Agnes Warner and the Nursing Sisters of the Great War (10 page)

Madam L'H___ was called back to Verdun today; she was supposed to have three weeks' holidays, but has only been away ten days. She is not fit to go back but there is no help for it.

There was great excitement here when Italy finally declared war. It is awful to think of the brutes throwing bombs on Venice. I do hope they will not do any harm there.

I must say good-night, for I am tired. I am up at half-past five every morning and seldom get off duty before nine at night.

June 20, 1915

Yesterday we got five patients — the four worst were consigned to me. One poor chap was shot through the body and the spine was injured; they do not know just what the extent of the injury is, but he is completely paralyzed from the waist down. Fortunately he is very small, so it is not difficult to take care of him; he is the most cheerful soul, and says he has much to be thankful for as he has never suffered at all. When he was shot he simply had the sensation of his legs disappearing. When he fell he said to a comrade, “Both my legs have gone,” but he had no pain at all. His comrade assured him that he had not lost his legs, but he said he could not believe it until he got to the hospital. He has received the
Médaille Militaire
for bravery, and his comrades said he certainly deserved it. He is so glad to get here, where it is real country and quiet. We put him on a
chaise longue
on the balcony today and he has been out of doors all day long.

It is after ten o'clock, but I am still at the ambulance. We are waiting for
a train that is bringing us fifteen wounded directly from Alsace. Poor souls, they will be glad to get here, for they have been a long time on the way.

No letters this week; regulations are very strict again, and they are holding up all mail for eight or ten days.

June 22, 1915

I had to stop my letter as the men arrived. We got eighteen instead of fifteen. Such a tired dirty lot they were; they came straight from the battlefield, and had only had one dressing done since they were wounded. Some of them came on stretchers, others were able to walk, as they were wounded in the arms and head. I drew two from this lot, which brings my number up to seventeen again. One of mine has both bones broken in his leg and the other is wounded in the left side and shoulder. One poor chap had been a prisoner in one of the trenches for four days and they were unable to get any food all that time; most of them have slept ever since they arrived, they were so exhausted.

Today a military doctor came from Besançon to show us about some special electrical treatment. They are going to increase the beds by fifty to begin with, and later may make it three hundred.
⁵

The news is not good to-day, the Russians seem to be retreating all the time and the losses in the north are terrible.

There seems to be no doubt in the minds of many people that the war will last another year at least; it seems too terrible.

June 27, 1915

I did not get my letter off today as there was so much to do. We have had inspection all week. They have finally decided to enlarge the hospital very much and make it a semi-military institution of four hundred beds.
We are to turn the large dining-room into a ward with fifty beds, and the large part of the hotel will hold three hundred more. They want me to take charge. Dr. R___ will be chief with two assistants. There will be forty men nurses — convalescent soldiers — and I do not know how many more women nurses. I am very glad it has been so decided, for it is a great pity this place has not been of more use. Our last lot of men are getting on very well now; but we have had a hard week, for some of them were very ill. The doctor was very much afraid one man would lose his arm, but he has managed to save it.

I have grown to be a sort of official shotsnapper for the ambulance and village. It is really very interesting and my camera is very good.

Did I send you the snaps of the Bayin baby? She is only nine months old and runs around like a rabbit — is as pretty as a picture. I am so sleepy I can hardly see, so good-night.

July 4, 1915

I was glad to get your letter this week; three weeks on the way is a long time to wait.

I have such mixed feelings when I hear that the troops have left Saint John. My heart aches for those left behind, but I am so glad to know they are on the way, for they are needed badly and they will get a royal welcome, for Canadians have proved their worth. When they were in barracks and had nothing to do but drill they were not always angels; but when there was real work to be done their equal was not to be found. The French papers were full of the stories of their bravery. There were some officers who said that while others were splendid fighters the Canadians were marvelous.

It must have been terribly hard for Mrs.___ to let S___ go. I wish you would ask her for his address. I will try and get in touch with him and if he should be ill or wounded tell her I will go to him if I have to walk to get there. Get D___'s address also, so I can look after him. When I hear
of them all being over here a wave of homesickness comes over me and I feel that I must go and join them.

There is much to be done on this side now, for the fighting in Alsace has been terrible. The last lot of soldiers that came were
Chasseurs d'Alpine
, and out of one thousand two hundred who went off only five hundred came back, and the greater number of them wounded.

Fifteen young men from this village have been missing since the terrible battle of three weeks ago, the deaths of a half a dozen have been confirmed but of the others nothing is known.

I am afraid there is no chance of the war finishing before the winter is over.

I wish somebody would organize a “French Day” or “Divonne Day” and collect pennies for me; we will need so many things before the winter is over. The general who came the other day said to make the money we have go to the furthest possible point, and then make debts — the soldiers must be taken care of.

July 11, 1915

We have had arrivals and departures all week. The days are not half long enough to do all that is necessary. My four men who came for electrical treatment are getting on wonderfully well, the big one who was paralyzed and who could not move hand or foot when he came, is now walking without crutches, and feeds himself.

The poor little
chasseur
who was shot through the body is really better. He is beginning to walk — with a great deal of help, of course. He can make the movements of walking and can put both legs straight out in front of him, and the doctor says there is great hope of a permanent cure. Poor little man, he deserves to get well, for I have never seen such courage and patience. We begin tomorrow to prepare the big dining room for fifty new patients, so we shall have a busy week. I am to have charge of the big ward and keep my floor as well. I will have two military men nurses and some more people from the village to help.

