Dr. Mary Merritt Crawford, who in 1907 became widely known as
Brooklyn's first woman ambulance surgeon, and who has established
for herself since that time an enviable reputation in the
medical profession, served in the American Ambulance Hospital at
Neuilly-Sur-Seine under Dr. du Bouchet and Dr. Joseph Blake. Her
letters recounting her experiences among the wounded describe in the
most graphic manner the terrible nature of the wounds inflicted in
modern warfare.
She writes:
"We have been getting so many men with frozen feet from the
trenches. They have had much snow near Ypres, they say, and the cold
is terrible. Last night one poor Frenchman, who had been in the
trenches for several weeks before he was wounded, was told he would
be sent away to-morrow. His regiment is still up north and he would
be sent there. He went almost mad with despair and tried to kill
himself. This is the only case I've come directly in contact with,
although I've heard of others. I wonder there aren't more. Most of
the little 'piou-pious' take it with wonderful stoicism. It is fate,
and they accept it, but no one wants to go back to trench fighting.
I don't blame them for anything they do. Human flesh and blood
cannot stand it beyond a certain point."
* * * * *
"Two days ago we had a poor wretch admitted, who had, by actual
count, 150 shrapnel wounds on him. You never saw anything so ghastly
as he was. The shell had burst so close that all his hair was
singed, and he was literally peppered with pieces of shell. He died
to-night and I couldn't help but be glad a little, for his suffering
would have been so awful and long-drawn out had he lived.
"To-day I'm dismissing one of my little zou-zous (Zouaves). He gave
me one of his buttons as a souvenir, and when I gave him 2 francs
he wouldn't take it until I told him to keep it as a souvenir, not
as money. Then he did finally consent. He had to go out in the same
dirty uniform, all blood-stained and with the bullet hole in his
coat. The French Government is making the gray-blue clothes as fast
as possible. I've seen a number when walking in Paris. They are the
same cut as before, not as trim and compact as our service clothes,
but the men inside are splendid, and as patients, ideal."
* * * * *
_A Dog That Saved His Master._
"I must write you just one story that came to me at the ambulance
just before Christmas, even though it is a little late. We had
a French soldier brought in frightfully wounded. He came from
the region around St. Mihiel. One leg had to be amputated, and,
besides that, he had half a dozen other wounds. His dog came with
him--hunting dog of some kind. This dog had saved his master's life.
They were in the trenches together, when a shell burst in such a
way as to collapse the whole trench. Every one in it was killed or
buried in the collapse, and this dog dug and dug until he got his
master's face free, so that he could breathe, and then he sat by him
until some reinforcements came and dug them all out. Every one was
dead but this man. We have both the dog and the man with us. The dog
has a little house all to himself in the court, and he has blankets
and lots of petting, and every day he is allowed to be with his
master for a little while."
* * * * *
"I am very tired to-night. For some time now I've had charge of
the dental cases, in addition to my regular work. Just now I have
nine of them. They are the men who have fractures of the upper or
lower jaws besides other wounds. The American dentists here are
doing wonderful work--some of the most brilliant that is done in
any department. Such deformities you never saw. The whole front of
one man's face is gone, and how we are going to build him a new one
I don't see, but as soon as he is ready we'll begin grafting and
plastic work generally. One of these men is a black boy, the saddest
figure in the whole hospital to me. His identification tag was lost
in transit. He doesn't read or write or speak a word of French and
none of our Senegalesi, Moroccans, Algerians, or Tunisians can
talk to him. He is utterly alone and lost. In the course of time
the Government will place him, but it will be a long process. His
wound is ghastly. The bullet hit his front teeth, but as his lips
must have been drawn back in a snarl or laugh at the time, no wound
appears there. The whole of his left upper and lower teeth were
blown out, upper and lower jaw fractured and literally his whole
left cheek blown away. You can put your fingers right into his mouth
from just in front of his ear and see the inner side of his lips. It
is awful taking care of him, but he is as patient as some poor dog
who knows you are trying to help him.
* * * * *
"Next week I am going to have all my jaw cases photographed
together. Their deformities are frightful, but they are cheery. One
man whose whole front face is almost gone is now radiant. You see
he couldn't smoke because he couldn't suck in the air, having no
upper teeth or lip. Well, the dentists built him a kind of 'false
front' of soft rubber, and now he is 'très gentil,' as he says,
and can smoke nicely. My poor black boy is much better. Dr. Blake
did a marvelous operation on his face and closed in most of the
gap. Suddenly to-day we discovered he was talking French. Before
he wouldn't say a word--couldn't, poor fellow!--and seemed not to
understand. He says his name is Hramess ben something or other.
Also he says that he fought for three days with that ghastly,
blown-to-pieces face, and didn't give up until he got the bullet in
his back. Did I tell you we got the bullet out, and he has it as a
souvenir? He nearly died of mortification because we had thought he
was a Senegalesi--he is so dark. He says he is an Algerian, and has
told us his regiment.
[Illustration: