packet of papers in the waist of my dress as before."
Of her further adventures I can give no more here. She was taken away
from Noyon shortly after the experience just related and sent to a
detention camp of Holzminden in Germany with her companion nurses. Her
experiences there were remarkable, and after serving with faithfulness
until the following April, she was sent to Rastadt, the fortress, from
which she obtained permission to leave, and return to Noyon by way of
Switzerland. She finishes by writing: "Now, after more than a year has
passed, I am once more in our dear little cottage, among those whom
I had thought and feared never to see again. Alas--the war continues.
Certainly I dreamed that war was very different from what I found it to
be, and if my health returns to me, as I hope, I shall resume my work.
I have seen the soldiers in the midst of battle at the front; I have
attended them in the ambulances with undreamed of wounds; I have
listened to and received their agonized confidences, and attended them
to the end. They are all heroes to me... I have known them in captivity,
famished for food, insulted, brutalized by their captors. Our brave
boys!
"Their courage, the grandeur of their souls, their indifference to pain
in the face of duty, imparts to me something of their courage which
inspires me.
"A country defended by such an army has no right to doubt final victory.
"(Signed) Leonie Godfroy."