IN THE 
 SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 WAR EXPERIENCES OF 
 MARY DEXTER 
 
 \9\4-\9\8 
 
 jrnia 
 Diial
 
 4 18 A»
 
 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE
 
 AS A PROBATIONER
 
 IN THE 
 SOLDIERS SERVICE 
 
 WAR EXPERIENCES OF 
 
 MARY DEXTER 
 
 ENGLAND • BELGIUM • FRANCE 
 1914-1918 
 
 EDITED BY HER MOTHER 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 dbe RitctjJiDc prciSs Cambriti0e
 
 COPYRIGHT, I918, BY MARY DEXTER 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published October igi8
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 I. England i 
 
 II. Belgium 71 
 
 III. Psycho-analysis 97 
 
 IV. France 135 
 
 Epilogue 208
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 As A Probationer Frontispiece 
 
 American Women's War Relief Hospital, Oldway, 
 
 Paignton 4 
 
 Arrival of Wounded at Paignton Station . .16 
 
 Some of the Patients 26 
 
 Christmas Dinner at Oldway House ... 36 
 
 In London, 191 5 66 
 
 Portrait of a Life-Preserver 74 
 
 Sketch Map OF A Part OF THE Western Front. . 137 
 
 The G.M.C 144 
 
 The Two Baraques 156 
 
 Interior OF THE Canteen 156 
 
 One OF the Cubicles 158 
 
 "A Few OF Us" 158 
 
 Air Raid at Cugny 162 
 
 At Breakfast in the Baraque 166 
 
 The Two Lieutenants 178 
 
 At Work 182 
 
 A Poilu's Funeral near the Front . . . .186
 
 1. ENGLAND
 
 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 WAR EXPERIENCES OF MARY DEXTER 
 
 1914-1918 
 
 Lindfield, Sussex, England 
 
 September 10, 19 14 
 
 Dearest Mother: — 
 
 I am nearly mad with joy! I have just today had 
 a letter from the American War Hospital in Devonshire 
 offering me a post — and 1 am off early next week, as soon 
 as I can get my wash-dresses and aprons. They want me 
 to take charge of a serving-kitchen connected with a large 
 medical ward, and 1 am to help in the ward between meals 
 if 1 like — I need n't if 1 don't, but 1 shall, needless to say! 
 And I may get promotion. No pay — 1 offered my serv- 
 ices. There are quantities applying and the Matron says 
 she is selecting me on the recommendation of the Secretary 
 in London, to whom the Carters introduced me. Is n't it 
 luck! I don't know for how long — until the end of the 
 war if I choose — but 1 can leave when I like.
 
 4 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 American Women's War Hospital 
 
 Oldway House, Paignton 
 South Devon, England 
 September 17, 19 14 
 
 It is awfully nice here and I love it. No wounded 
 yet — it is tiresome waiting — we are hoping any day now 
 to hear that they are coming. The War Office has been 
 inquiring how soon we can take patients. You see the 
 hospital is Oldway House — the Singer Sewing Machine 
 people's private house built over — and is just ready. It 
 is a huge place — with columns and terraces — and enor- 
 mous airy rooms which make capital wards. There are 
 two hundred beds. 
 
 My job is in the medical ward, adjoining the big house, 
 with sixty-seven beds — it was the servants' banqueting hall. 
 My special domain is a darling little kitchen attached to it, 
 where the food is brought and kept hot for serving in the 
 ward. The patients who are able will come in to eat there 
 at a long table. I am in charge of the food and special diets, 
 and between meals I am to help in the ward. The nurses 
 are nice, and are teaching me a lot. I live at their quarters, 
 Fernham, a very comfortable house, five minutes' walk 
 from the big house, in the grounds. I am in luck, having a 
 room up in a tower — all to myself — with a quaint little 
 staircase coming up into it, and nine narrow windows. It 
 is nicer, for one has to go there anyhow for dinner at 12.30
 
 ENGLAND 5 
 
 and supper at 7.30, and it is good to go directly to bed, 
 witiiout having to pile out in the dark and wet back to the 
 big house and up a hundred staircases to bed. We get up 
 at 6.45 and breakfast at 7. 1 5 — it does not take long to 
 dress into uniform. I enclose sample of my dress — and I 
 wear apron, cap, and white sleeves to the elbow. I look 
 quite sedate and capable! ! 
 
 September 22, 1914 
 
 Am as happy as a cricket. Luckily 1 have had this 
 week to get accustomed to the life, for it is quite a change 
 from my usual one — and when our patients come it will 
 be very hard work. The hospital is only just ready — 
 operating-room, bathrooms, etc. The War Office has 
 wired that the Military Commandant will arrive very 
 soon — which means the wounded very soon after him. 
 There are quantities of people coming daily to see the 
 hospital, who are a dreadful trial — and no money can be 
 taken from them unless they are Americans — the Duchess 
 of Marlborough and the rest of the Committee are firmly 
 decided it shall be only U.S.A. money to run the hospital. 
 We are connected with the British Red Cross, however, 
 not the American. 
 
 1 love my kitchen — it is a darling — and in such per- 
 fect order. I am in charge of it, absolutely — the Head 
 Sister of the ward consults me as to what I want and how
 
 6 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 I want it. I felt very small and ignorant at first, but I 
 did n't let on — bluff is a necessary asset! And now I feel 
 quite au fait with it all. 1 shall make tea for sixty-seven 
 patients — and see to everything. The orderlies do the 
 heavy cleaning and wash up — and I have to see that they 
 do it. 
 
 Being in uniform, cap and all, 1 look like a Sister, al- 
 though my dress is a lighter blue, and the regular trained 
 Sisters are in very dark blue. I think the orderlies think 
 I am one. 
 
 I hear that all the world is mad to be here, if only to 
 scrub floors. One lady wrote and offered to pay a hundred 
 and fifty pounds a year to be allowed to come and cook or 
 scrub! The Matron told me that she has had countless 
 letters. 
 
 October i, 1914 
 
 Things are humming — a hundred and thirty 
 wounded arrived Sunday night by ambulance train from 
 Southampton, and we expect more tomorrow. We got 
 fifty-four in our ward — only a few medical cases, rheu- 
 matism, head pains, and giddiness from exposure and 
 shock, and a case of suspected typhoid which turns out 
 now not to be. The rest are all surgical — some quite 
 bad. 
 They were utterly dazed and exhausted that night when
 
 ENGUND 7 
 
 they arrived — too tired to ask where they were — only 
 one or two asked later on after food. They arrived at 
 8 P.M. and how we worked, getting the helpless ones to 
 bed, and packing all their filthy clothing in big sacks, to 
 go and be baked. A duplicate list had to be made of every- 
 thing they possessed, and we cannot think of those sacks 
 now without aching all over. And imagine me making 
 cocoa for fifty-four patients, and serving beef tea and 
 bread and butter! 
 
 Their one idea was to wash — some had lain ten days 
 in the trenches, and many had not washed for six or seven 
 weeks — and when I was not doing more important 
 things, I was tearing about carrying bowls of hot water 
 for them to do the best they could with. You never saw 
 anything like the color when they had done — chocolate 
 is pale to what it was. 
 
 We got to bed about a quarter before one and were up 
 again at 6.30 the next morning. Such a day of confusion 
 as, of course, the first day was bound to be. The doctors 
 never finished their rounds until 5 p.m. Now we are in 
 running order. 
 
 I was perfectly aghast when I found that I not only 
 have complete charge of the stores and the amounts of 
 things — how many ounces of cocoa and pounds of sugar 
 and butter per week to be used per man — but that I am 
 also responsible for the diets. In the serving I have to see
 
 8 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 that the men on fish diet get their fish — those on mjlk diet, 
 their milk — those on "extras," their eggs, etc. Also that 
 those with slings get their food cut up before it leaves the 
 kitchen — that " No. 45 " has always minced meat and a 
 feeding-cup, as part of his chin is shot away. So far I 
 have been too engrossed and busy to do any surgical work, 
 but I shall get it later. 
 
 I have several such nice soldier boys to help me — one 
 especially nice Irish lad is my right-hand man. He has 
 "head," in which the orderlies are utterly lacking, and is 
 a great comfort. The patients do all the washing-up and 
 keep the kitchen as clean as a pin — I mean several who 
 are able — and they like it. The Irish boy has a scalp 
 wound from a bit of shell — so his head is bandaged — 
 and there are many nasty wounds in our ward — bayo- 
 net, shrapnel, and bullet wounds. I helped dress an arm 
 last night that had a bullet right through and out the 
 other side. They are very pleased when the bullets are 
 taken out and given to them — they put them in their 
 lockers to show to every one. One man lost his fore- 
 finger — cut off by a German — and it was neglected and 
 is very bad. They are cheerful now — full of chat and 
 jokes. 
 
 Eighteen come to eat at the long kitchen table. 1 over- 
 hear such interesting war talk, but am too busy serving 
 to be able to take in much. Dinner is no joke — 1 dread
 
 ENGLAND g 
 
 the hour from twelve to one! The meat, already carved, 
 and the vegetables in hot tins, are brought over from the 
 main kitchen for me to serve — it is not easy, for one 
 must come out even! And the "specials" are such a 
 care. 
 
 The Duchess of Marlborough and Lady Randolph 
 Churchill came down two days ago to see us and inspect 
 everything. We suspected there was something up their 
 sleeve, and guess what it was! You know the American 
 Red Cross ship — the nurses and doctors have arrived 
 in London clamoring for work, and the result is that this 
 ward of ours, which is a detached hall, is to be given over 
 to them to be run quite separately. We of the British Red 
 Cross are to go on in the main house, and I am to do sur- 
 gical work. My Head Sister asked for me. 
 
 Am writing in my kitchen now, with two orderlies 
 circling about — not conducive to consecutive thought. 
 
 October 2, 19 14 
 
 Am dog-tired tonight — my feet. You see distances 
 are enormous here — back and forth from ward to Fern- 
 ham, our quarters, for meals. The main house is so huge 
 that to go anywhere is a long trip. 1 think twice before I 
 go from one end of our ward to the other when 1 am tired. 
 The American Red Cross nurses are here — in a hotel 
 until their Home is ready. They all had tea v*'ith us today.
 
 10 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Two came on in our ward to relieve us, and soon I shall 
 perhaps get an afternoon off — oh ! heavenly bliss — how 
 I would enjoy it! 
 
 Lots of our patients were in Mons, and one was among 
 the wounded in Rheims Cathedral when the shelling by 
 the Germans began. They say that the Germans driving 
 women and children in front and firing on the Red Cross 
 and killing women and children is all true — they have 
 seen it. 
 
 October 5, 19 14 
 
 Just another short line to tell you that today was 
 my first as a real "pro." (probationer)! When we came 
 down to breakfast, 7.15 a.m., the lists were posted and 1, 
 " Nurse Dexter," was listed to be under the Second Matron 
 in her three wards — Leeds, Churchill, and Burns. She 
 and her assistant are giving me the real thing — and now 1 
 am in the thick of it ! I am glad of my week of kitchen — 
 and am far more useful with what I learned there. I shall 
 get off every day now from dinner until tea — 2 to 4 — or 
 from tea till supper — 5 to 7.30 — a far more satisfactory 
 life than my kitchen where 1 had all the meals every day 
 and just spare moments between. 
 
 1 love the atmosphere of my new job — instead of one 
 very long, narrow room, it is three rooms and is very 
 cheerful.
 
 ENGLAND 1 1 
 
 Churchill is the middle ward. Burns and Churchill open 
 on the front terrace, with a view of the gardens, and Leeds 
 
 is behind. 
 
 The men are jolly and sing and whistle a lot, and there 
 is a gramophone. Every morning we make beds to the 
 
 Stwif/img Po n^rv Men's Ba t h 
 
 |ove/y 
 vieiY 
 
 large marb/e h»/l 
 
 tune of "Tipperary." I help with the dressings and hold 
 the fractures while they are dressed. 1 shall do them later 
 — I bandaged one today — but I am in no hurry, for we 
 had no fractures at the Boston Dispensary. Such terrible 
 wounds, some of them! One Guardsman, six feet three 
 tall, has a fractured forearm — a piece of shell went clean 
 through. He is in the Coldstreams and he gets unmerci- 
 fully chaffed by the others. They say the Guards are only 
 "figgerheads," their chests padded, and that they went to 
 the front in first-class carriages! He told me that Queen
 
 12 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Mary cried when she saw them reviewed the day they left. 
 As a rule, none of the Guards ever leave London — as you 
 know, they must all be over six feet tall. Another terribly 
 bad case is a nice, fair-haired boy whose arm is all torn 
 away by a shell. He never stops bantering, and keeps the 
 ward in a roar of laughter while his arm is being dressed, 
 although his lips and the cords in his neck are twitching 
 incessantly with pain. You never saw such pluck! The 
 Guardsman can walk about with his arm in a sling, but 
 this boy can't move. He is all day with his arm on pillows, 
 and never utters a complaint. 
 
 You don't half appreciate my luck in getting in here. 
 There were more than one hundred applicants. My friends 
 write that " being in a Red Cross military hospital is next 
 best to going to the front," and now I am a "pro." doing 
 just what I have always dreamed of. 
 
 Here in Fernham, as in all nurses' quarters, we make 
 our own beds. There are seventeen of us and only a cook, 
 parlor maid, and housemaid. I have just made such a nice 
 arrangement. The twelve-year old sister of the housemaid, 
 who lives near, is to come in every morning at 6.30, to bring 
 hot water and shut my windows — also make my bed and 
 mend, and come again at night to put the hot bottle in 
 my bed. She is delighted to do it at a shilling a week! It 
 will make a great difference, for this room is colder than 
 any one's else, being in the tower.
 
 ENGLAND 13 
 
 It is annoying for tlie American Red Cross nurses who 
 have come here — the War Office sent them, yesterday, 
 seventy patients who are almost well — convalescents from 
 another hospital, not straight from the front like ours. But 
 1 hope they will get what they want very soon. 
 
 October 15, 1914 
 
 By now you will know that I am doing surgical 
 work in the wards, but one need not think less of my job 
 that was! The American Red Cross nurses told me that I 
 was what is called in the U.S.A. a "dietitian." 
 
 We had a great old time yesterday, for word had come 
 that one hundred and forty Belgians were arriving at 
 4 A.M. We were up at all hours, and got to the Hospital in 
 pitch-black early dawn, only to find that they were not 
 coming until 3 p.m. So we went back and on to our 
 beds until time to get up. When they finally did come 
 in the afternoon, they were English! And now the 
 beds are full up — two hundred of them — some awfully 
 bad cases, straight from the front — the wounds are 
 terrible. 
 
 One gets quite interested in the men themselves — it 
 is like living in a book of Kipling's. In many ways they 
 are children — this class of men. I enclose you a poem 
 by one of them — he copied it for me with great pride in 
 red ink! Note the spelling: —
 
 14 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 TEN GERMAN ARMY CORPS 
 
 Ten German army corps started from the Rhine, 
 One got as far as Liege, then their were Nine. 
 
 Nine German army corps, feeling most elate. 
 Met Tommy A. at Mons, then their were Eight. 
 
 Eight German army corps, missioners from Heaven (!), 
 Lost some guns at Compiegne, then their were Seven. 
 
 Seven German army corps, playing nasty tricks. 
 Got sent a>|ay from Paris, then their were Six. 
 
 Six German army corps, feeling half alive. 
 
 Stopped to rest beside the Marne, then their were Five. 
 
 Five German army corps, feeling rather sore. 
 Were held up on the Aisne, then their were Four. 
 
 Four German army corps, rattled as could be. 
 One met some Indians, then their were Three. 
 
 Three German army corps, not knowing what to do. 
 Turned tail for Berlin, then their were Two. 
 
 Two German army corps, fairly on the run. 
 Went home through Belgium, then their was One. 
 
 One German army corps, knowing they were done. 
 Stopped to Curse the Kaiser, then their was None. 
 
 Rest in Peace.
 
 ENGLAND 15 
 
 The one who lost his forefinger — cut off by Germans — 
 is nearly well. We saved his arm. He is leaving us in a 
 few days. They were getting a month at home before 
 returning to the front, but it has been reduced to a fort- 
 night. 1 hear London is black at night and may be bombed 
 any day — it is all very serious, 
 
 October 23, 19 14 
 
 I am pleased with your idea of typewriting my let- 
 ters — they will be valuable to me later on — souvenirs of 
 one of the most interesting times of my life. I am writing 
 in the ward while on duty — just a hasty line. It is 2 
 o'clock, and the men are all napping on their beds. I have 
 finished rolling untold quantities of bandages on the little 
 machine — and have nothing to do for the moment. It is 
 the slack period of the day — at this hour I am generally 
 off, and come on duty again from 4 to 8. I prefer it, as 
 there is more work then. 
 
 Last week we got a hundred and forty by ambulance 
 train — very bad cases. But they were not in the same 
 filthy, exhausted condition as our first lot of patients — 
 that first week could never be repeated — it was the experi- 
 ence of a lifetime. 
 
 A bad arm had to be operated on — they did it in the 
 ward instead of taking him to the operating-room — 
 screened in, of course. I am fond of the boy, and was glad
 
 i6 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 the operation took place while I was on duty. He is the 
 boy who lay three days in the trenches with a dead man 
 beside him before he was found, and flies got at his wound. 
 If I could stand that operation, I could stand anything. 
 I was holding it and it was all I could bear — the stench 
 was beyond words. He makes us laugh while it is being 
 dressed, although it is agonizing pain — he calls it the 
 "butcher's shop which has n't been opened for a week"; 
 but, thank goodness, it is better the last two days. I do 
 the dressings for a very nice boy who had to have one eye 
 taken out — I don't awfully care about doing eyes — so 
 delicate. They were afraid he would lose the other, but he 
 is getting on well. 
 