July 17, 1915

We have had a most terrific rain for the last two days — the people are getting anxious on account of the grain.

There was no celebration in the village on the fourteenth [Bastille Day] as is usual, but at the ambulance we had a little feast in honor of the men who were at Metzeral. We have four from the Seventh
Chasseurs
, whose regiment was decorated for unusual bravery.

My paralyzed man stood up alone last Sunday for the first time and now he walks, pushing a chair before him like a baby. He is the happiest thing you can imagine; for seven months he has had no hope of ever walking again.

Seven left last week and six more go on Monday, so we shall probably get a train load before long.

I have got a small English boy to help me in the mornings. He has been at school in Switzerland and the whole family have come here for the summer in order to help at the ambulance.

One of the great actors from Paris was here on Wednesday and played and sang for the men. He is making a tour in an automobile and visiting all the hospitals in order to give performances for the soldiers. A collection is taken up afterwards that goes towards the support of the hospital. The men were a most appreciative and enthusiastic audience.

There is a young Swiss doctor from Geneva here now who has come to help Dr.___, who is very tired. I think he is rather surprised at the amount of work the old doctor gets through in a day. He said this morning that he would have to get up earlier in order to keep up with him.

The brother of my chambermaid has been missing for a month and the poor girl is terribly afraid he has been killed. He was at Arras, and the fighting there has been terrible.

Fifteen of the young men from the village are missing and every day comes the news of the death of someone.

We got five new men yesterday for electrical treatment; two of them are regular giants and we cannot get any clothes to fit them. They are devoted
to my little paralyzed man, and sit around and watch him as if he was a baby just learning to walk.

I feel as sleepy as a dried apple tonight, so please forgive me if I tell you the same things over many times.

July 25, 1915

Miss Todd took me out in her motor today for an hour. We took Daillet, my star patient, with us. It was a pleasure to see his enjoyment. Dr. R___ was much surprised at the progress he had made in eight days; he says there is no doubt but that he will be entirely cured. Daillet wrote to his mother and told her that he could stand alone and was beginning to walk, but she did not believe it; she thought that he was just trying to cheer her up, so he asked me to take a photo of him standing up so that he could send it to her. He was the proudest, happiest thing you can imagine when he sent it off. Then his aunt came to see him, so the poor mother is finally convinced that it is true, and is coming to see him as soon as the haying is done, but she has to work in the fields now and cannot get away.

It is wonderful the work that the women do here. There are only two old horses left in the whole village, so the women harness themselves into the rakes and wagons, and pull them in place of the horses — and they so seldom complain of the hard work. I asked one woman if she did not find it very hard, and she said at first it came very difficult but she got used to it and it was nice to be able to do their part.

We got twenty men from Alsace on Friday — some of them badly wounded. They did not arrive till half-past eleven at night, and it was three in the morning before we got the dressings done and got them to bed. It is the second time that some of them have been wounded. They are all
Chasseurs d'Alpine
— they are a splendid type. Some of them had both legs and both arms wounded. Yesterday we were rather anxious about several of them, but today they are better. They generally sleep about three days after they arrive, they are so done out.

Mrs. H___ has had to leave to care for a typhoid patient, so my hands are very full. My English boy is getting trained rapidly; he is only seventeen and not very strong, too young to go to the war but very keen to do something to help.

Do not worry about me, I am as well as possible and as strong as a horse, but as my day begins at half-past five in the morning and ends at half-past nine at night I fall asleep over my letters.

Thanks for the clippings; I would not have known Bayard [Warner's nephew] if the name had not been there. I do not dare to think of his coming, and yet I would not be proud of him if he did not want to come. I shall try and get up to the north later so as to be nearer him when he comes.

Good-night, mother; these are sad times, but we must not lose courage. I wish I could see you to-night.

August 1, 1915

To say that I was delighted will not express my feelings when I got the letter from the Loyalist Chapter, I.O.D.E., enclosing cheque. It was awful good of them to help us here, for I realize the demands for help on every side and it is only natural that they should send to the Canadians first. But Oh! it is so badly needed and will so do much good here. I had been racking my brain trying to think of a way to scratch up a few pennies, and then this delightful surprise came.

This hospital is called the “Paradise of the Seventh Region,” for it is so very far ahead of most of the French military hospitals. But while there is a good deal of luxury on one side, such as pleasant airy rooms, comfortable beds, good food and air, on the other hand there is a great lack of what we consider necessities. The first thing I did when I got the letter with the money was to order a foot tub for each floor, slippers for the patients when they are in the house, scissors for the pharmacy and for each floor, and various other small things that I have been longing for and that will save many steps. Now that the capacity of the hospital has been increased
by fifty beds, it is more difficult than ever to get money from the general fund for things of that kind; it really has to be kept for food and heating. We also need instruments and basins, etc., for a table for dressings in the new ward, as we have absolutely nothing. Then it is so nice to have a fund that we can draw on in case of need. Sometimes the men are terribly poor and cannot afford to get anything for themselves when they leave. Sometimes a ticket for a wife or daughter to come to see them and cheer them up. It is the second time some of these men have been wounded and they have not seen their families for a year.

It is just a year today (August 1) since mobilization began. At five o'clock in the morning the tocsin sounded and all the village gathered at the town hall to read the notice of mobilization. There were many sad and anxious hearts then, but many more now, for there is not a family who has not lost someone who is near and dear to them — and still it goes on. I wonder when the end will come.