Part 10

Ben Ali, the poor Arab who was so desperately wounded, was up to-day for the first time.

I have ordered six dozen pair of socks from Paris. My nice old English Colonel Noble (with the soup kitchen) is always clamoring for them. I think he saves lots of the men from having frozen feet. Madge S----'s wool is being made into socks by the women of the village.

December 26, 1915.

Christmas is over, and in spite of the under-current of sadness and the suffering the men had a very happy day. In my ward all but one were well enough to enjoy the tree, and they were like a lot of children with their stockings. Christmas Eve one of the orderlies who was on guard helped me decorate the ward and trim the tree, then we hung up their stockings. They had oranges, sweets and cigarettes and some small toys and puzzles and various things of that kind to amuse them.

I had a package for each one in the morning, and, thanks to my good friends at home, was able to give them some nice things. I had a pair of warm socks and gloves for each one, a writing pad and envelopes, pen, pencil, small comb in a case, tooth brush, tooth powder, piece of soap, wash cloth and a small alcohol lamp with solidified alcohol--a thing made especially for the trenches and which delighted them very much--also a small box of sweets, and to several of the very poor ones I gave a small purse with five francs in it. One poor boy said he had never had such a Christmas in his life; he is one of a family of seven, and says that in times of peace it was all they could do to get enough to eat.

Christmas day at four o'clock the tree was lighted, and one of the many priests who act as infirmiers here came round to the different wards and sang carols. He has a very beautiful voice and was much appreciated by the soldiers. Mrs. Turner then came in, followed by an orderly with a huge hamper containing a present for each man. They had a wonderful dinner, soup, raw oysters, (which came from Dunkirk by motor), plum pudding, etc. I could only give my men a bite of pudding to taste it, but they were able to eat the oysters and other things in moderation.

In the other wards, where there were only arms and legs and heads to consider, they had a royal feast. She also gave a grand dinner to all the infirmiers and men on the place--had a tree for them and a present for each one. We also had a good dinner and a present for each. She certainly went to a great deal of trouble and made many people happy.

The next day we divided the things on the trees and each man made a package to send home to his children. They were even more delighted to be able to do this than with their own things.

One poor man in my ward was so ill that I was afraid he would die, so I moved his bed to the end of the ward and put screens around it so that he would not be disturbed and that the others would not be disheartened by seeing him. He was so much better Christmas night that we had great hopes of saving him, but to-day he died. He was wounded in seven places and one hip was gone. The General came at four o'clock and decorated him. He roused up and saluted and seemed so pleased. In the evening the doctor came to do his dressing and he seemed much better. After the doctor had gone he turned to me and said, "That Major knows what he is about, he is a corker."

Ben Ali, my prize Arab, had a wonderful day. He ate too much and had to stay in bed to-day, but he has been wrapping and unwrapping his presents and having a fine time. He is just like a child, he is so pleased. He has taken a great fancy to me and asked me to visit him after the war is over.

We had midnight mass on Christmas eve for the infirmiers and personnel of the hospital. One of the empty wards was fitted up as a chapel and a Franciscan monk from Montreal officiated. He is on duty here in the lingerie, and is a splendid man. He is delicate, has some serious heart trouble, so that he need not stay, but he came over to do what he could for his country and his services are invaluable here. His mother was in the north of the country taken by the Germans and he has not been able to get any news of her for more than a year.

We have had orders from head-quarters to close all the shutters as soon as the lights are lit, so we feel as if we were shut up in packing cases.

There were a great many aeroplanes flying about to-day, so I suppose they are expecting an attack of some kind. It is blowing a gale to-night and I feel as if our little shanty would blow over.

January 1, 1916.

It is hard to believe that we are beginning another year. If only it will bring a lasting peace! The boxes have not turned up yet, but they doubtless will one of these days, and we will be all the more glad to see them because we have used up everything else.

I expected to go on night duty immediately after Christmas, but we had such sick people in my ward they did not want to make a change just then.

It is blowing a gale again to-night, and raining in torrents; it seems as if it would never stop raining. The roof of one of the wards was loosened the other night the wind was so strong, so the patients had to be all moved out while it was being mended. Our barracks had to be propped up also, all one side was loose and the rain came in in sheets. I frequently go to bed with an umbrella.

January 16, 1916.

We have had orders to evacuate all the men who are able to travel, so we got rid of a great many--eighteen went on Tuesday, twenty on Friday and nineteen more are to go next Tuesday.

The roof nearly blew off my ward last night, so my patients had to be moved into the next ward till it is mended. I am going to take advantage of it and have a thorough house cleaning.

Le Roux, the boy who has been here so long and who has been so terribly ill, died on Tuesday. I had great hopes of him up till the last day. Half an hour after he died the General came to decorate him. I hope they will send the medals to his people, it seems hard that they should have been just too late to give them to him. The next day I went to his funeral--the first soldier's funeral I have seen. I was impressed with the dignity and simplicity of it. The plain deal coffin was covered with a black pall, which had a white cross at the head, the French flag covered the foot and a bunch of purple violets, tied with red, white and blue ribbon, lay between. It was carried in one of the covered military carts. At three o'clock the little procession started for the cemetery. First came the priest in soldier's uniform, carrying a small wooden cross, on which was written Le Roux's name and the name of his regiment. One of this kind is always put at the head of each grave. Then came three soldiers with guns on their shoulders, then the car bearing the coffin, and on each side three soldiers with arms reversed; directly behind were two infirmiers and three soldiers with guns on their shoulders, we two nurses in our uniforms, then two officers and some more soldiers. As we went down the road to the little church in R---- we passed long lines of soldiers going somewhere, and everyone saluted. A few stray people followed us into the church and afterwards to the graveyard, where we left Le Roux with his comrades who had gone before. I had not been there since All Saints Day and it was sad to see how many more graves had been added to the line. The ward seems very empty without Le Roux, but I am glad that the poor boy is at rest for he has suffered so long. I am beginning to think that death is the only good thing that can come to many of us.

January 25, 1916.

We have been awfully busy, wounded arriving every night, sometimes nine and sometimes ten, etc. To-night we have had only six so far, but will probably have some more before eight a.m., they have all been very bad cases. There has been a terrific bombardment every night we have been on duty.

My little tent nearly blew away in the big wind storm, so I had to sleep in the barracks--or rather try to sleep. I did not succeed very well, so to-day I moved back to the tent. From my bed in the tent I can see the troops passing on the road and aeroplanes in the sky. To-day we saw so many we knew it would mean trouble to-night. The trenches were bombarded, and some of the poor men who were wounded had to lie in the mud and cold for over twelve hours before they could be moved, consequently they arrived here in a pretty bad shape. One of the men had on a pair of Mrs. D----'s socks. I had sent them to Colonel Noble and he gave them to the men in the trenches. It has been clear and frosty for two nights, such a relief after all the rain. The hospital is full of very sick men. I am glad to be on night duty for a change.

January 30, 1916.

It has been so cold and damp to-day that I could not get warm even in bed. I like sleeping out in the little tent and as a rule sleep very well--have a cup of hot tea when they wake us at six o'clock. I wear two pair of socks, beside the rooms are not so frightfully damp since we got up the little stoves; they get dried out once a day, which is a great advantage.

I am sending you some snap shots of my little kitty. We call her "Antoinette" after the aeroplane, for she makes a noise like the aeroplane when she sings.

When I have a chance I shall go back to Divonne for a rest--it is too far to go home--but there does not seem any chance of it at present. The English nurses who have been here six months will have to go first, and we are more than busy. There are two new nurses coming next week--Canadians, I think. It is very difficult to get nurses up here, there is so much red tape to go through.