 M has twice sent a nice lot of nut milk chocolate to 
 
 the men, which they love. I wrote her she could n't have 
 sent anything they like better — they are very fed up 
 with cigarettes and jam and Devonshire cream. 
 
 CABLEGRAM 
 
 November 3, 1914 
 
 Terribly busy — hundred bad stretcher cases arrived — 
 missed post. Dexter 
 
 November 6, 191 4 
 
 All goes well. I can't manage to write letters much, 
 for since our new lot of patients came, the work has been
 
 z. 
 
 X
 
 ENGUND 17 
 
 very heavy, and I sleep when off duty — it is the only way 
 to keep going. Terribly bad cases they were — all stretcher 
 cases. We were filled right up in our three wards. Morn- 
 ings, I work especially under Sister Vera in Churchill, and 
 she is teaching me a lot. She is one of the nurses from Aus- 
 tralia, with splendid training — is very strict and gives me 
 the real thing and a liberal supply of pepper which wakens 
 one up! She says I have improved and gives me a lot to do 
 which probationers are not supposed to do at ail. It is all 
 glorious experience. We have a case of scarlet fever — dis- 
 covered this A.M. — not actually in Churchill, but in Leeds 
 adjoining — he is, of course, to be isolated, but they are 
 very put to it to know where to move him. There is 
 already a case of tetanus isolated, and the hospital is so 
 full there is no room. 
 
 I have such lots to tell you, I don't know where to begin. 
 I am very well — a very heavy cold went through and 
 nearly every one of us got it, but not I. The Secretary 
 came down from London for a week-end, not long ago, and 
 I hunted her up and fell on her neck and told her how 
 grateful I was to her for getting me here. She was awfully 
 nice and said I was the only person here who looked really 
 well. It is true that every one does look fagged — this is 
 really harder than ordinary hospital work in many ways, 
 and most of these Sisters have been doing private cases, 
 which is a less muscular life.
 
 i8 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Later 
 The scarlet fever case has been taken to the fever 
 hospital in Torquay, and everything was disinfected this 
 afternoon. 
 
 The British Tommies are the dearest things in the world, 
 such refinement and delicacy of feeling — and sense of 
 humor — and kindness among themselves. It is a priv- 
 ilege not only to nurse them, but to know them. They are 
 more than entertaining. They have a lingo of their own, 
 all sorts of expressions, that mean nothing until you learn 
 them. 
 
 I just wish you could see me from 9.30 to 1 1.30 a.m. — 
 that is our time for doing the dressings. When 1 come on 
 at 7.45, I have to put my little kitchenette in order, see to 
 stores, etc., and one of the men scrubs the sink and polishes 
 the taps — they do it all for me most beautifully. Then 
 after our 9 o'clock tea, we start dressings, and no matter 
 how much there is to do, we strain every nerve to get 
 through before the men's dinner hour, 1 1.30. I go ahead 
 of the doctor and Sister Vera, "take down" the dressings 
 — have everything ready when they arrive at each case — 
 bandage up each case when they leave — boil all the in- 
 struments after each case — and prepare the fomentations. 
 You can imagine one has to be all there to have the trolley 
 always ready and no delays. Sometimes I do the dress- 
 ings, too, and have certain ones of my own, including the
 
 ENGLAND 19 
 
 boy shot through the forehead who has lost an eye. Yes- 
 terday afternoon Sister Vera told me to do all her dress- 
 ings, and she arranged flowers and otherwise enjoyed 
 herself. 
 
 November 7, 19 14 
 
 Today has been a glorious day, for I was sent up to 
 the operating-room with one of our cases — Donnaghy, 
 a nice Irishman — a hip case very interesting to us all. 
 A nurse is always supposed to go with her case, and today 
 Sister Vera arranged for me to go instead of her. Such an 
 interesting operation, too, for he had a jagged piece of 
 shrapnel in the thigh — very deep, causing much pain, 
 and obliging him to lie always on his face. They operated 
 once, some weeks ago, but could not find it, so he has 
 already two wounds — where it entered, which is now 
 healed, and where they operated before. Very interesting 
 it was today — for after searching for an hour, they fin- 
 ally had to take him to the X-ray room and find it in that 
 way — a last resort. They entered from the front, and for 
 one hour I stood beside the doctors, holding up the X-ray 
 plate, so that they could see it as they worked. I was very 
 tired when I went up — and finding what I had to do, I 
 had an awful moment when I felt I could n't bear to see 
 him cut — but made myself look; and after that I did not 
 mind, or feel the constraint of holding the edges of the
 
 20 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 plate for so long. Sister Vera told me afterward that she, 
 after ten years of nursing, sometimes shuts her eyes for the 
 first cut. 
 
 I shall have been here two months on Wednesday — it 
 has passed like two weeks. We have the British flag, the 
 American flag, and the Red Cross flag flying over us — 
 very nice they look. 
 
 We are in quarantine on account of the scarlet fever 
 case — not the Hospital, but our three wards. That means 
 only that the men are not allowed to visit other wards 
 and no visitors allowed in to us. 
 
 S is drilling hard, still in England — he got a com- 
 mission in the Scots Guards. K is going, too. N 
 
 is already at the front. Captain H is killed, and so it 
 
 goes — terrible news on every side — one simply would go 
 mad, if one were not working — too tired to think. 
 
 I forgot to tell you of one of the most interesting cases 
 in our ward — a Gordon Highlander, shot in the thigh — 
 and every time we dress it, scraps of his kilt come out. 
 He is for operation, as the bullet is still in, and was to have 
 gone up yesterday, but was postponed, as Donnaghy took 
 too long. I do his dressings often. The Second Matron 
 often stays off in the afternoon nowadays and leaves Sister 
 Vera in charge of the three wards, with only me. I love 
 the little details of nursing — straightening their beds, 
 and generally making them comfortable. The doctors and
 
 ENGLAND 21 
 
 nurses call me "Sister" and sometimes I forget I am not 
 one — until, at other times, I feel hopelessly ignorant. 
 
 I am writing in our little pantry, waiting for the night 
 nurses to come on. 
 
 November 16, 19 14 
 
 First of all, to tell you that I am on night duty since 
 Friday. Am writing by the drawing-room fire, waiting for 
 "breakfast" at 7.15 p.m.! The hours are from 8 to 8 — 
 there are only two night nurses for the thirty men of our 
 wards. There is a lovely big coal fire going all night in 
 Burns Ward, which is named for Mary Burns, the niece, by 
 marriage, of Mr. J. P. Morgan. We sit before the fire — 
 very cozy — with a small electric lamp, and two red screens 
 around us to keep the light from the men. There really is 
 not much sitting, for rounds are made every half-hour. 
 Sister Jeffries and 1 have lunch at midnight, separately, of 
 course, for we cannot both leave the wards at once. During 
 the wee small hours, there is very little to do, for even our 
 five worst cases sleep fairly well. We have cocoa and bread 
 and jam at 4 a.m. and half an hour later the morning rush 
 begins. You should see Sister Jeffries and me dashing about 
 with bowls and methylated spirit and powder — we have 
 to begin at that unearthly hour or else we should not be 
 through in time for their breakfast at 6 a.m. Any one who 
 could see the wards at 4.30 or 5 a.m., with the electric lights
 
 22 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 suddenly on, the men sitting up in bed, washing them- 
 selves — and those who have the wherewithal, shaving 
 themselves — would n't think there was much poetry in 
 "nursing the wounded" ! ! As for their breakfasts, I have 
 to heat porridge, make cocoa for about ten, tea for twenty, 
 and boil eggs for several — all on one gas ring. By 8 o'clock, 
 I am jolly glad to get off, I can tell you. At 8.30 a.m., we 
 have a real dinner (!) — meat, vegetables, pudding, etc. — 
 amusing to eat meat at that hour! 
 
 Another Unit of the American Red Cross arrived. Two 
 or three of the doctors are very good and much admired 
 by the English. Those of the first Unit were using dry 
 dressings entirely — with vaseline. At the Boston Dis- 
 pensary, too, dry were used for fairly clean wounds — but 
 with boric salve — for vaseline is a nasty germ collector. 
 The British Red Cross are using, for all dirty wounds, the 
 fomentations, which are pink boracic lint, wrung out in 
 boiling water, laid on as hot as the patient can stand it. 
 They are changed two or three times in the twenty-four 
 hours, and are considered to clean up the wounds quicker 
 than anything else. The running wounds need wet dress- 
 ings and to be changed at least twice a day. I have seen 
 
 — with No. lo's arm, and Brown's leg, and many others 
 
 — that every time the doctor has tried a change to dry 
 dressings they have got worse, and he has had to return 
 to fomentations. The first American Unit used dry dress-
 
 ENGLAND 23 
 
 ings on all wounds and only did them once a day, but as 
 soon as the new doctors of the second Unit arrived, two 
 days ago, from Hasler, the great Naval Hospital, they put 
 the whole of the American ward on fomentations! They 
 have seen the good of it at Hasler. The English nurses 
 were awfully decent, and have n't once said, " 1 told you 
 so!" I almost felt that I ought to stick up for Uncle 
 Sam's methods! 
 
 We have a Cameron Highlander and a Gordon High- 
 lander in adjoining beds — both their wounds were full of 
 colored bits of their kilts which kept coming out for days. 
 The latter had his operation, and I was again sent up — 
 the bullet could not be found and he had to be taken to the 
 X-ray room. It was fascinating to see the doctors' hands 
 X-rayed as they worked, looking like animated skeletons. 
 He went absolutely blue under the ether — 1 have heard 
 of it happening, but never saw it before. The etherizer had 
 to clamp his jaw open and tongue out, and such blueness 
 I never saw. The doctors were deep in his thigh after the 
 bullet, and I was at his feet, rotating the leg for them — 
 I was so frightened I nearly stopped rotating, but he got 
 better soon. ; 
 
 If Sister Vera goes to the front, as she is keen to do, I 
 might go with her. She has been thinking of it very seri- 
 ously, but found that the idea of her going upset her three 
 bad cases — Brown, No. 10, and Donnaghy — so much.
 
 24 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 that she said tonight she would at least wait until they are 
 better. Those three are in adjoining beds and great friends, 
 though anything more different you never knew. No. lo, 
 whose name is Jakeway — called "Ginger" by the other 
 men — is the red-haired boy with the terribly bad arm. 
 It was operated on twice in France and twice since he came 
 here — the first time I wrote you of — and it had to be 
 done again, more pieces of dead bone taken out. Poor lad, 
 he will be here for Christmas without doubt. He is full 
 of fun and temperament — although when his parents 
 came to see him, I wondered whence he got the tempera- 
 ment! He is the origin of half the fun in the ward. His 
 poor arm is very bad — there is a tube and it has to be 
 syringed through — a back-breaking process. 
 
 In the next bed is Brown, of the Oxfordshire Light 
 Infantry, a handsome lad about twenty-one — and he 
 almost looks a gentleman — it gives one a shock when he 
 speaks in unintelligible Cockney. He was shot through 
 the leg and has had a very bad time — the leg suppurated, 
 and was operated on again last week. The bone was quite 
 dead, and he will be very lucky if he ever gets the use of it. 
 He has a keen sense of humor — very observing and inter- 
 ested in everything. 
 
 Next to Brown is our nice, iron-gray-haired Irishman — 
 Donnaghy — about forty, of whose operation I wrote you. 
 He is very quiet and a great power in the ward, and we are
 
 ENGLAND 25 
 
 all fond of him. He suffers a lot, but never complains, and 
 always has a smile in response to any word. 
 
 They love discussions, and prepare them to spring on 
 Sister Vera and me. We have had the most heated argu- 
 ments at times — the other day it was on what is the realest 
 bravery — they got to reminiscing of their experiences and 
 feelings at the front in a most interesting way. Brown 
 is trying to place me. When Sister Vera and I were talking 
 about going to the front, he was terribly interested whether 
 I had ever put up with roughing it — said he could not see 
 me traveling three days in a cattle truck full of wounded. 
 Nevertheless, 1 said I had roughed it, and, quick as a flash, 
 he said, "How, in a first-class carriage?" He ended up 
 by informing me he knew ! was a " pukka " lady ! " Pukka," 
 as I wrote you, means "real" — the men have picked it 
 up in India. 
 
 I have never told that 1 am not paid, but they guess it, 
 and when Sister Vera ran me off my feet — and took my 
 head off, too — they used to remonstrate with her, to her 
 great amusement. Most of the nurses don't bother to train 
 probationers, and I am grateful to Sister Vera. 
 
 In the last lot of patients is a big Grenadier Guardsman, 
 shot across the chest — the bullet went through, just 
 escaping the breast-bone and ribs. He is doing well now. 
 He was married only a week before he went to the front. 
 Queen Mary recognized him when she came, and told him
 
 26 /;V THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 she remembered him well, on guard outside Buckingham 
 Palace. Also the big Coldstream Guardsman about whom 
 I wrote you long ago — she remembered him, too. He is 
 nearly well, going out soon. I shall love to look for them 
 on guard by and by, when the war is over! Queen Mary 
 talked to all the patients. The last time I saw her was 
 in the Throne Room in Buckingham Palace — not many 
 months ago, but such a difference! 
 
 I did not, after all, let my cottage, for twelve hundred 
 Territorials are quartered for a time in Lindfield, and two 
 officers have been billeted there. 
 
 'November 22, 1914 
 
 Matron offered to give me two nights off before the 
 rush of new patients who are expected soon, but I said I 
 would prefer waiting until this next rush is over — and 
 then have enough time to go home for two or three nights. 
 She said yes, and then threw in last night as an extra. 
 
 It is bitterly cold these days, and my tower room is next 
 to being outdoors. I wear my old green jersey coat on 
 duty during the night, gliding noiselessly about in the 
 peacock-velvet shoes you gave me, a little searchlight in 
 my hand. When I sit down, a heavy coat and my civet-cat 
 fur rug are none too warm — that 's what the Cornish 
 and Devon "Riviera" gives us! 
 
 It may amuse you to know that the fashion in Hinds'
 
 
 nfcfc:,r^i 
 
 j! 
 
 SOME OF THE PATIENTS 
 
 The Coldstream Guardsman is standing, with his left arm in a sling
 
 ENGLAND 27 
 
 Honey and Almond Cream rages furiously here among the 
 nurses! It has spread until nearly all are using it, and they 
 thank me at intervals. One of the probationers told me 
 today it has cured her lame feet entirely in two days. The 
 other night I went down to the dispensary, which is in 
 the basement, and lo, there was a bottle of Hinds' Honey 
 which the dispenser had been analyzing to see why it is 
 so good ! 
 
 The T 's are hard hit by the war, as is every one. 
 
 They are closing three quarters of Old Place, and sending 
 away the cook — the kitchen-maid is to cook with the 
 scullery-maid to help. Their menservants are all gone — 
 chauffeur and gardeners as well. 
 
 November 26, 19 14 
 
 Eighty more patients came in on Sunday. Among 
 this lot are one or two cases of bronchitis and pneumonia — 
 from exposure. One of the bronchitis men told me this 
 morning that he has several times been in the trenches for 
 seven or eight days, in water up to his waist — with no 
 chance to get dry. 
 
 We are getting quite used to the rushes now, but we 
 always dread the first few days. They are in terrible con- 
 dition, most of them, mentally as well as physically — 
 they lie for several days without a word or a smile. They 
 tell us afterwards that it seems like a dream at first just
 
 28 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 to lie in bed and eat and sleep. There is a special, what 
 we call, "from the front" expression on their faces when 
 they arrive, which fades. They never speak of the horrors 
 they have seen until long after — one would not ask at 
 first. 
 
 Last night I saw an interesting case — one of the worst 
 which came on Sunday. He is in Paget Ward, and one of 
 the American nurses took me in to see him and to help her. 
 He has lost his leg at the knee, and gangrene has set in. 
 When they operated — at the front — they did not leave 
 enough flap of skin to cover the stump. His temperature 
 was 104 last night and he is to be operated on today, the 
 leg taken off at the hip. All last night the Sister had to 
 tightly bandage his leg for fifteen minutes out of every 
 hour, to prevent gangrene spreading. He may get all right, 
 but he may die of septic poisoning. 
 
 I am enclosing post-card views — first of Hadfield Ward, 
 and I have marked "Jones of the Lancers," one of our 
 worst cases — enteric, a gangrene back, and wounds in the 
 shoulder and leg. He was rescued by one of our men in 
 Burns Ward, and no one thought he could live. Sister 
 
 P , who pulled him through, is at the left, with gray 
 
 hair. The group taken in the operating-room shows 
 Hannaford, who rescued Jones of the Lancers, and has 
 been recommended for a medal.
 
 ENGLAND 29 
 
 Saturday morning, November 28, 191 4 
 We had a Thanksgiving cake on Thursday, for the 
 American Red Cross nurses and me! 
 
 It is now 3.30 A.M. At 4, 1 must go to heat a cup of milk 
 for the bronchitis man. At 4.30, I shall get tea for the other 
 nurse and myself, and then we turn on the lights and start 
 the morning rush. 
 
 Brown with the bad leg has been very ill tonight — in 
 much pain, and has had to have morphia. He was operated 
 on again two days ago, and they took out a piece of dead 
 bone the size of a forefinger. It will have to be plated later 
 — poor Brown! 
 
 A man in Paget was telling the Sister that he had been 
 once eleven days without sleep, marching all day and fight- 
 ing all night. He said he had to kick men who were about 
 him, to keep them awake to fight. He heard men in the 
 trenches praying aloud that they might be shot — in order 
 to be taken to a hospital to get rest. No wonder our 
 men lie like logs when they first come in! It is terrible to 
 think of. 
 
