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.
I am nearly frozen to-night and will have to go to bed.
October 9, 1916.
Our Bayard has come through the Courcelette fight safely, where the New Brunswickers did such wonders; but O! at such a terrible cost.
It has been very cold and rainy here. I am afraid the bad weather has set in.
Wish you would send me an aluminum hot water bottle for Christmas, another pair of Indian moccasins, and fill up the corners of the box with malted milk and maple sugar.
I shall never forget the poor little Breton who said when he saw me--as he roused a little when we were taking him from the ambulance, "maintenant je suis sauve" (Now I am saved).
I have just received a cheque from the Rothesay Red Cross. Since I began, my fund has never entirely given out, and I have been able to give such a lot of pleasure and comfort to the men.
If any one wants to know what to send me you might suggest Washington coffee like Lady T---- sent. It was a great success.
I am too cold to write any more, so good-night.
I wish I had some of Maggie's crullers and squash pie, but the French don't know anything about squash pies.
Our poor man with a broken back has been moved to a hospital near his home so his family can see him. We sent him on a mattress, fixed up with pillows and cushions so that he did not suffer at all on the journey.
When I have any one who is so ill as he was I bless the good people at home counting infirmiers and men that work about the hospital--they are soldiers who have been in the trenches for nearly two years, or been disabled through wounds or sickness, or exchanged prisoners from Germany unfit for military service. They call the hospital "le petit Paradis des blesses" and are so glad to be sent here. A man was brought in here the other day who was wounded for the second time, but he did not mind in the least about his wounds, he was so glad to get back. He is delighted because he will not be well enough to leave before Christmas.
We sent to England for some pop-corn, and to-day the men have been like a lot of happy children stringing the corn for the tree. They had never seen it before and were much interested. We made quite a successful popper out of a fly screen and a piece of wire netting.