 Mwtsey Ward, December 6, 19 14 
 
 I wrote you about having been at home on three 
 days' leave — it was a lovely rest — breakfast in bed, and 
 I did simply nothing, except lunch and dine out quietly 
 once or twice.
 
 30 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 I am no longer in Churchill — Matron has put Sister 
 Vera on night duty, in charge of Munsey Ward — the 
 sixty-seven-bed annex where I used to be. She asked for 
 me to go, too, so here we are — our fourth night — and a 
 delightful change. Churchill Ward was very upset at 
 losing her and asked Matron to give her back. The men 
 say they are "pukka" miserable without us. 
 
 I am very glad to be with Sister Vera again — it is 
 inspiring to work under her. She and Sister Scott, and a 
 
 new probationer, Colin B , and I are the four on night 
 
 duty here, and very nice it is. Much harder work, as the 
 Americans for some reason have no probationers, and 
 although the Singer boys do a certain amount by day, 
 nine tenths of the work of day probationers is left for us. 
 So we have not much time to sit, although just now the 
 ward is light. Munsey is a delightful ward to be in — it 
 looks ghostly at night, and certainly very warlike, with 
 phantom flags hanging, and one dim light high up. There 
 are three big anthracite stoves down the middle, with arm- 
 chairs beside them — sometimes we sit there and some- 
 times in our little sitting-room. I have acquired the " night 
 nurse's cat-nap," and can sleep sitting up and hear every 
 sound. 
 
 The other probationer, Colin B , is a very good little 
 
 sort. She thought that because I am senior pro. 1 would 
 make her do all the dirty work, and was touchingly de-
 
 ENGLAND 31 
 
 lighted to find that I am not that kind! We have very jolly 
 midnight suppers, which we cook ourselves — and the 
 night watchman washes up. It is her and my work to cook, 
 but we are neither of us very brilliant at it, so Sister Vera 
 has been coming to the kitchen to show us. It seemed very 
 odd at first to be back in the same kitchen where 1 was in 
 charge during that first week — but now in such a difi'erent 
 way, no responsibility, and lots of fun. I have learned to 
 make very good coffee. 
 
 Probationers on night duty have a far less picturesque 
 time than on day duty. Sister Vera laughs heartily when 
 she sees me doing some unpleasant job, and asks me how 
 I like "nursing the wounded." It is all splendid experience 
 
 — every pro. in every hospital has to learn. From the 
 time the lights go on until 8, washings and breakfasts and 
 tidying — the usual rush to get through — 1 just set my 
 teeth — it is anything but gay, feeling a vacuum that no 
 amount of eating can prevent. It is the real morning feel- 
 ing, without which no night nurse is complete! 
 
 One disadvantage of night duty is that one has very 
 little chance of getting to know the men. Lights are out 
 and all is quiet at 8 in the evening, just when we come on 
 
 — and the morning hours are not those best adapted to 
 getting talks with them. We are none of us at our best, 
 nurses or patients, from 6 to 8 in the morning! However, 
 one does a certain amount of talking with those to whom
 
 32 /;V THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 one feels attracted — and I am collecting their experiences, 
 written by themselves in a little book. Some write poetry 
 — or sketch very cleverly. They are very chary of talking 
 of their real feelings or experiences. I think that the Brit- 
 ish Tommies' idea of highest bravery — apart from some 
 brilliant sort of feat which wins a V.C. — is to grin at 
 everything, make tea under fire with scraps of earth from 
 the shells landing in their cups, and march to meet the 
 Germans singing "Tipperary." I am sorry I can't tell 
 you interesting things about men at the front, and their 
 feelings. The British Tommy has n't much to say about 
 his feelings — bless him! All they say is that they have n't 
 any feelings — except that when they are charging, they 
 see red. All the horrors of war seem very impersonal, ac- 
 cording to their account. I know men who have gone on 
 fighting for ages after they were shot. They say that they 
 feel something hot and find it is blood, and that 's how they 
 discover that they are wounded. Brown told us that a few 
 minutes before he was hit, they were killing themselves 
 laughing at the Germans — who could n't find the range. 
 When at last they found it, poor Brown found he could n't 
 walk. 
 
 We have a man in Munsey who got shot in six places in 
 one day — shoulder, head, arm, thigh, and both knees. 
 The arm wound is a very curious one, for the bullet entered 
 at the shoulder and passed out at the elbow without touch-
 
 ENGLAND 33 
 
 ing the bone! Another man had a bullet enter the elbow 
 and pass out at the hand, also not touching the bone; but 
 in that case, the nerve is injured, and his hand is partly 
 paralyzed. He suffers much from neuritis. One man saw 
 the back of another's head blown off, right up into the air, 
 leaving him standing there for a second with only a face. 
 No wonder that sometimes they have nightmare, and that 
 some of them can't sleep. They love hot milk — it sends 
 them off quicker than anything. We are giving it all night 
 long. 
 
 Sister Vera has made me responsible for the dressing at 
 midnight of our worst case — a Yorkshireman, with a 
 badly fractured femur, and the doctors are most interested 
 in his case. The American nurses on day duty said he was 
 rude to them, but I think it is because they don't under- 
 stand the English way of dealing with this class of men. 
 The Yorkshireman is very docile with Sister Vera and us. 
 He had no manners, and said "Yes" and "No" to her. 
 She smiled graciously at him and said, " How about ' Yes, 
 thank you, Sister? ' " He said it, and has be-thanked and 
 be-Sistered her ever since. 
 
 I think I have already told you that all the horrors of 
 the Germans' behavior are true — countless men tell us 
 that a baby spiked onto a door with a bayonet was a com- 
 mon sight. One does n't like to ask, for fear of what one 
 will hear.
 
 34 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Munsey Ward, December 23, 19 14 
 We got in a new lot of eighty wounded a week ago, 
 and many old ones have gone out. Sixteen left from Mun- 
 sey this morning, and tonight at "breakfast" we heard 
 that a new lot were arriving on the instant. We got 
 20 of them here in Munsey, Three were fractured femurs, 
 all packed in huge wooden splints from shoulder to heel. 
 One man, a Scotchman of the Black Watch, has been eight 
 weeks in hospital at Boulogne with both legs fractured — 
 a shocking condition after eight weeks. Such a nice, sandy- 
 haired man he is, and he does not say a word, but one can 
 see he is anxious about it — small wonder. On my side 
 of the ward there is also a nice boy about twenty, who will 
 never use his right arm again. The shoulder is badly 
 fractured and they had to take out the top of the humerus, 
 as well as lots of small bits of bone. He has been very help- 
 less, but much better now. He has an egg, always scram- 
 bled, for his breakfast — I do it and take it to him myself 
 — he does enjoy it, and I would n't miss his smile for 
 anything. Another pathetic case is a man who was blown 
 fifty feet into the air, by an exploding shell which killed 
 the two men next him. You can imagine what condition 
 his nerves are in. He talks constantly in his sleep of 
 France and Belgium. 
 
 We all are upset over the shelling of Scarborough — and 
 the terrible loss of women's and babies' lives. It brings
 
 ENGLAND 35 
 
 it all so near home. Of course, here in little Paignton even 
 there are no lights allowed on or near the sea-front. One 
 afternoon when I walked to have tea with friends at 
 Torquay, I had to grope my way along. We have strict 
 orders here to veil all our lights as much as possible. 
 
 It is my week at the bathrooms now. Colin B and 
 
 I turn and turn about with it all — bathrooms, the huge 
 daily pile of laundry, etc., etc. Since the aeroplanes came, 
 some of the night nurses are nervous about lights in the 
 lavatories, as their roofs are of glass! I said to Sister Vera 
 tonight that if the German aeroplanes come and drop a 
 bomb on me there, at least my mother will have the 
 
 satisfaction of knowing that I died at my post 
 
 doing unpleasant jobs ! ! 
 
 I really like night duty, and although I can come off at 
 New Year, having then done two months of it, 1 am medi- 
 tating asking Matron to keep me on a bit longer. 1 am 
 awfully well and sleep gloriously — night duty is far less 
 tiring physically — it has been a comparative rest-cure. 
 When we come off duty Sister Vera and I take a walk 
 through the gardens for twenty minutes or so, after our 
 morning dinner, and then 1 sleep the sleep of honest toil 
 until 1 am called at 6 p.m. 
 
 1 can't realize that the day after tomorrow is Christmas. 
 1 shall think of you, and shall send you a cable tomorrow. 
 We are busy, in odd minutes, making gauze stockings for
 
 36 /N THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 our two hundred men — each one will contain fruit, jam, 
 tobacco, etc., and an individual present from the Com- 
 mittee. 
 
 December 2^, 19 14 
 
 Such a busy Christmas Eve as we had, hanging all 
 
 the men's stockings. Then Colin B and I went to 
 
 midnight mass — just in uniform and coats, as the little 
 church is only ten minutes from our gates. After getting 
 back, we had supper, and one of the doctors brought some 
 
 port. B and I decorated the table and it looked sweet 
 
 — and we had the British and American flags. 
 
 Such a nice Christmas morning — we night nurses got 
 the first flush of it all, and I would not have missed it for 
 worlds. You should have heard the shouts when I turned 
 the lights on at 6 a.m. and they saw their stockings. They 
 entered gloriously into the spirit of it, and the big ward 
 rang with " Merry Christmases!" They were not allowed 
 to open the stockings before seven, but some of them did, 
 and were delighted with the strongly scented soap which 
 each one got! They insisted on using it instead of their 
 ordinary soap. They also got jam, cigarettes, tobacco, 
 Christmas cards from Matron, etc., etc., and each a hand- 
 some silver cigarette-case from the Committee, all just 
 alike, with small American and British flags, raised, on 
 the lid. They all feel that they will never forget their
 
 •71 
 
 < 
 
 Z 
 
 z 
 
 ■J
 
 ENGLAND 37 
 
 Christmas here. At the evening concert in Munsey — 
 where we night nurses arrived in time for the very end of 
 it — they cheered the Americans loudly. Later in the 
 evening, about thirty choir boys came and sang carols to 
 the men in the wards — lovely carols they were. 
 
 Our Christmas has been perfect. Every one, from the 
 patients to the maidservants, declared that they never 
 had so happy a one. The men loved it all, and were as 
 jolly as school-boys. 
 
 Sister Vera and I received Christmas cards from our 
 friends in Churchill — Brown, Donnaghy, and others. 
 
 December 27, 1914 
 
 Yesterday — Boxing Day — there was a Christmas 
 dinner in the evening for the whole nursing staff in the 
 marble hall — seventy-one of us. It seemed odd to go to a 
 formal dinner in cap and apron! 
 
 You know how undemonstrative the British Tommies 
 are — I made a point of asking a lot of them how they 
 liked their stockings, just to see what they would answer. 
 Their almost universal reply was, "It's all right, Sister," 
 which is the highest praise they are capable of giving. 
 No. 20, the boy I told you of, was writing in my book, and 
 I found that he had put only a few conventional lines, 
 dates, etc. I happened to know that he had been sixteen 
 weeks without a bath, until, during the retreat from Mons,
 
 38 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 he and some others managed to get baths in a horse-trough ; 
 also that after wearing one shirt almost the same number 
 of weeks he got a woman's blouse, which he wore until he 
 was wounded. So I made him put a postscript and write 
 those things in. My book is going to be a treasure, with 
 sketches, and whenever possible, a photograph taken by 
 me of each man along with what he has written. Many 
 nurses have books, but no one will have the photographs 
 but me! 
 
 I will keep on trying to get the men's impressions for you, 
 in driblets. Am so glad you are coming on the 23d — 
 don't put it off again! 
 
 Tuesday, January 5, 191 5, 2 a.m. 
 
 Had only three hours' sleep today, and in the even- 
 ing one hundred new patients came. They arrived at about 
 9.30, and we had three hours' hard work before we could 
 think of sitting down for a bite of supper at i o'clock. 
 Am I tired! ! — This lot of men are not all straight from the 
 front. They have nearly all been a week or more in hospi- 
 tal at Boulogne — nevertheless they are very tired, di- 
 sheveled, and dirty. The doctors are disappointed at the 
 lack of interesting surgical cases at present — of course 
 
 they want good operations. Dr. H made us laugh 
 
 tonight by his disgust over one of his wards, where out of 
 eight cases new tonight, seven are frost-bite!
 
 ENGLAND 39 
 
 It is an interesting moment when they first come in — 
 one has a chance to talk with them while helping get 
 them to bed, and packing up their filthy clothes. There is 
 a most fetching Gordon Highlander on my side of the ward 
 who kept us all laughing. He had a huge knife in his 
 pocket with enormous blades, and a sort of spike for splicing 
 rope, which latter, he told me, the Germans use for finish- 
 ing off their enemies, by sticking it into the temple, it v/as 
 tied into his pocket on a dirty cord, and has been all 
 through the war with him — he presented it to me. An- 
 other man gave me a bone spoon which he found in one of 
 the German trenches. 
 
 Tuesday, 1 1 p.m. 
 
 Could not finish this morning — I was so tired! At 
 5 A.M., sitting over our tea, I fell dead asleep for five min- 
 utes. With every new lot of patients, the first morning is 
 hard — for one does not know how much one has to do in 
 the given time from 6 to 8. There are also the diets, and the 
 eggs to cook before 7.1 5. Sister Vera is a splendid trainer 
 of probationers — when you think you have got all you 
 can possibly do in a given time, she gives you something 
 more, and you find you can do that too! Having to do is a 
 fine master. With every new lot of patients, the first 
 nights are very busy, as the men are restless, and most of 
 them have coughs also. They often talk in their sleep —
 
 40 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 and last night, one man kept shouting, " I see him — I see 
 him!!" 
 
 Am sitting out in the ward as I write, at the Head 
 Sister's desk, between two red screens, Hstening for calls 
 and giving hot milk. The head case I spoke of is very bad 
 — he is on my side of the ward. He is quite young — and 
 will probably be blind in both eyes, for the bullet went in 
 one eye and out behind the other. He suffers terribly and 
 is completely unstrung. He loves a bit of fussing and 
 begged me to talk with him this morning. We all baby 
 him a lot. Tonight he broke down completely and sat up 
 in bed sobbing, and begging to have his bandage taken off. 
 He kept saying, "Oh, God, help me to bear my pain." 
 He had morphia, the dressing changed, and hot drinks, 
 and I have been waiting on him all night long. Every few 
 minutes he sits up and calls for me, and simply clings to 
 one's hand like a baby. It wrings one's heart — for there 
 is no chance, the doctor tells me, of his ever seeing daylight 
 again — and only twenty. 
 
 Thursday, January 7, 191 5 
 
 Colin B and I have to make rounds every hour 
 
 all night: she at nine, I at ten, she at eleven, and so on. 
 One gets quite a ward memory — able to come back and 
 report to Sister Vera which ones out of all the sixty-seven 
 men are awake — and why. I have one half of the ward
 
 ENGLAND 41 
 
 — thirty-three beds — and she the other half. I am in 
 charge also of all the special breakfast diets for the whole 
 ward. 
 
 There is a very interesting case on my side of the ward 
 
 — a great care too — a man with a fractured femur and 
 colitis. We now have four fractured femurs in Munsey 
 and they all have the long splint extension on their legs, 
 with weights, and the bed very much tipped up. Lots of 
 the men have learned to knit to pass the time — and are 
 quite good at the mufflers. 
 
 \ Don't despair of me, as regards getting the opinion of the 
 men on the war and things. But you would never believe 
 how impossible it is to screw a general opinion out of them. 
 Their own individual experiences they can tell, some more 
 than others, of course — though all need drawing out. 1 
 have scarcely yet met a man who could say anything worth 
 writing down about things in general. And the doctors 
 tell me that they find it the same. This is not hard to un- 
 derstand, when you realize that even the officers don't 
 know what they are doing. As for the Tommies, they have 
 no idea of anything beyond how many miles they marched 
 in a day, or how many weeks they went without a bath, 
 or how many hours they lay wounded before they were 
 found. During our hours on night duty, they are awake 
 only from 6 to 8 in the morning — a period of horrible rush 
 for me. If I ever do linger to talk to one of them, it is with
 
 42 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 a hunted feeling and one eye on the clock. Here in Old- 
 way, we have no officers — only the Tommies. 
 
 I shall have to stop now — it is nearly 3. My blind boy 
 is sleeping better tonight, but wakes up often, and each 
 time is nearly crying with nerves and pain, and has to be 
 soothed. 1 1 is important, for the sake of the other men, too, 
 that he should not make a noise and wake up those who are 
 near him. I give him cocoa and a cigarette, and have to 
 stay while he smokes it — as he might set his dressing 
 alight. He clings to one's hand, and keeps murmuring, 
 "Thank you. Sister." 
 
 Munsey is delightful at night. It is very fresh — we 
 have the top of every window and the huge big end door 
 open all night. There are red screens to shield the men 
 who are near the doors, and they all have extra blankets. 
 A corporal, who draws very cleverly and calls himself 
 " the untamed artist," has done a sketch of me as " fresh- 
 air fiend" — opening doors and windows — and himself 
 sitting up in bed sneezing. 
 
 You would not approve of our chief diet these days — it 
 is constantly pig ! Either ham, bacon, or sausages — until it 
 has become a joke amongst us. I suppose it is for economy. 
 
 January 15, 191 5 
 
 Dr. S did several very interesting operations, 
 
 giving Sister Vera and me permission to come and see
 
 ENGLAND 43 
 
 them. One was the eye case of which I have been writing, 
 you. One eye was collapsed and had to be taken out, as 
 the bullet had passed through. 
 
 Dr. S tells me that the chance is practically nil 
 
 of the hemorrhage clearing in the other eye. The boy 
 does not know the danger that he may never see again, 
 and I dread unspeakably the day when he will have to 
 be told. He is a dear lad — only twenty — and never 
 got even a scratch until this bullet before Christmas. 
 He nearly went mad for a week in France — and was 
 in a terrible mental condition when he got to us. We 
 have got him ever so much better now, and fairly quiet. 
 He keeps saying in the most pathetic way, "I'd sleep 
 if I could, Sister — you know I 'd sleep if I could." He 
 is a Cockney and they use the word "proper" in such 
 an odd way. He constantly says, "It's properly paining 
 me. Sister," and, "It's a proper bad eye. Sister." He 
 used to ask when he would be able to open the other eye, 
 but since the operation he has been too ill to care. It was 
 very septic. Morphia has very little effect, and they don't 
 like to give him much. He was very bad last night and 
 suffered terribly. When I was giving him a drink of hot 
 cocoa, he put his poor head on my shoulder and said, " I 
 wish I had never seen the army, Sister." He has no family 
 and his home in London is with the mother of his sweetheart, 
 Violet, whose name is tattooed on his arm. I asked him all
 
 44 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 about her, and four or five days ago Violet's mother was 
 given a pass to come down and see him. It occurred to me 
 how nice if Violet could come, too, to be here for his opera- 
 tion. I found it was only the expense which prevented, 
 so as Sue had just sent me some money from Boston to be 
 spent for the patients as I thought best, I put the matter 
 in the hands of the Bureau, and the next afternoon Violet 
 arrived — just eighteen — and exactly the quiet, sweet, 
 nice sort of girl I hoped she would be, for without his eyes 
 he will need her. I asked him the first night if he were glad 
 to see her, and he said, " If I only could see her. Sister!" 
 I have written Sue how much happiness the first twenty- 
 one shillings of her present have given. They were here 
 four days. Violet works in a draper's shop. Both were 
 
 most grateful. 
 
 Some other friends have also sent me money for my 
 cases, and I have been able to help a number of them, for 
 we are by way of hearing and knowing as no committee of 
 outsiders could possibly do. There are two men going out 
 before long, each of them with a leg two inches or so shorter 
 than the other. They are anxious to have a special boot 
 in order to avoid appearing lame. They need n't have 
 been so lame, had we had them straight from the front — 
 but after stopping in hospitals in France on the way, there 
 is n't the same chance to put them right. I am going to 
 buy boots for both of them. It will mean a lot to them. 
 One of them, poor fellow, was a jockey!
 
 ENGLAND 45 
 
 Bob went out in the Scots Guards and was wounded — 
 shot in the face early in January — during a charge near 
 La Bassee. The other officers were shot down, so he had to 
 take command — and he went on until he fainted from 
 loss of blood. His mother wrote that eyes, nose, and 
 mouth escaped, and later he wrote me himself that soon 
 he should have nothing to show for his trouble! In answer 
 to my question what he thought of the front, he writes, 
 
 "It is not all jam, and for my part I think it's 
 
 dangerous!" 
 
 January 2], igi^. 2.30 a.m. 
 
 A bad throat is rampaging here, and Matron is 
 nearly wild — she is so short-handed. I am well and hope 
 to escape — for I should hate to break my four-months 
 record. The weather is appalling now — constant rain, and 
 we get used to going to walk in the wet just as if it were 
 fine — otherwise one would never go out at all! 
 
 Ever so many patients have gone out — only twenty- 
 nine now in Munsey — but we shall soon be filled up again. 
 Sometimes a man tries to fake illness, in order to stay 
 on. It is called malingering — one who went today tried 
 that, but it was no good. They succeeded better under the 
 English doctors! We got a sailor with our last lot of 
 patients — sent to us by mistake! — our first sailor and 
 probably the last. They intended sending him on to a
 
 46 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 naval hospital, but he made such rapid progress that it 
 was n't worth while. He is a most entertaining man, and 
 has a marvellous collection of war trophies from the front, 
 including a Prussian helmet which he took from an officer 
 shot by himself. He belongs to the little band of seventy — 
 all gunners — chosen from a man-of-war, to man the naval 
 armored trains in Belgium. That is how a sailor happened 
 to be fighting on land — and it is the first time it has 
 happened. His cap band is very interesting for that reason 
 — with the letters H.M.N.A.T. Jellicoe (His Majesty's 
 Naval Armored Train Jellicoe). And he has a medal, given 
 by the Belgians, with a picture of the train. Each train is 
 composed of three gun carriages, two powder magazines, 
 and an engine at each end. They run right up to the firing- 
 line, and can accomplish a lot, beside being able to get 
 away quickly. He has worked hard in the ward — since 
 he was better — and is a very handy man. Nearly all 
 soldiers are — they make beds and cook and sweep far 
 better than many women — they are so neat and thorough. 
 
 Sir William Osier was here yesterday inspecting the 
 hospital and he very kindly inquired for me. After dinner 
 
 Dr. S brought him over to Munsey to see me. I was 
 
 out in the kitchen teaching a new probationer, with my 
 sleeves rolled up — but flew to the sitting-room just as 
 I was. 
 
 One of the most intelligent men in the ward is a lad of
 
 ENGLAND 47 
 
 twenty, a corporal. He was making a charge in command 
 of thirty men when he got shot. He talks most interest- 
 ingly about the war and things in general, and voices the 
 British Tommy very well in a general way. He says they 
 are all in sympathy with the war, and glad to have a go 
 at the Germans. Also that nothing could be better than 
 the way in which it is all managed. He said they get nearly 
 as good food at the front as here in the hospital, except 
 when actually in the trenches — and even then it is not 
 bad, although water is often terribly scarce. Also that the 
 transportation of the wounded back from the front is 
 wonderfully done. 
 
 1 asked a big Seaforth Highlander whether he wanted 
 to go back. He said, " I don't wish to be like those swank- 
 ers who say they want to — I'd rather not"; then he got 
 very red and added — "But I don't mind." They all 
 ridicule the idea of wanting to go back — and say no sane 
 man could. In that respect this war is different from any 
 other there has ever been. The men all say, "This is n't 
 war — it's murder." Most of them are very glad if they 
 can be honorably discharged as physically unfit. 
 
 January 25, 191 5 
 Great changes here — everybody has been moved 
 — and I go back to day duty in Paget Ward. I shall be 
 jorry to leave Munsey, for I have been happy here and
 
 48 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 had some very jolly times. Dr. H , the head of the 
 
 second Unit, said he had never seen anything so fine as 
 the way Sister Vera runs the ward and us — such strict 
 discipline and work always first, and yet we manage to 
 have a good time. 
 
 You can't think what it is at night here now — no lights 
 — black — and even the trams running between Paignton 
 and Torquay are dark, only a small light the size of a 
 bicycle lamp. ... A terrible thing happened last night in 
 Torquay — a sentry challenged two Territorial officers 
 driving a car. They played the fool and would not answer 
 properly, and he shot them. One was killed and the other 
 wounded — it makes us feel very near the front. 
 
 Paget Ward, January 26 
 
 I came on day duty in Paget today, and think I 
 am going to like it well. There are some interesting cases. 
 One man was hit by a hand grenade. He has sixty-seven 
 wounds — all on his head, his back, and arms. One arm 
 is terrible — all the flesh gone — only the two bones 
 left and a hole between. The flesh is slowly growing in 
 around, but it looks like the pictures of the famine in 
 India. 
 
 The worst case in Paget — much talked of — is inde- 
 scribably awful. The man was shot through the leg — 
 and got the new gas gangrene germ just discovered at the
 
 ENGLAND 49 
 
 front, and so rare that they know nothing about it yet. 
 He is one of the first men back in England who has it. His 
 leg is in an awful condition, pouring pus. He will probably 
 lose it, and they say he may die at any time. It is dreadful 
 to see how he suffers when moved — he screams with pain, 
 and it takes five of us to change his draw-sheet. The stench 
 of his dressings fills even this big ward. It is most infectious 
 and we are more than careful. 
 
 There is a priceless Gobelin tapestry on the wall of 
 Paget. It is solidly attached to the back side of David's 
 great painting of Napoleon, which faces on the stairway. 
 Together they form a curtain which, when Paget — the 
 ballroom — was used as a theater, could be lowered into 
 the floor without rolling. The guests sat in the marble 
 gallery — where we had our Christmas dinner — looking 
 across over the grand staircase into Paget, which formed 
 the stage. 
 
 February 6, 1 9 1 5 
 
 Your wire and letter from Liverpool received — and 
 I am expecting you here on the 8th. I told our one and only 
 sailor about your narrow escape from German submarines 
 — and he was thrilled to hear of the Baltic being protected 
 by eight destroyers and two dreadnoughts! He talked 
 most interestingly about submarines in the English Chan- 
 nel. When they see a floating keg which seems to be drift-
 
 50 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 ing "against the wash," they know that it conceals the 
 periscope of a submarine! 
 
 Matron says 1 may have two weeks with you in London 
 about February 25. I have just let my cottage to Major 
 S and his wife, for a month or two. 
 
 February 13, 1915 
 
 The operation done by Dr. S , just after you left, 
 
 was most interesting. It was the first time that the new 
 telephone apparatus for locating bullets and metal sub- 
 stances has been used here. It is quite a new thing, in- 
 vented here in England some years ago, but only just per- 
 fected for practical use. It is simple to look at — a wire 
 attached to the instrument, and the operating doctor and 
 one other man wear metal head-bands with a sort of tele- 
 phone ear-pieces. When the instrument touches bone 
 there is no sound, but when it touches metal there is a click. 
 This case which I saw was a bullet deeply embedded in the 
 bone of a man's shoulder — and they were able to get it 
 out much sooner, and with a much smaller incision, than 
 they otherwise could. It was most interesting to see — 
 and four of the American nurses were there to watch, as 
 well as Sister Vera and myself. 
 
 The little Scotchman is getting on well — you remember 
 seeing him. No. 13 in Munsey, and that I had written you 
 how bad he had been. He has been out in a wheel chair.
 
 ENGLAND 51 
 
 I took a photograph the other day of the doctor doing 
 his dressing, irrigating his leg, with a nurse at each side 
 of his bed. He is very proud of it and wants numerous 
 copies for his friends. There is a nice little fair-haired boy 
 in Munsey, only twenty, who came to us packed in a 
 wooden frame, with a badly fractured leg and other 
 wounds. He was wounded and pinned down by other 
 bodies, and thinking he heard some Belgians coming, he 
 called. But they were Germans — and they bayoneted 
 him again — giving him his worst wound. He pretended 
 to be dead and they left him — and he lay from Tuesday 
 to Friday before he was found, with his leg pinned down, 
 and his haversack with food within sight, but out of reach. 
 He said he took good care, before he called again, that it 
 was really Belgians that time. Poor boy — he was looking 
 forward to getting home to see his sweetheart, and today 
 he had news that she has married somebody else. When I 
 saw him this morning he was white as death — but pre- 
 tending he did n't care. 
 
 February 16, 191 5 
 
 Nearly a week since you were here! Your gramo- 
 phone is the delight of Paget Ward — you could n't have 
 given anything nicer. It goes from daybreak to bedtime, 
 and we interchange records with the other wards. 
 
 I did feel freshened by your visit here, and the motoring
 
 52 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 — and am much looking forward to my two weeks in 
 London with you. Matron says I can go about February 
 25. She thinks I have earned my time oflF — and so do I ! 
 I have been here exactly five months yesterday, and have 
 not been off duty for one hour through illness! Everybody 
 is ill now with bad colds and influenza, and my head nurse 
 is in bed. 
 
 My blind boy was taken to London by Dr. S today 
 
 to see an eye specialist. I went over to Munsey this morn- 
 ing to say good-bye to him. Later he came to Paget, in 
 khaki, to say good-bye again — and Sister Scott photo- 
 graphed me with him. Mrs. Burns was very interested in 
 his case, and if he does not get perfectly all right she is 
 going to see that arrangements are made for him for 
 life. 
 
 I have heard the details about Major G being 
 
 wounded. He went out to France as staff officer to General 
 X , and was sent with a very important verbal mes- 
 sage, and was badly shot in the leg and thigh. They picked 
 him up for dead and threw him on a cart filled with bodies. 
 Suddenly he startled the bicycle riders beside the cart, by 
 sitting up and repeating aloud his message in delirium. 
 So they took him to a hospital and his father went 
 out to bring him home. He has been specially men- 
 tioned in Sir John French's despatches and is to get the 
 D.S.O.
 
 ENGLAND 53 
 
 You know that several of the orderHes are Belgian boys. 
 Ours in Paget was at the front, but cannot return there, 
 so he and his family came to England. He is quite an edu- 
 cated lad and a splendid worker. 1 talk French with him, 
 to the delight of his soul. Not long ago his feelings were 
 wounded inadvertently by one of the nurses, and for days 
 he was in terrible distress — nearly ill over it. I tried to 
 find out what the matter was, knowing it could be only 
 some misunderstanding, but 1 could not make him tell me. 
 He kept saying, "When a Belgian says no, it is No" — 
 and 1 rather admired him for his reserve. 
 
 I have just had a letter from W , who, as I think I 
 
 told you, refused a commission last autumn and joined 
 the ranks. He writes that his family left him no peace 
 and that he has now accepted a commission in the 5th 
 West Blanks, who are likely to go abroad soon. He says 
 he loved the experience of the ranks, and made many 
 friends. He was sorry to leave them and said he could 
 have fought beside them with a stout heart, as what 
 they lacked in education they made up in nobility of 
 character. 
 
 Another oflficer asked me the other day why I am glad 
 to nurse Tommies rather than officers. 1 have many rea- 
 sons — but the one I gave him was that the men are such 
 obedient patients — they are taught to look on the young- 
 est and most inexperienced nurse as their superior officer,
 
 54 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 and obey her slightest word implicitly. I have heard 
 that officers when convalescent are most tiresome, getting 
 up too soon, and disobeying orders generally. I know that 
 
 B got a relapse from just that. Tommy Atkins is very 
 
 easy to manage. The only time I ever had any difficulty 
 was one evening when I was left in charge of the ward for 
 a few minutes, as the Sisters had to go to a meeting. It 
 was just the men's bedtime — 8 p.m. Some of them were 
 in an uproarious mood, tearing about — some on crutches 
 — playing hide and seek, and making a lot of noise. It is 
 hard enough at best to get them to go to bed and quiet 
 down when they are all convalescent — but this time it 
 looked next to impossible. I managed it by appealing to 
 their sense of chivalry — that if they did n't, it would get 
 me into trouble more than them. 
 
 We were speaking of the numbers of men wounded in 
 the eyes and forehead during the early part of the war — 
 and now the new periscopes for the trenches are making 
 a difference. Only the top shows over the edge of the 
 trench — and there are mirrors which reflect below, so 
 that the officers need not put their heads above the edge. 
 If the bullet hits the periscope, it only breaks the glass, 
 and they put another in. These periscopes are not fur- 
 nished by the War Office, but are sent out to the officers 
 by their friends. 
 
 Our fine big Seaforth Highlander is miserable today —
 
 ENGLAND 55 
 
 his uniform has come, and it is not his own kilt, and the 
 coat is far too small, his great hands are miles out of the 
 cuffs! He is six feet two, and his name is Ronald Banner- 
 man. He was describing the different kilts to me — the 
 Gordon and Cameron Highlanders, and the Black Watch. 
 They all wear khaki aprons while at the front. And he 
 says that the kilt is really more comfortable than trousers 
 in the trenches — and that this war is proving it. When 
 trousers are wet above the knee, the underclothing is wet 
 as well — but the kilts don't touch them as much, and 
 their knees dry off. 
 
 Casey, our Irish lad with a bullet in his brain, is not 
 right — yet full of charm at times. He is paralyzed all 
 down one side, but is better now, and can stump about the 
 ward with a stick. He is difficult to manage, and when he 
 is annoying he is unsurpassed! But now I have him in the 
 hollow of my hand — for he wants copies of photographs 
 which I have taken of him, and of the ward. And I have 
 made them a reward for good behavior. He used always 
 to refuse to go to bed — but now he goes like a lamb at 
 my bidding. If he ever forgets, I just say, "Oh, Casey, 
 what a pity if you don't get those pictures" — and that's 
 enough. 
 
 Here are verses which were written by a Tommy and 
 copied in my book for me by No. 26. He said they had 
 been printed in a local country paper: —
 
 56 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 LITTLE AND CONTEMPTIBLE 
 
 I used ter be a "Brickie" till I joined and took the 
 
 bob, 
 I was reckoned quite a terror dahn our street, 
 'Cos me fists were fairly useful wiv a rough and tumble 
 
 mob. 
 Wot were n't averse ter scrappin' wiv ther feet. 
 An' the fellers in my Reg'ment say I'm pretty useful 
 
 still, 
 Tho' me fists is graspin' trenchin' tool and gun. 
 So 1 've only one ambition — ter meet Mr. Kaiser Bill, 
 And dot 'im several wunners on the bun. 
 
 For I 'm " little and contemptible" — bofe me and Gen'ral 
 
 French, 
 It's official — Bill the Kaiser tole us so. 
 
 But you wait till I 'm in Berlin, 
 
 Then you'll see 'is whiskers curlin' — 
 I'm "little and contemptible" — Wot 'o! 
 
 It's true I 've never 'ad the chaunce o' sneakin' any loot, 
 
 And 1 don't suppose 1 'd do it if I could. 
 
 (You can larf) but on me savy, tho' I looks an 'ulkin' 
 
 brute — 
 They never seen me pinchin' fmgs — (touch wood!)
 
 ENGLAND 57 
 
 An' 1 never fired a Church, shot a woman, nor a kid, 
 
 Nor stuck a wounded soldier from behind. 
 
 So I dessay Bilham's right — caliin' me the names 'e 
 
 does — 
 An' of all the lot there's only two I mind. 
 
 I'm "little and contemptible" — bofe me and Gen'ral 
 
 French, 
 But love-a-duck it puzzles me ter see, 
 
 'E says 'e's Gawd's anointed. 
 
 But it sounds a bit disjointed — 
 U I'm "little and contemptible," wot's 'e! 
 
 Oldway House, Paignton 
 March 17, 1915 
 
 When I got back from London on Sunday afternoon 
 at 3, 1 found a new lot of patients just arriving, so 1 went 
 to Matron and volunteered to go on duty at once — instead 
 of the next morning. And at 4 o'clock I was back in Paget 
 helping to install a new lot of tired and dirty men. 
 There are several changes here — a new probationer 
 
 whom I am training in, and Dr. H back here for a short 
 
 time, although returning soon to Belgium for good. Dr. 
 
 R left yesterday for Pau. Sister Vera has written to the 
 
 War Office, and received her papers to fill out. By the way, 
 we have got to be inoculated here for enteric, or else we
 
 58 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 shall not be allowed near a typhoid case. So I have put 
 my name down, and it will be already done if I do get a 
 chance to go abroad. 
 
 March 20, 191 5 
 
 Edwardes, the gangrenous germ case, returned to 
 us in Paget a few days ago — ever so much better, and 
 looking a diflFerent creature. But he had been through so 
 much that his nerves were all to bits — he still shrieked 
 when moved, and made a fearful fuss over his dressings, 
 shaking all over and crying. Returning to a big ward after 
 being so long alone has taken him out of himself, and he is 
 quieting down in spite of himself. In that way he is not at 
 all like a typical Tommy, who generally dislikes special 
 fuss and attention, and is very glad to become one of the 
 common herd again. When Mudie was so bad, we thought 
 he would perhaps go on being troublesome and demand 
 continued attention; but not a bit of it, he has been de- 
 lighted to get up and about. As soon as he possibly could, 
 he was out in the kitchen carrying plates for newcomers, 
 and he is dear with Edwardes, so kind and thoughtful of 
 him. We put Edwardes next to him, for the sake of the 
 stimulating moral effect that he would have on him. 
 
 Our Gobelin tapestry is covered over with green baize 
 again. 1 hear that some of the men lying opposite objected 
 to looking at it all day — so much for the Tommies' ap-
 
 ENGLAND 59 
 
 preciation of Art! I imagine, however, that it was covered 
 
 for hygienic reasons — being such a dust and germ collector. 
 
 Matron is giving to us four senior probationers blue and 
 
 white stripes for our left arms, to show that we have been 
 
 here six months. 
 
 March 23, 191 5 
 
 Lady B was here and asked me what your im- 
 pressions are now of work in London. 1 told her that you 
 very soon found that the Belgians' need faded to insignifi- 
 cance compared with the awful need of the Serbians. I 
 am giving up my hope of going to Serbia. H. has written 
 that 1 simply must not think of it — and I am hoping now 
 for Belgium, and am trying for a post in Dr. Depage's 
 hospital at La Panne, on the coast, twenty minutes from 
 the firing-line. They have three hundred beds now, and 
 must have twelve hundred by summer. There are diffi- 
 culties about getting into Belgium — and it was nice of 
 Mr. Page to write that the Embassy will help in any way 
 it can. it is useful to carry as many letters as possible. 
 
 March 31, 1915 
 
 Yesterday afternoon we got in a new lot of patients. 
 
 nearly a hundred. Almost all of them are from Neuve 
 
 Chapelle, and some are very bad. We all worked like 
 
 mad, so glad for real work again, and big dressings. 
 
 A terrible case among ours in Paget is a man whose
 
 6o IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 teeth, lower lip, and chin are shot entirely away. The jaw 
 bone is fractured, what remains of it, and he can't eat or 
 speak — we feed him through a long tube. He is on the 
 dangerous list. He is so patient, and tries to talk with his 
 eyes — like a dumb animal. 
 
 There are many wounded by hand grenades, which are 
 being used so much now. The men tell us that the Germans 
 throw them at the rate of thirty-five a minute. They say 
 that there are men about them — and then suddenly the 
 air is full of arms and legs — and there is no one there. 
 The doctors find gramophone needles and broken scissors 
 in the wounds. 
 
 The men tell us of their friendly feeling for individual 
 Germans. The trenches are so near that they can speak 
 across. Our men ask, "Which are you?" — and the an- 
 swer sometimes may be, "We're the Saxons — we don't 
 want to fight." And they make signs — " Don't shoot and 
 we won't!" Some of the last men tell us that they were 
 wounded by the English, who mistook them for Germans 
 after they had taken some German trenches. They said 
 that it was rather hard to be shot by their own friends. 
 
 Nothing is so marvellous as the cheerfulness of the fight- 
 ing men — in spite of the scarcity of ammunition. They 
 have names for all the difl'erent kinds of shells — "Artful 
 Archibald," "Whistling Rufus," "Morbid Montmorency," 
 etc., etc.
 
 ENGLAND 6i 
 
 We had our second inoculation last night — an incon- 
 venient time, as we don't want lame arms the next day or 
 two! The second dose is double the first — the third is the 
 same as the second. Mine is taking, but I have worked like 
 a galley slave all day, and not been troubled by it. My feet 
 are awfully bad — Paget floor is most trying, being the 
 ballroom. Last night and tonight 1 did n't know how to 
 hobble to Fernham, when 1 came off duty. 
 
 April 3, 191 5 
 
 Sir William Osier came in to examine two lung cases. 
 I was very glad of the chance to see him make an examina- 
 tion — he is wonderful. He told me that our lung cases, 
 with the bullets still in, are unusually interesting — 1 don't 
 know enough about it to understand why! 
 
 Matron was awfully nice when I told her that I wanted 
 to go to Belgium, and said that she would take me back 
 here at any time. She wants me to stay until the 18th, as 
 there is no senior probationer available to replace me in 
 
 Paget, until N returns from her week's holiday. As 
 
 there are only two trained nurses in Paget for the future, 
 they depend a great deal more on the senior probationers. 
 
 Mrs. T has written me a charming letter enclosing 
 
 a draft for the men — it was so good of her. The money 
 has come at just the right time, now that we have so many 
 needy and badly wounded patients.
 
 62 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 April 7, 191 5. 10 P.M. 
 I saw two operations today — a hernia case, where 
 ^ivo cuts several inches long were made in the abdomen — 
 very interesting. And then an appendix. They operated, 
 not knowing just what to expect, and found all sorts of 
 trouble. He was under the anaesthetic three hours, and 
 did not stand it at all well. They brought him back to 
 Paget in a critical condition and he had to be given oxygen. 
 Matron went to Sister Vera's room at 7 to ask if she 
 would "special" him through the night, saying that al- 
 though there were plenty to choose from, she would rather 
 have her do it than anybody — as it was so critical and 
 she wanted some one whose head was "absolutely bal- 
 anced." A great compliment to Sister Vera, was n't it? — 
 and she was very glad to do it. She was like a war horse 
 scenting battle! She had been on duty nearly all day, and 
 had no sleep — but did n't care a rap — as of course no 
 good nurse would. 
 
 April 8 
 
 He is all right this morning, good color, and every- 
 thing as it should be. 
 
 Aunt K has just sent me another five pounds for 
 
 the men — and 1 am delighted. The first I have been spend- 
 ing for their teeth — and for crutches. The Government 
 does not provide teeth, and the men are so grateful to have
 
 ENGLAND 63 
 
 them given, for they take a certain pride in their appear- 
 ance. There are at least half a dozen cases still waiting for 
 glass eyes. One is the man in Paget of whom 1 wrote — with 
 the eye gone, and a fractured wrist, and a rib wound now 
 healed. He lost three front teeth also, and the other day he 
 told me that he almost minded about his teeth the most of 
 all. I want him to be put right — and as 1 am leaving so 
 soon, 1 am arranging with Matron to use the remaining 
 money for those cases 1 speak of and others of the same 
 sort. When Colman, the jaw case, is healed up he will 
 need to be thoroughly overhauled by a dentist. 1 told hira 
 today that an American lady was going to have it done 
 for him. He was so pleased, and even achieved a faint 
 smile! 
 
 It is almost impossible to believe that I am going so 
 soon — and a great wrench it will be. 1 could not tear my- 
 self away for anywhere except Belgium or France — have 
 been here seven months on Thursday. 1 dread saying good- 
 bye to the men. Today I had a long talk with Edwardes 
 — and he has written a delightful account in my book of 
 his time at the front. One thing I think unusually inter- 
 esting — that while at Ypres — in the trenches — the 
 Germans were so near that he could hear distinctly the 
 officers trying to make the men charge, shouting, "Vor- 
 warts!" — and the men refusing, "Nein! Nein!" I told 
 Edwardes that I was going to Belgium — he looked very
 
 64 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 sorry, and said that he thought I should soon wish myself 
 back! 
 
 I shall be staying only a few days longer. Expect me in 
 London the 12th, and I hope to get to Belgium soon. 
 
 Much love — 
 
 Mary. 
 
 London, May 1, 1915 
 
 Dearest Aunt K 
 
 It is very wearisome waiting to be sent to La Panne, 
 but the shelling of Dunkirk does not bode well for our 
 speedy departure. We simply have to wait from day to 
 day, ready to start at short notice. The American Red 
 Cross doctors and nurses — of the two new Units, just 
 arrived from America — are waiting also in London. La 
 Panne is at present under shell fire — the King and Queen 
 have been headquartering there, an added reason, I sup- 
 pose, for the Germans to try to demolish it. But I hear 
 that just now they have been too near La Panne to be able 
 to get so short a range, and Dunkirk as you know has been 
 the victim. Many hospitals there are being evacuated. 
 
 In the meantime, I have been rather enjoying some free 
 time here in London — also getting my new uniforms for 
 La Panne, and the odds and ends necessary for the war 
 zone. The uniform is of dark blue, and we wear white 
 army caps. In order to get my certificate I had to take an
 
 ENGLAND 65 
 
 oral examination — in French — before five Belgian doc- 
 tors. A very trying ordeal, for it was really a stiff examina- 
 tion, with questions which would be, as Sister Vera said 
 afterward, asked of trained nurses in their third year. But 
 I got through somehow, and am now the proud possessor 
 of a certificate giving me "le droit deme mettre au service 
 de la Croix Rouge de Belgique en qualite d'infirmiere," 
 signed by all the doctors. 
 
 May 8, 191 5 
 
 Yesterday morning we went to Deptford, opposite Green- 
 wich on the river, to the big cattle market which the Gov- 
 ernment is now using for military work of all kinds. We 
 went especially to visit the department where all the Emer- 
 gency Rations for the whole British Army are packed — 
 little tin boxes, with biscuits and tea and sugar and cubes 
 of Ovo — which the men take into the trenches with them. 
 
 Lady Kathleen L is running it with marvellous system 
 
 and success. She has reduced expenses for the Govern- 
 ment, and at the same time increased the output, until 
 now she has on hand a large reserve of the "Iron Rations," 
 as they are called. It was most interesting, and we were 
 there the whole morning. She lives there — inside — her 
 brother being one of the officers in command of the Gov- 
 ernment works. Their quarters are in two quaint old 
 seventeenth century houses, and their mess looks out on
 
 66 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Evelyn's old garden — which would interest you very 
 much. His house has disappeared. Peter the Great learned 
 his trade there in the dockyard. 
 
 There were nine hundred girls in the Emergency Rations 
 Department, and they did Princess Mary's Christmas 
 present for the Army — a gilt box containing tobacco and 
 a pipe and a Christmas card, etc., with her picture on the 
 lid. The Queen and Princess Mary came out to see it done, 
 and enjoyed themselves very much, sending the different 
 articles along on the trolleys, and packing a box each. 
 
 Lady K and the others were wondering whether the 
 
 men really liked the boxes well enough to pay for all the 
 trouble and expense, but I said that I knew they did. At 
 Paignton our men treasured them long after the contents 
 were gone, and used to send the empty boxes home to their 
 wives or keep them carefully in their lockers. 
 
 May 28, 191 5 
 
 The Committee for the Belgian Refugee Fund, 
 which distributes food all over London and the neighbor- 
 hood, offered me a job to drive a motor-van for them to 
 carry food to Belgian hostels and families. And now 1 have 
 got a little second-hand runabout of my own, about thirty 
 horse-power, to use in that work — while I am waiting in 
 London, to get out to Belgium. Here is a post-card of it 
 and me. At first a trouble in the magneto made it almost
 
 z 
 
 c 
 c 
 z 
 
 o
 
 ENGLAND 67 
 
 impossible to crank — and I sometimes had to get taxi- 
 drivers to crank it for me, and even they often could n't 
 without great difficulty! . . . i drove Mrs. Parker one 
 afternoon to the Park for a review of six thousand volun- 
 teers from the different districts of London, with Sir 
 Francis Lloyd on horseback reviewing the procession. A 
 policeman let us inside the enclosure — the only car — on 
 account of her being Lord Kitchener's sister. I had to stop 
 my engine on account of the noise — and when the review 
 was over the fat Chief Constable undertook to crank it. 
 You can judge of his difficulties by the fact that when he 
 finally succeeded, the crowd outside all cheered! Mrs. P. 
 was much amused. 
 
 I was delighted to receive money from Mrs. H to be 
 
 used for my wounded, and today came five pounds from 
 Newport, given by a friend of Mrs. B . 
 
 June 18, 191 5 
 
 I have just had a wire from S , her favorite nephew 
 
 Jack killed in action in the Dardanelles, and I am going 
 down this afternoon. It is so awful now — every one has 
 lost some one. But the English women are wonderful — 
 you can't think how brave they are — it is their faces that 
 show! 
 
 Colin B has gone out to France with the St. John's 
 
 Ambulance Corps, and writes me from Staples, near
 
 68 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Boulogne, where she is living in tents. I only know where 
 she is because we had agreed, if she were at Boulogne, she 
 would mention "Bob" as having seen her off — if at 
 Wimereux "William" would have been the one — or at 
 Staples, "Edward"! 
 
 I am off to Belgium next week. I despaired of ever get- 
 ting there, and had applied for another job, deciding to 
 take the first thing that offered. Then the French, British, 
 and Belgian Red Crosses all sent for me within twenty-four 
 hours ! One wanted me to go immediately to the South of 
 
 France to the Vicomtesse de la P 's chateau near Ville- 
 
 franche, which is being turned by the French Government 
 into a three-hundred-bed hospital. The second was to go 
 with three others to Nevers to replace fully trained nurses 
 in one of Dr. H. G 's hospitals. Of course I chose Bel- 
 gium, as it is the front. 
 
 We met Dr. Hector Munro lately — also Mrs. Knocker^ 
 
 and Mr. G , members of his Motor Ambulance Corps 
 
 — and have been seeing a lot of him this last week. He 
 has been awfully kind, and is taking no end of trouble to 
 get me out there. He believes in women being near, and 
 says that men are dying daily for the lack of women 
 to nurse them. Also that men orderlies cannot fill their 
 place — but the British Government is immovable on the 
 
 * Now Baroness T'Serclaes, author of The Cellar-house of Pervyse. 
 (Editor's Note.)
 
 ENGLAND 69 
 
 subject. You have surely heard of Dr. Hector Munro and 
 his corps of half a dozen men and four girls, which he 
 took out to Belgium as soon as the war started. Lady 
 Dorothy Feilding, Cecil Dormer's sister-in-law, was one of 
 the four. They were decorated by King Albert, and there 
 has been more or less about them in the papers. They are 
 the only women allowed so near the firing-line — and they 
 go practically into the trenches to pick up wounded. 
 
 Another chance 1 might take — which I forgot to men- 
 tion — is to work under Mrs. Innes-Taylor. She is organ- 
 izing a big scheme for feeding the Belgian population — 
 driving a car, however, not nursing. 
 
 The other night while staying with R. in Lindfield we 
 motored up for dinner and a play, and supper after. We 
 never left London until quarter to one to motor a two- 
 hours run to Sussex. We were held up suddenly by patrols 
 as we were tearing along — they bellowed "Halt!" and 
 chased after us, six of them, and we expected to be shot 
 any minute! We had to tell where we came from and where 
 we were going — and it was quite like a pre-Victorian high- 
 way robbery, with dark, glowering faces peering in at us. 
 
 June 26, 1915 
 
 I am off on the 28th — wish me luck! 
 
 Much love, 
 
 Mary.
 
 II. BELGIUM
 
 Ambulance Jeanne d'Arc, Calais 
 June 28, 1915, 4 P.M. 
 
 Dearest little Mother: — 
 
 Here I am, safely over — after a rough crossing. 
 There were only a dozen soldiers on board — British and 
 Belgian — returning to the front — and I was the only 
 woman. The/z<s5 to get off from Folkestone, — armed with 
 passport — and forty permits and passes for going through 
 the Belgian lines! 
 
 Calais is so much more "different" than England — 
 everything very warlike and deserted. Very few women 
 about, and the streets desolation, and scarcely a man out 
 of uniform. The dear old Tommies make one feel at home. 
 I could n't get a cab at the pier, so walked, with a porter 
 carrying my bag, to the Place d'Armes — where I got a 
 cab and drove here. Calais is so picturesque, with the old 
 cobblestone and winding streets. My orders were to re- 
 port here and wait for one of the La Panne cars to pick 
 me up. La Panne is a two-hours run from here. 
 
 This hospital seems quite large, and I am writing in 
 somebody's office — looking out on a big courtyard with 
 lots of ivy. I am glad I speak French, as it makes things 
 easier. I have had to go to get my permit vised again, in 
 order to pass the Belgian lines, but I think that this is the
 
 74 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 last time. No more postage stamps for me! But instead of 
 "On Active Service" one puts "S.M.," which means 
 "Service Militaire." Most of the motors have it on them 
 also — those which have been commandeered. This is the 
 War Zone all right. 
 
 Ambulance de I'Ocean, La Panne, 
 
 June 30, 1 9 1 5 
 
 This is just to say I arrived safely, and love it — so 
 glad 1 came. It is the FRONT. 1 shall always be glad that 
 I came alone! The nurses gasped when they heard that I 
 traveled all the way without any one. I never got here till 
 nearly midnight, and was so dead tired and so covered 
 with dust, that 1 did not care whether 1 lived or died. You 
 will have got my letter from Calais written while waiting 
 for the motor, which did not come until a quarter to eight 
 — and then turned out to be five enormous gray Belgian 
 Field Service Ambulances. They had been at Ypres and 
 other places near the front, to collect one hundred and 
 twenty-five little Belgian children who are being sent by 
 the Queen of Belgium to schools in France. They were to 
 spend the night at the hospital in Calais, and go on the 
 next day by train. You should have seen the poor little 
 tots swarming in the courtyard, having their faces and 
 hands washed before going in to their supper — looking so 
 tired and frightened. I had supper with the nurses —
 
 PORTRAIT OF A LIFE-PRESERVER
 
 BELGIUM 75 
 
 hunks of brown bread and butter, and cold boiled potatoes, 
 and beer. And when one of them discovered that 1 had had 
 nothing since that morning, she ran and brought cold meat 
 for me. 
 
 This was at 8 o'clock, and soon after 8.30 we started — 
 a solemn procession of big gray monsters. We got quite a 
 few cheers as we passed through Calais. The chauffeurs 
 had put me and my luggage in the back of the biggest am- 
 bulance, and I was like a little pea rattling about in a very 
 large pod, for when we got out into the country we went 
 very fast. My kit-bag and other luggage, which started 
 on the seat, were soon on the floor. And the dust ! ! 1 
 would n't have the big canvas curtains down, for 1 wanted 
 to see the country — and it just poured in at the back. 
 
 We were held up frequently by sentries, who looked at 
 my papers by flickering lantern light. At the Belgian lines 
 they took them away — but brought them back and took 
 off their hats with a flourish. The chauffeur said we came 
 through Dunkirk, and I was watching out for it, but one 
 could not know there was any town there at all — it was 
 absolutely dark — not a light to be seen. 
 
 We finally got to La Panne after 1 1 .30, and drew up at 
 the door of the Ambulance de I'Ocean — just a mass of 
 buildings looming in the dark, on all sides. The night 
 nurses wanted me to wait the few intervening minutes 
 before their supper, but I was more tired than hungry.
 
 76 • IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 They gave me a temporary room — and by midnight I 
 was in bed and asleep. 
 
 The work is very hard here, and most interesting. The 
 hospital is a big summer hotel on the sands, helped out by 
 a lot of tin-roofed pavilions — mushroom growths which 
 are divided into two big wards each. Each ward holds one 
 hundred and twenty beds. I am in Pavilion Everyman — 
 and have been given twenty beds of my own to be respon- 
 sible for. Also one helps with dressings all over the ward. 
 
 One never stops — there are no chairs, and if there were 
 they would be utterly superfluous. There is a theatre be- 
 tween the two wards, with four operating-tables. And it is 
 one ceaseless round of operations — the brancardiers (or- 
 derlies) bringing in one case, fetching him out, carrying in 
 the next — without stopping — all the mornings and most 
 of the afternoons. I have already been sent in with several 
 patients. The four tables are going hard all the time — and 
 such cases! If one sat down and thought it would be un- 
 bearable, but one never thinks — it is the only way. Dr. 
 
 H and Dr. F are here, and were glad to see some 
 
 one from Oldway. They both have cases in B. Ward, 
 where I am. 
 
 I was sent on duty early the morning after I arrived ! 
 Some of the nurses told me that they had the chance to 
 rest a night at Dunkirk on the way — they were in luck! 
 
 One of my men had a big operation yesterday, and was
 
 BELGIUM 77 
 
 very ill — we slaved over him and today he is better. The 
 doctor tells me that he is to be court-martialed as soon as 
 he is able, for dropping a bomb purposely, and killing and 
 wounding some men. His own wounds are almost punish- 
 ment enough, but if it is proved, he will be shot. I felt 
 quite ill over it, and I hope they won't prove him to have 
 done it intentionally. I can't help grudging all the good 
 gauze being used on him if he is getting well only to be 
 shot! Dressings are not plentiful here. 
 One of the nurses — a Scotch girl — is a cousin of Dr. 
 
 S and asked if I had known him at Oldway. She is 
 
 like me, half trained, but we are all called Sisters here, and 
 treated all more or less alike. There are no real probation- 
 ers. The food seems rather poor, but one gets plenty. The 
 dining-room opens onto the beach, and the view is lovely. 
 The nurses all sleep in villas close by the hospital buildings, 
 and 1 am in the Villa Pax (!) facing the beach — with a 
 lovely room on the fourth floor overlooking the sea. At high 
 tide the water is right up under the windows, and at low 
 tide nearly half a mile out. We get gorgeous sunsets. My 
 only room-mate at present is a Danish nurse — I have n't 
 yet mastered her name. Mercifully she never bothers me 
 by talking. We are a polyglot crowd — Belgian, French, 
 Danish, English, Scotch, American, Canadian — and very 
 likely others. This is only my second day, and I have 
 yet much to discover. 1 have n't half seen the hospital
 
 78 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 yet — there are endless wards, springing up on all sides. 
 Our patients do not come in, of course, a lot at a time — as 
 at Oldway, or hospitals farther from the front. The am- 
 bulances bring them in threes and fours, and they get here 
 generally fifteen or twenty minutes after they are wounded. 
 Six came in last night, two very bad who died. 
 
 At the present moment there is no firing going on — they 
 say there is often a lull of a few days. It is quite easy to 
 see the flashes at the firing-line at night from here, they 
 tell me. Every evening four gunboats come on guard, some 
 distance out at sea — we can see them and their funnels 
 distinctly. The whole place is under strict military dis- 
 cipline — sentries everywhere. 
 
 I was never before so glad of my French. Some of the 
 doctors and nurses don't speak any, and it is a bore for 
 them. Most of the patients speak French — except a few 
 Flamands — and they understand. I have met only one 
 so far who does n't. 
 
 I lie down in my off time, which is only two hours. My 
 room is a joy, with its lovely view, but the soldiers drilling 
 and bathing on the beach keep up a continual racket. The 
 Belgians have been put into khaki only three days ago — 
 and they love it, and fancy themselves very British! 
 
 There is an Australian here who was one of Sister Vera's 
 probationers out in Australia. I was so amused at hearing 
 this, and said that I too had been her probationer — and
 
 BELGIUM 79 
 
 we both laughed! She admitted that she also had been run 
 about, and 1 told her our joke in Munsey, about all Sister 
 V.'s probationers having to learn the "Munsey glide"! 
 Better put the Depage name on all letters — it is so 
 well known, and means much more than "Ambulance de 
 rOcean." On the passport they call it " I'Hopital Depage." 
 
 July I, 191 5 
 
 An aeroplane passed very near my window — so 
 near that it sounded almost in the room. They are con- 
 stantly overhead, and often we hear the Germans firing 
 at them. This morning there were big guns going, i said 
 to a man I was bandaging, " Est-ce la guerre ou la pra- 
 tique?" — and he said, "Oh, c'est bien la guerre." 
 
 I went out with two other nurses last evening for the 
 first time. I have been too tired up to now. We went to 
 the little village to find postcards. The street was crammed 
 with soldiers who stare, but are perfectly polite. We are 
 not allowed to wear anything but uniform, and may not 
 ever go out alone. The beach is fenced in along the front 
 of the hospital and our villas, with sentries guarding every 
 entrance, but we can go out and walk where we like — only 
 never alone. I hope later when my feet are better, to see 
 some of the country. They are tightly bandaged, and that 
 helps. I could n't keep going without — they were awful 
 at first. We don't know what it is to sit down.
 
 8o IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 There is nothing much to tell since I wrote last except 
 that I feel more at home, and love it. The work is espe- 
 cially heavy in our ward, and our easy days (which don't 
 occur often) are like Oldway's hardest ones! It is really 
 hard — such as I was looking for. A nurse took two of us 
 last night to see the receiving ward — a separate building 
 with about fifty beds always ready. X-ray and operating- 
 room. The wounded are brought there, seen by the doctor, 
 bathed, and if necessary operated on at once. It was 9.30 
 last evening when we went, and three had just come in and 
 were waiting their turn for the theatre. If it is night, they 
 are kept in bed there, and not sent on to the ward till 
 morning, which saves endless noise and confusion. 
 
 I did a man's dressing today, who is being sent on to a 
 London hospital — it made me almost homesick! We keep 
 only the worst cases and send on the others to base hos- 
 pitals — at Calais, etc. — or to England. 
 
 Julys, 191 5 
 
 We have just been having a thrilling evening — 
 three Belgian aeroplanes were being shelled by the Ger- 
 mans. We went down on the beach, and watched for 
 half an hour. All of us were out craning our necks. We 
 could see the aeroplanes clearly, though they were very 
 high up. And we could hear the boom of the guns, and 
 then see the flash in the sky, and a little puff of smoke
 
 BELGIUM 8 1 
 
 slowly dispersing. The sentry on the beach tuld us it was 
 shrapnel, so now we know what shrapnel is like, when it 
 bursts near the men. It seemed very close to the aero- 
 planes sometimes, but they moved fast — not trying to 
 get away, however, for they kept circling about. 
 
 It is nearly 9 o'clock now, but still quite light. The view 
 from my window is perfect as 1 write — the afterglow of a 
 lovely purple sunset over the water — and the four little 
 torpedo destroyers on guard. One gets quite fond of them, 
 and I look for them every night. In the morning they are 
 gone. A bugle blows at nine every night — and all lights 
 must be hidden and everybody comes indoors. 
 
 I went to the theatre this afternoon with a new case who 
 came last night, a great big six-footer. His arm was very 
 badly smashed, and he lay on the table looking so unhappy 
 that I talked to him, and found that he was afraid of losing 
 the arm. He said he did n't mind for himself, but that he 
 had " une mere et quatre petits freres." I asked the doctor, 
 and was able to reassure him that he was almost certain 
 not to lose it. He had never had ether before, and I ex- 
 plained to him that they would cover his face, and then 
 he would be "endormi" and would feel nothing. He asked 
 me whether his whole body would be "endormi," or only 
 his arm — and he took the ether like a lamb. I have never 
 seen any one take it so peacefully — just breathing quietly 
 and not stirring even a finger. The operation took an hour
 
 82 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 and twenty minutes, and such an arm! The explosive 
 shells work havoc. The doctor hopes to save it, but I feel 
 very anxious — he is such a nice lad, and so plucky. 
 
 Do write all news — one is so cut off here, and treasures 
 every detail. Could n't you send me daily papers instead 
 of weekly? I am starving for news of England and the war! 
 
 Sunday, July 4, 191 5 
 
 It is hot today. I do not work in the big house, 
 which is cool and gets all the breezes — but in a pavilion 
 which is stewing — only a tin roof and uncurtained win- 
 dows, so that the sun pours in all day. I can't bear to see 
 the men lie panting with the heat and be able to do nothing 
 for them — no ice — no electric fans — nothing. The condi- 
 tions here are unsanitary in everyway — flies thick every- 
 where. We have to keep brushing them out of the wounds 
 while doing dressings, and they swarm over our food in the 
 dining-room. The garbage stands uncovered, I am told. 
 
 The work is really hard, and they make it harder than 
 need be — by little things such as putting green and white 
 counterpanes on every bed when we come on duty, not 
 making the beds then, as there is not time enough, only 
 tidying them. Then after dinner really making the beds! I 
 Then at 5 o'clock taking all the counterpanes off for the 
 night! ! ! In a ward of one hundred and twenty beds it is a 
 lot of extra work — at Oldway we never dreamed of taking
 
 /^ 
 
 BELGIUM 83 
 
 them off at night. These are a gift from the Queen, who 
 is likely to visit the wards unexpectedly, so they cannot be 
 taken off for the night till the last thing. She does not 
 realize the extra work it makes for the nurses! I wish she 
 had given us thermometers instead, for there are only 
 eleven for one hundred and twenty beds. It is always a 
 competition between the other nurse and me to secure the 
 odd one. Lots of nurses are overworked here. However, I 
 expected it, and am awfully glad 1 came. 
 
 The cure tells me that there is mass at 10.30 in the big 
 house — pour les blesses — but one can't be let off to go, 
 too rushed in the wards. 
 
 A man told me that his sister was a Red Cross nurse in 
 the autumn, and when the Germans took the hospital they 
 stood them up in a row — and shot them all. There were 
 tears in his eyes when he told me. 
 
 July 3, 191 5 
 
 Will you send out several dozen rubber air-rings — 
 medium size — with a part of the money which was given 
 me for the men. They are very much needed, as a lot were 
 burned in the fire. Address to my ward, — Pavilion Every- 
 man, — and the Belgian Soldiers' Committee will forward 
 them by the Monday afternoon Admiralty boat. I am 
 
 getting Mrs. W to send me out a lot of gauze and 
 
 bandages, which are free, of course.
 
 84 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 One hears rumors of a big offensive by the Allies about 
 the middle of this month. And many say that La Panne 
 has not too long a future. Who knows ! Another rumor was 
 that when they were shelling near here the last time, twelve 
 battleships were at hand to take everybody away by sea. 
 "On dit" that the reason we are n't shelled just now, as 
 could so easily be, is because the German officer command- 
 ing near here is half-brother to the Queen of the Belgians. 
 She comes often to the hospital. 
 
 July 7, 191 5 
 
 Splendid news — I have received a draft for twenty 
 pounds from the St. Timothy's Alumnae, voted by them at 
 the meeting at Baltimore. Will you cash it and send ether 
 as soon as possible? — we are needing it so much. When 
 your cable came yesterday afternoon, it was brought to me 
 in the theatre — where I was holding down a patient, and 
 steeped in blood — I could n't read it for ages. I don't 
 describe any wounds, because one just could n't here — 
 they are all too awful. 1 could n't ever tell what I have 
 seen in the theatre here. 
 
 By luck I got a tiny little back room to myself — it is so 
 small that no one else can be put into it, which is a joy. 
 The wind is so high today that everything is covered with 
 sand — my lap is full, sitting in my window writing. 
 
 Things here have hummed for the last two days, and we
 
 BELGIUM 85 
 
 have been so very short-handed that we are all dead beat. 
 Our head nurse is off ill today — simply overdone. The 
 doctors knew how tired we were in our ward, for there was 
 a big rush the week before 1 came — and they have not 
 sent us any new patients this week until it was necessary. 
 But now the rest of the hospital is full up, and we are get- 
 ting a steady stream. The London training school sent 
 thirty Belgian girls last night, and three were put into our 
 ward today — which is a relief, saving us many steps. A 
 new nurse came and 1 got relieved from my extra ten beds, 
 thank goodness. Twenty are quite all I want, with such 
 heavy cases. So many of the nurses don't speak even three 
 words of French — I am acting as interpreter all day in 
 my ward. 
 
 I have got such a nice new man — with a fractured arm 
 
 — and yesterday afternoon Dr. H gave me the horrible 
 
 jagged piece of shrapnel which came out of his wound. 
 
 Did I tell you about the little Seminarist — that means 
 one who is training for the priesthood? He was very badly 
 wounded, and they said he could n't live, when he was 
 brought in a fortnight ago. But now he is very much alive 
 and quite a character — clever and such a sense of humor 
 
 — though nothing but skin and bone. The Seminarists 
 act as stretcher-bearers at the front — and this lad went 
 alone to a very dangerous spot, after a wounded man — 
 and got his shoulder shot away. He had word yesterday
 
 86 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 that he is to receive the Order of Leopold, which as a rule 
 only officers get. 
 
 All the Canadians (whose day is July ist) and all the 
 Americans (for the Fourth) were invited two nights ago to 
 the big salon and presented with flowers by the Belgians 
 — Dr. Depage among the rest. There were speeches and 
 cheers and so on. Yesterday afternoon Dr. Depage asked 
 all us Americans to tea at his villa, to celebrate. He hardly 
 spoke to any one. Madame Depage, you know, was lost in 
 the Lusitania, and her grave is near the hospital, along the 
 shore, on the sand dunes. The youngest boy passed tea 
 and cakes yesterday — he is about twelve — a nice boy. 
 
 Julyg, 191 5 
 
 I was so tired yesterday, the Head Sister gave me an 
 extra half-hour off duty. I could be spared, for yesterday 
 was n't so bad as the two days before, which were awful. 
 Oh, the work! and the operations! We had sixteen new 
 cases in twenty-four hours, here in my ward. I don't know 
 how long I '11 be able to stand it here unless they give us a 
 little more time off. I hope I can rise to an emergency with 
 the best, but I cannot go on day in, day out, week in, week 
 out — especially as it is not necessary, now that we've 
 got three new Belgian girls in our ward. Our Head Sister 
 won't let them do a thing — not even take temperatures — 
 though they've had six months' hospital training! She is
 
 BELGIUM 87 
 
 not a good organizer — and overtired — and the respon- 
 sibility of such a big ward has got on her nerves. Two more 
 Sisters are off today for illness, if 1 get too tired, 1 shall 
 just stay oflf ill myself — it 's the only way ! — "A willing 
 horse," etc. Oddly enough it is my head that is worse than 
 my feet, and tomorrow 1 am going to wring a half-day out 
 of the Head Sister if possible. 
 
 1 forgot to tell you that we have two German patients. 
 They are kept separate — in a two-bedded room in the 
 big house — and when well they will be sent away as 
 prisoners. One of the Sisters took me in to see them, and it 
 gave me a strange feeling to think they were really Ger- 
 mans! One was very badly wounded and half asleep — 
 quite a boy. But the other was sitting up in bed, and 
 seemed to belong to a superior class of man. Such a sly 
 face, though — he looked like an educated criminal. They 
 are very well treated here. 
 
 Some of the new probationers are n't much good, I am 
 sorry to say. They can't bandage, and are not allowed to 
 take temperatures. 1 have to take all the temperatures, 
 pulses, and respirations for half the ward, and 1 was at it 
 hard just two hours, from 3 to 5, while they did little noth- 
 ings-in-particular. I am sure they must know how, only 
 the Head Sister dreads trusting them. I don't have time 
 enough to even get out of the hospital gate! Furnes is 
 only three miles — I long to go there, and my first half-
 
 88 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 day I shall. One has to walk, but they say one is sure to 
 get a lift — an ambulance or something passing. 
 
 Sunday, July ii, 191 5 
 
 I am in bed with a bad throat, and can't eat much. 
 I had it Friday morning, but went on duty as usual — we 
 were extra busy — and I was on till 8 p.m. The little Sem- 
 inarist said that I looked ill, and I told him he had "les 
 yeux trop voyants." I was in bed yesterday all day — and 
 thought I 'd be better today, but I woke up a little worse 
 
 if anything. Dr. H has been in this morning, and 
 
 Sister Parsons (who was at Oldway) has been looking 
 after me when she could. 
 
 Isolation Villa, July 14, 191 5 
 
 If I came out here for experience I am certainly get- 
 ting it ! Not every one could be threatened with a diphther- 
 itic throat, and display a rash which baffled all the doctors, 
 and be carried on a stretcher to the Isolation Villa in the 
 sand dunes — all within five miles of the trenches and 
 within sound of the German guns! It has been amusing, and 
 never, never shall I forget it! If it had n't been so awful, 
 it would have been comical. When I wrote last I thought I 
 was better, but my temperature went up to over 103, 
 and they moved me into a private room in the big hos- 
 pital, on Sister Parsons's floor. It seemed so odd to be
 
 BELGIUM 89 
 
 carried on a stretcher, just like the wounded going to an 
 operation! There I had day and night nursing for the first 
 time, and was thankful — but the next morning the doctor 
 of that floor refused to keep me — with a rash and throat 
 
 — and I was bundled off here to the Isolation Villa. 
 
 1 have quite a nice room here — looking out on the sand 
 dunes. One hears the guns constantly. Just outside there 
 is a little guard-house, where the sand-dune sentries spend 
 their time when off duty. It is rather amusing to see them 
 march off to change the guard. There are only two nurses 
 here. One is Soeur Marthe, the King and Queen's own 
 trained nurse, to whom they are devoted. She is very nice, 
 and so is the other one — a fat, cheery little soul, who has 
 taken care of me. They all say that when I am able I must 
 go straight away from here for a rest. 
 
 Always something from you each day — yesterday 
 books, and today papers, etc. — just what I have wanted 
 
 — thanks awfully. I had a letter yesterday from Dr. Hec- 
 tor Munro, which I must answer — asking whether we 
 could take some one whom he recommends. He was just 
 off for the front from the base hospital. 
 
 I feel weary and must stop. 
 
 Isolation Villa, July 15, 191 5 
 
 Matron was pleased when the rubber air-rings came. 
 She said that we need pyjamas and socks and bedroom
 
 90 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 slippers, and she hopes you can send them. Dark pyjamas 
 are best. 
 
 My nurse is a nice plump Belgian, very well " diplomee," 
 and has worked under Dr. Depage and other well-known 
 men. She is a real sunshine — anything rounder or more 
 hideous than her face I have never seen, but so cheery and 
 lovable. So I am well looked after. I may be able to travel 
 by next Wednesday or Thursday. Matron says I must be 
 well "remise" before attempting it. 
 
 July 1 6 
 
 Am getting on well, quite convalescing. Going to 
 sit out in the garden today — the garden being, I suppose, 
 a private corner of sand dune. I have n't seen it yet, as I 
 arrived on a stretcher with my head covered up! From my 
 window today I can see two what they call " ballons cap- 
 tifs" — which means balloons sent up for observation and 
 secured. One, quite near, is French — and farther away 
 along the coast-line is a Boche. They say there are five 
 between here and Ypres today, and it means that an of- 
 fensive of some sort is preparing. My nurse says the guns 
 were loud at 5 this a.m., but I did n't hear them. Yester- 
 day I both heard and saw the Boches shelling some French 
 and British ships out at sea — it was all very close, and 
 they nearly hit them once or twice. I crept out of bed to 
 watch.
 
 BELGIUM 91 
 
 It has been fearfully hot — and I have longed for cold 
 drinks. The flies here are rampant — in and out from one 
 infectious case to another! And they wake me every morn- 
 ing crawling on my face. 1 am told the garbage stands 
 uncovered. Could n't the Belgian Committee in London 
 improve some of the unsanitary conditions here? 
 
 I can't tell you how much the condensed ether has been 
 
 appreciated. Do write to C and D and the others 
 
 who gave the money. Pyjamas are very much needed here 
 — often the men can't have clean ones because there 
 are n't any. For some reason 1 am not able to get a wire 
 through to you — a new temporary rule — but Matron 
 is going to try to send you one — with her list of what is 
 needed. It is impossible to get at their individual wants, 
 as at Oldway — the conditions here are so different. 
 
 Have you heard all the talk of the rush for Calais? I am 
 told of a very good reason for our not being bombarded 
 here — but I hardly think the censor would pass it, so I 
 will tell you when we meet. Sister Vera writes beseeching 
 me to leave here before the rush for Calais — she is really 
 worried! 
 
 July 18 
 
 Up today and staggered over to the hospital to 
 see Matron — feeling very shaky. Mrs. Knocker motored 
 here today, to bring some wounded from her hut, but I
 
 92 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 was out on the sands and could n't be found. She will be 
 coming again tomorrow. Madame de Glos has been very 
 kind to me, and asked me to stay at her villa to recuperate 
 
 — but I am going to Sister Vera at Wimereux (Boulogne) 
 as soon as I can travel. The ambulance takes me to Calais, 
 and from there I go by train. They give one a military 
 pass. 
 
 I hope I shall be able to get back here — it grows more 
 doubtful every day about the future of La Panne. I should 
 hate to get caught here to nurse Germans — quite possible, 
 of course! One reason why we are not shelled here now is 
 because if the Germans got this place the hospital would 
 be very useful to them — and also, it is said, because La 
 Panne is the military headquarters now, and so full of spies 
 that it pays the Germans to leave it. 
 
 Mrs. G has just been to see me. She and Miss F 
 
 are doing refugee work now, in their villa near here. She 
 says it is very interesting, but heart-breaking. They have 
 several little Belgian children living with them now. 
 
 July 19, 191 5 
 
 There was a big review on the beach this morning, 
 preparatory to the celebration which is to be on Wednesday 
 
 — Belgium's national day. I have just been photographing 
 the little Crown Prince, who became very shy. He is only 
 thirteen and a half, and is a sergeant ! You see I am able
 
 BELGIUM 93 
 
 to toddle about a little. Through being ill I missed the 
 visit of King Albert to decorate my little Seminarist with 
 the Order of Leopold. 
 
 I went to the ward to say good-bye to my patients. The 
 big six-footer you asked about did not lose his arm — he 
 was up and walking about today. I wrote a letter for him 
 before I was ill, to his aunt in England, as his mother is in 
 Ghent and could not be reached. The aunt's address 
 sounded like "Csideef, Soot Wallis." Can you guess what I 
 finally discovered he meant — Cardiff, South Wales! 
 
 Am starting tomorrow — must get off then, as there 
 will not be another chance for a week. 
 
 Winter eux [Boulogne], July 21, 191 5. 
 
 I arrived here yesterday about 3 o'clock, after oh, 
 such a journey! We left La Panne at 7.30 a.m., five of us, 
 and motored to Calais. The run was awfully interesting — 
 very front-like — and we saw quite a bit of poor battered 
 Dunkirk, which I had missed in the dark, coming. At 
 Calais 1 had to engineer the whole party, as no one spoke 
 French, and there was red tape in getting our passports 
 vised. Then to Boulogne by train, and out here. I found 
 Sister Vera with her bag packed, waiting for her permit to 
 get to me at La Panne! I have a nice room, three minutes' 
 walk from her hospital, over a tiny cafe, run by Veuve 
 Briche and her little maid — with excellent food, but ap-
 
 94 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 palling war prices. The air is splendid, and I am so looking 
 forward to sitting about on the rocks and doing nothing. 
 As for returning to La Panne, Matron gave me only two 
 weeks' leave — but every one else told me that a month or 
 six weeks was the least 1 ought to have after such an illness 
 
 — and 1 shall write her. Evidently 1 managed to put up 
 a very good bluff, and to deceive even you at first! 
 
 Wimereux, July 24, 191 5 
 
 They let me travel too soon — and 1 collapsed into 
 bed again as soon as 1 got here. Sister Vera has been taking 
 care of me — she can't get over my narrow escape! It is 
 slow work — and I can take only the shortest walks as yet 
 
 — ten or fifteen minutes. Luckily she can be spared to 
 look after me, as all the hospitals about here have been 
 cleared of patients in preparation for the rush for 
 Calais. 
 
 I do wish you could come — but you could n't possibly 
 get to Boulogne — you know how strict they are — civil- 
 ians and Americans are allowed to land only in Dieppe. 
 All Americans are suspected now of being spies. 
 
 Everything here is far more strictly censored than at 
 La Panne, where the letters we wrote were seldom opened, 
 but were held back three or four days until any information 
 in them would be no longer valuable. Here they are all 
 opened. And no photographs may be taken — all doctors
 
 BELGIUM 95 
 
 and nurses, as well as the army, have had lately to sign a 
 paper stating that they have sent their kodaks home. 
 
 Matron has written from La Panne that she wants Sister 
 Vera and me — and in that case Vera would probably be 
 head of a ward. Although she is only my age, she has done 
 nursing for eight or nine years, and has been a Matron. 
 Everybody in her hospital has been most kind ever since I 
 came, and she was given extra time off, to be with me. If 
 I go back to La Panne, Matron says I shall probably work 
 in the big house. 
 
 The Secretary of the Depage Hospital has acknowledged 
 the receipt of your second shipment of condensed ether, 
 and of one hundred pyjama suits and one hundred and fifty 
 
 pairs of socks and bed-slippers. Mrs. C sent out from 
 
 Suffolk two splendid crates of miscellaneous dressings to 
 my pavilion. And I have received £65 more to be spent 
 for the men ! 
 
 Wimereux, July 26, 191 5 
 
 Sister Vera is resigning from her hospital, and I find 
 that it is on my account, in order to take me to England. 
 To tell the honest truth, my case seems to have been rather 
 misunderstood at La Panne. Here the opinion is that what 
 I really had was something serious — on account of com- 
 plications which have since appeared. ^ 
 
 1 Illness diagnosed later by London physicians as scarlet fever. 
 {Editor's Note.)
 
 96 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Wimereux, August i, 191 5 
 It certainly was good to see you — never shall I 
 forget my feelings when you appeared in the door ! ! I am 
 so glad that you have had a glimpse of things over here. 
 Captain T was sorry to have missed you — and won- 
 dered how you ever had the luck to get your forty-eight- 
 hour "autorisation speciale"! 
 Shall be able to follow with Vera in a few days now. 
 
 Au revoir — 
 
 Mary.
 
 III. PSYCHO-ANALYSIS
 
 London, November 9, 1916 
 
 Dearest Mother: — 
 
 It is just a month today since I began my course 
 at the CHnic.^ The lectures are even stiffer than 1 expected 
 — but so interesting it is worth the hard work. It is curious 
 to think that a year ago I had never heard of Applied Psy- 
 chology — and now 1 would not go back to nursing for 
 worlds! I am awfully looking forward to having patients 
 of my own — Dr. Murray thinks I can by Christmas-time. 
 
 Some of our lectures have been on "The Psychology of 
 the First Five Years." One subject was "The Subnormal 
 Child" — another "The Psychology of Children's Mis- 
 demeanors." . _. ' ; .1 ' ,' .   ,'^,'. * 
 
 The fundamental cause of war-shock goes back to child- 
 hood. The reason why one man gets it and another, under 
 the same conditions, does n't, is owing to some streak of 
 weakness in the subconsciousness, dating back to con- 
 ditions of early infancy. Our doctors are not expecting 
 to attempt a complete cure for every war-shock patient 
 who comes to the Clinic — that would involve a course of 
 thorough-going analysis, which would take too long. In 
 many cases it is much better to do a temporary cure in a 
 quick way — and unless the previous causes of war-shock 
 » Medico-Psychological Clinic.
 
 100 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 are renewed, it may prove a permanent cure. You under- 
 stand that the cases of war-shock we shall deal with will 
 often be men who have never been wounded. 
 
 Dr. Stoddart lectured on the Neuropathic Patient the 
 other day. We are having a course on the " Psychology of 
 the Subconscious" and one on "Normal Psychology," from 
 reflexes and sensori-motor arcs to the measurement of 
 mental ability, etc., and the relation of Social Psychology 
 to Individual Psychology. Also some lectures by Dr. Mack- 
 intosh on "Type and Temperament" and "Heredity." 
 
 The need of Applied Psychology is being more and m.ore 
 recognized here. Even last spring, at a meeting arranged 
 by Lady Campbell for the members of the British Women's 
 Patriotic League — Lord Montagu of Beaulieu discussed 
 the psychology of the airman most interestingly, I was 
 told. He was one of the important members of the new 
 Air Board, you know. He said that a wounded soldier is 
 far easier to cure than a flying man with shell-shock. 
 
 We have some very distinguished doctors on the Staff 
 
 at the Clinic. I enclose a list. They all give their services, 
 
 of course: — 
 
 Medical Staff 
 
 H. G. Adamson, M.D., F.R.C.P. 
 
 W. E. M. Armstrong, M.A., M.D. 
 
 Geo. W. Badgerow, M.B., F.R.C.S. 
 
 Maud M. Chadburn, M.D., B.S.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS loi 
 
 Hilda Clark. M.B., B.S. 
 *Ivo Geikie Cobb, M.D. (Brux). M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. 
 
 Charles Gibbs, F.R.C.S. 
 
 Alfred Charles Jordan, B.A.. M.D.. B.C. 
 
 Frank A. Juler, M.A., M.B.. B.C., F.R.C.S. 
 
 A. N. Leathern, M.R.C.S., L.R.C.P. 
 
 Wm. McDougall, M.A., M.B., F.R.S. 
 ♦Hector Munro, M.B., CM. 
 *Jessie M. Murray, M.B., B.S. 
 
 C. S. Myers, M.A., M.D., D.Sc, F.R.S. 
 
 Agnes Savill, M.A.. M.D., M.R.C.P. 
 *W. H. B. Stoddart, M.D., F.R.C.P. 
 Dental Surgeons 
 
 T. H. Vaughan, L.D.S., R.C.S. (Eng.) 
 
 G. J. Harborow, L.D.S., R.C.S. (Eng.) 
 
 * Acting Staff. 
 
 November 25, 1916 
 
 All well here — studying like mad. Am sorry for 
 my delay in inquiring about a soldier for Josephine. I went 
 yesterday, and can now report. First of all — tell her that 
 really there are no lonely soldiers now. There are clubs, 
 and everything is systematized. And people who had a 
 "lonely soldier" have found they were one of several 
 writing to him! Also people have found the lonely soldier 
 often ceased writing letters, and only acknowledged their
 
 102 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 letters and gifts with a post-card — which seemed to indi- 
 cate being no longer so lonely ! I did n't go to the Fairy God- 
 mothers' League — is n't the name enough to put one off 
 — this is no time for sentiment! And I didn't want to 
 advise Josephine to waste her time and energy on something 
 
 not really needed. Dr. C , of the R.A.M.C, told me 
 
 that when he was out at the front a man in his regiment ad- 
 vertised as a lonely soldier, as a joke, and Dr. C said 
 
 that hundreds of answers came from girls. The man was a 
 
 rotter, and when Dr. C overheard him joking about 
 
 it, he made him sit down and answer every letter! 
 
 December 20, 19 16 
 
 No. 34 is being prepared for shell-shock. It is al- 
 most next door to the Clinic, and is to be opened as soon 
 as it can be got ready. 1 1 will be filled up at once with civil- 
 ians while waiting for War Office recognition. There will be 
 much delay, and red tape, before getting official authoriza- 
 tion. We are fortunate to get a house so near the Clinic — 
 as many of the patients cannot come alone for their (gener- 
 ally) daily treatments. Our dream is to get the intermedi- 
 ate houses also, and open them all up into one. 
 
 January 14, 191 7 
 
 We had our examinations last week, and our marks 
 have just been posted, 1 passed in everything, and came
 
 PS YCHO-AhlAL YSIS 103 
 
 second of the first-term students in Normal Psychology, 
 third in Abnormal Psychology. The Biology course was 
 not so directly in relation to Psychology as was intended — 
 they could not get the lecturer they wanted, on account of 
 the war. So 1 put more work into the other courses. Dr. 
 Murray said they were more important, and not to worry 
 if I did n't pass in Biology — but as you see, 1 managed to. 
 I do not mean that Biology is n't important for us — it is 
 — but a lot which the lecturer gave us was not connected 
 with our work, and not important for iis. I enclose the 
 syllabus for next term, — also for the summer term, which 
 is less study and more patients. 
 
 No. 34 is to be opened the first week in March — thrill- 
 ing! — we are needing it so much. 
 
 I have three patients now at the Clinic. Also a private 
 case which I am taking under Dr. Murray. She comes to 
 me two days a week here in Dover Street, at my room in 
 the Club. She asked me last time if I would lunch and go 
 to a play with her — and of course 1 said. No, that we 
 never go out with patients (! !) She is getting on well. I 
 am to have a shell-shock case soon — loss of memory — 
 three cheers! • - " - 
 
 1 go now to Dr. Murray twice a week for my own analy- 
 sis, which I want to get through as much as is possible 
 this winter. Otherwise things would come cropping up 
 later. Also it is very helpful to me to see her in connec-
 
 104 ^^ T^^E SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 tion with my patients. Every student has to be analyzed 
 before being allowed to become an analyst. No amount of 
 study can take the place of it — it is a necessary part 
 of the course. 
 
 Here is a part of the parody I wrote on Analysis: — 
 
 T is the wail of " Subconscious," 
 
 I hear it declare — 
 " You 've repressed me too long, 
 " To expand I don't dare. 
 " I 'm accustomed to knots, 
 "All tied up in a ball — 
 " To expand is too painful, 
 " I don't want to at all" 
 
 The things that have been 
 Are buried so deep — 
 'T was a surgeon's job 
 (Through hypnotized sleep) — 
 But now there's another 
 And better way — 
 One sits in a chair 
 And talks all day. 
 
 Cheer up. Subconscious, 
 And let yourself go — 
 You'll soon be looser 
 Down there below.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS los 
 
 Just tell all you know, 
 And a lot beside — 
 Never mind if you're sick 
 And sorely tried. 
 
 Just pour it out 
 In the Analyst's ear — 
 What looked so hop)eless. 
 She can make clear. 
 
 'T is the Analyst's voice — 
 I hear her say, 
 " And now you must go. 
 That's enough for to-day." 
 
 Sister Vera is on night duty in Sister Agnes Keyser's 
 Hospital for officers (King Edward Vll's), and I see her 
 about once a week. She has been converted to analysis! 
 Is being analyzed herself — and a new person already. 
 Her husband is in France in a very dangerous station, 
 operating under shell-fire. He had his hypodermic needle 
 shot out of his hand, and received the Military Cross for 
 bringing in wounded from No Man's Land in broad day- 
 light. 
 
 January 25, 191 7 
 
 I have six patients now — an awful lot, more than 
 any other student, but it is splendid, and I shall keep them
 
 io6 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 all if I can. Some of them come daily, and some only two 
 or three times a week. It may be too much, but I shall 
 have a good try. Dr. Murray has an eye on me, and don't 
 worry. One is a case of Gallipoli shell-shock — complete loss 
 of memory — such a nice boy, only twenty-one. 
 
 February 8, 191 7 
 
 There is such a lot to answer in yours — and I must 
 hurry, as 1 ought to be studying. Don't worry, I get 
 plenty of food — with this work one requires large quanti- 
 ties of nourishment! I can't go out much, as I have so 
 few afternoons or evenings free. Wednesday is my only 
 evening, and every afternoon is full up except Satur- 
 day, when I have a lot to do, and sometimes go to the 
 country. 
 
 My Gallipoli boy is getting on. Very, very slowly — the 
 treatment has hardly begun yet — but his sister said yes- 
 terday that he seems a little better. She volunteered the 
 remark. I have been trying the word-reaction tests with 
 him — and got exactly the results I knew I would. I made 
 up the lists of words, with words sandwiched in which 
 have to do with his Gallipoli experiences. At any word, 
 such as rifle, sand, ship, waves, bugle, tent, shells, etc., there 
 is no reaction-word at all — his mind is a dead blank. It 
 will be interesting to compare these results with the later 
 ones. A friend offered to fetch him to the Clinic once or
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 107 
 
 twice a week — to save his sister wiio has to come with 
 him every day, and has a family of young children. 
 
 I am lunching today with M . As a rule 1 can't 
 
 lunch with any one, but today my first patient is my pri- 
 vate case who comes to me here at 2. Then at the Clinic 
 I have patients straight on from 3.30 to 7 — one from 7. 1 5 
 to 8 — and one from 8 to 9. On a day like that 1 sleep 
 later in the morning, and have a good lunch, and an egg 
 with my tea at 5, as the Tommies do! Then a cold supper 
 when 1 get home. And thus 1 keep well — it 's a glorious life 
 and 1 love it. The last patient, from 8 to 9 tonight, is not 
 really mine, but one of the head analyst's. She is trying 
 him tentatively on different students to see who does best 
 with him. This is the third time 1 have had him, and I 
 hope it means 1 am doing well with him — or rather, he 
 with me. 
 
 February 18, 19 17 
 
 There is n't much news, except that I am pegging 
 away hard and love it. 1 have six patients at the Clinic, 
 and all goes well. 1 may be going to have one more new 
 patient soon. Today 1 lunched with Pia Digby, to meet 
 her cousin, who was badly wounded and is now at the War 
 Office — very interested in psycho-analysis. 
 
 On Wednesday I had to arrange for a shell-shock case 
 to be brought from his hospital. He shook all over, like
 
 io8 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 nothing on earth — and could n't stand without crutches. 
 
 I got R to fetch him to the CHnic, and take him back. 
 
 He may be going to have treatment from Dr. Hector 
 Munro, with me there to take notes. It will be at his own 
 hospital, as it is too difficult to transport him. All petrol 
 is now being requisitioned for war work. Sugar is very 
 scarce, otherwise things go on much as usual. 
 
 Fehruary 28, 191 7 
 
 I am working awfully hard, analyzing sixteen hours 
 a week — apart from the lectures and study. Am very 
 well, and starting now to coach for the exams, two hours 
 a week — so as not to get in a rush at the last. I have lost 
 my shell-shock case temporarily, as there is a hitch about 
 his coming so far every day, and his sister, who brought 
 him, has had to go to work. But when No. 34 opens, we 
 shall be able to have him there. One of my new private 
 cases who comes to me is a nurse. 
 
 Another, a Clinic case, is an hysterical girl who is on 
 night duty, making munitions, but has got permission to 
 be an hour late on the days she comes to me at the Clinic. 
 As a child she was frightened by a brother dressing in a 
 sheet and jumping out on her — she twists her face, poor 
 girl, and shoots her eyes in different directions, and quar- 
 rels constantly with all her friends. Her " boy" went down 
 on H.M.S. Queen Mary, but now she has another! — and
 
 PS YCHO-AN/iL YSIS 109 
 
 told me that he does not know about her being hysterical. 
 
 She is living in Grace M 's hostel, and was brought by 
 
 her to the Clinic. It will be a long case, but the girl seems 
 keen to go on with the treatment. 
 
 We had to write a paper last week on Reflex Action, 
 Instinct, and Intelligence — explaining them and tracing 
 the gradations. I got 8 out of 10. 
 
 March 8, 1917 
 
 The girl whom Grace brought to the Clinic, and 
 who is my patient, has got diphtheria, poor girl. She is in 
 hospital. 
 
 No. 34 is nearly ready. All the furniture is going in — 
 such a nice plain style of things in imitation old oak. I 
 have already arranged for one patient of mine to come and 
 live there — one who needs to be near. He is so intelligent 
 and getting on so splendidly. He was in very bad home 
 conditions. One is always having to help one's patients in 
 those ways — by advice and interest in their conditions, 
 as well as by actual treatment. One patient I have, only 
 twice a week, who did not want analysis — was very set 
 against it and came to me just for talks — but is now edg- 
 ing round towards it, wanting to have analysis and not 
 liking to say so!
 
 no IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 March 18, 191 7 
 I am very weary, as I have spent most of this golden 
 Sunday afternoon wrestling with the chemical processes 
 of digestion — not to mention the nervous and chemical 
 control of respiration and circulation! Ah, me, what a life 
 it is, to go back to school at my age! And this is harder 
 than school, it's more like college. If you could see my 
 notebooks you'd believe that this is an "exact science" all 
 right ! ! The subject of the paper you asked about was 
 "Condensation and Displacement," which are two forms 
 of distortion. Other dream processes, if they interest you, 
 are presentability — also identification, dramatization, 
 plastic representation, symbolization, and secondary ela- 
 boration. Other expressions connected with the structure 
 of dreams are the common mean and overdetermination. 
 Of course we don't use them in work with our patients! 
 
 March 28, 191 7 
 
 They say food will soon be very scarce. We rarely 
 see a potato — sugar very limited — meatless days, etc. 
 
 I am going to stand G 's munition girls a fresh-egg 
 
 treat at Easter. They love eggs, and they're so good for 
 them. I had tea at her hostel today. She is running it so 
 well — and doing such splendid work.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS iii 
 
 April 5, 191 7 
 
 Have just heard — I came second in Physiology, 
 
 out of the first and second-year students — and third in 
 
 Normal Psychology, third out of first-year, fourth out of 
 
 all. I enclose the questions for our examination papers — 
 
 what do you think of them? I am going to the D s for 
 
 the week-end. 
 
 F , Sussex, April 15, 191 7 
 
 I came down on Wednesday, in great need of rest. 
 It is perfect to be here — so near the Sussex Downs — 
 with nothing to do, no engagements, and no brain work. 
 
 Much as 1 want to tell you more about the Clinic work 
 and our cases, I can't bring myself to write letters yet. 
 I will later on try to write out a sort of sketch of what 
 the treatment really is. But 1 can talk about it better than 
 I can write. It is rather like surgery — without the sud- 
 den nerve-shock of a surgical operation. The surgeon when 
 he operates knows exactly what he is going to find — what 
 organs, and where and how they should be, and how any 
 abnormal conditions should be put right. In psycho-analy- 
 sis, which is mental surgery, we know in very much the 
 same way. But while the principle is always the same, and 
 everybody's mind (unconscious mind, 1 mean) works and 
 reacts on exactly the same lines — be he plough-boy or 
 philosopher — in another sense no two minds are alike.
 
 112 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 which makes the work extraordinarily fascinating. A great 
 difference is that in surgery the patient does nothing, is not 
 even conscious, and in psycho-analysis the patient must 
 cooperate and understand every step of the way — or 
 there could be no cure. I am talking of the work in general, 
 and analysis in general — not of shell-shock treatment in 
 particular. But it applies to all, of course. Our doctors 
 keep records of all the cases, so that other doctors may see 
 them — and investigate. We have some very well-known 
 names on our list. Our Dr. S was a well-known neu- 
 rologist before he took up psychology. He went back this 
 winter to help in the big London hospital where he had 
 trained, which was short-handed owing to the war. And 
 he says that it was extraordinary to see — in the light of 
 what he now knows through analysis — how many of the 
 cases there were mental not organic. You understand that 
 by that I mean the symptoms physical, but the (uncon- 
 scious) cause mental, not organic. 
 
 Lady Campbell asked me to tea on Easter afternoon, and 
 I went. She is, of course, greatly thrilled over our coming 
 into the war, and thinks you were lucky to be there and 
 see it — a historic time! I feel very jealous — you have 
 scored over me! We are going on Friday to the service at 
 St. Paul's in honor of it.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 113 
 
 Lcnidcru, April 20, 191 7 
 The celebration at St. Paul's this morning was most 
 thrilling and impressive. You will, of course, have read all 
 about it in the papers. We were halfway up the nave, so 
 got the wonderful general effect of the whole service. The 
 singing of our " Star-Spangled Banner" was very dramatic. 
 After it was over we stood outside on the steps — almost 
 the only people who got out before they closed the doors 
 to keep everybody in! — and had a splendid view of the 
 King and Queen, Princess Mary, the Lord Mayor, and 
 other bigwigs, going away, it was a glorious day — bright 
 sun — and the crowd was enormous — every window filled 
 — and moving-picture machines grinding away, in which 1 
 dare say we shall appear. Look out for my new eighteen- 
 bob spring hat! 
 
 1 have agreed to take on the secretaryship of the League 
 connected with our Clinic — a League started in order to 
 provide things needed by the Clinic patients, very much 
 on the lines of my work of providing an escort to fetch shell- 
 shock Tommies. But this is for the civilian patients as 
 well. The members of the League offer motor-drives, or a 
 little outing, movies and tea, or books, or the use of a 
 piano, and dozens of such-like things. The secretary has 
 to keep account of the demand and the supply. If a patient 
 is too much alone, and needs cheering, the doctor or anal>'st 
 tells the secretary, and she, using discrimination, applies
 
 114 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 to a member of the League who has offered tea or movies or 
 a concert or a drive, and connects the two. These things 
 are just now very much restricted by the war. All we can 
 actually do now is to raise money for helping patients with 
 the necessities. It means a bit of letter-writing, and I may 
 have to hire a stenographer. I can do it easily this spring — 
 but will pass it on if it 's too much next winter. 
 
 April 24, 1 91 7 
 
 We have had our marks for the examination on 
 "Instincts in Animals and Man." Question No. 6 — on 
 Cyril Burt's two lectures — was given us by him, and our 
 papers sent to him to be marked. The question was not 
 easy — " Describe the part played by the Emotions in the 
 formation of individual character" — and it represents 
 awfully hard work for me, for I 'm not used to study, like 
 the others in the class. I got the second highest mark on 
 this question of Cyril Burt's — but not on the whole exam. 
 
 We can't talk much about M Hospital now, for the 
 
 young enterprising up-to-date doctor who did analysis 
 there has gone to the front. You remember the shell- 
 shock cures done at M last year. The elderly nerve- 
 specialist now in command does not understand or approve 
 of analysis! He says, give shell-shock cases manual work 
 — excellent, of course, but hardly to be compared with a 
 fundamental cure.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 115 
 
 People complain that analysis is slow — but why not? 
 — Nature is slow. Surgery swoops in and cuts — but a 
 delicate organism like the mind requires a different treat- 
 ment. Analysis is not always so slow — it depends upon 
 the unconscious conditions, and also on the natural in- 
 telligence of the patient. Education is, of course, a help, 
 but the more naturally psychological the mind, the quicker 
 the progress. 
 
 Lots of cases are suffering from general "nerves," and 
 perhaps a phobia of some sort, fear of dark, or crowds, or 
 open places, or being locked in, or falling down stairs, etc. 
 Besides being cured of that, they acquire a far better atti- 
 tude towards life in general, and much more energy. That 's 
 one of the big things analysis does — releases energy from 
 the unconscious where it has been tied up, unavailable for 
 daily use. And they learn to "sublimate" that energy into 
 some useful channel — or work. 
 
 I have a new case — was sent for today to start it — an 
 awfully good case — can't walk and shakes all over — 
 could n't have treatment until No. 34 was open. Will tell 
 you more about it later. 
 
 May 5, 1917 
 
 No. 34 is simply lovely — you ought to see how 
 charming it is — full up — and there is a waiting list. We 
 already need another house and hope to have one later. 1
 
 ii6 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 could not get my Gallipoli case in at No. 34, to go on with 
 his treatment, which had to stop because he hves so far 
 away. A pound a week would pay his board at No. 34, 
 and he could have daily treatments at the Clinic. It was a 
 pity for him to stop — for his family said he was already 
 better, even after so short a time. 
 
 Of course, no one is interested these days in anything but 
 soldiers — and it 's hard sometimes on our poor civilian 
 patients! A serious case at the Clinic is a girl who takes 
 bromides and veronal. The League is paying her board at 
 No. 34 for a month, while she has treatment daily from 
 Dr. Hector Munro. Such a nice girl — but mad with 
 nerves and the phobia that she can't stand closed-in rooms 
 unless heavily drugged — "claustrophobia," it is called. 
 Another nice girl, one of my new patients, is living at No. 
 34 — I forget whether I wrote you about her. It is "con- 
 version hysteria" — called that because the trouble is 
 converted from mental into physical symptoms. It will be 
 more interesting when 1 can report an improvement. She 
 is quite young, married to an interned German — enough 
 to upset any one! 
 
 Did I tell you of the patient who had (apparent) Graves' 
 Disease — weighed two hundred pounds, and had the 
 staring eyes, quick pulse, and other symptoms? It was 
 supposed to be organic, but after trying analysis at the 
 Clinic, in four and a half months the patient was weighing
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 117 
 
 one hundred and sixty pounds, eyes and pulse normal, 
 and was back at work, bursting with spirits and energy. 
 
 May 19, 1917 
 
 I have four hours of work every afternoon at the 
 Clinic — except on Tuesday afternoon, when so far 1 have 
 only two. My Saturday afternoon and Sunday are my only 
 real rest — and 1 can't be going away every week-end. It 's 
 too tiring, especially as traveling now is not what it used 
 to be — few trains, very crowded always and slow. Three 
 of my patients have been in very difficult stages — which 
 takes it out of one. 
 
 Food is very limited now. One gets enough — plenty — 
 but very little sugar, and other things strictly limited. 1 
 am trying the secretaryship of the League for at least six 
 months. I doubt if 1 can carry it on next winter, for the 
 Clinic work will be much harder than this year. They are 
 raising the standard, and intend it to be a three-year, in- 
 stead of a two-year course! 
 
 Thrilling things are in the air, to do with shell-shock and 
 the Clinic (shell-shock cases discharged from the army 
 unfit for service). Nothing can be done or decided until 
 after Whitsunday, and if anything happens 1 will then tell 
 you all — otherwise 1 will save my breath, as it's only 
 interesting if it comes off! I hope and pray it will.
 
 ii8 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 May 30, 191 7 
 I had a much-needed rest over Whitsunday. Visit- 
 ing is quite different now from in peace times! — very few 
 servants, and such simple food. No pleasure motoring — 
 and the driveways and stable-yards all weeds! Lawns cut 
 only close to the house, etc. In other words, no frills! 
 
 I forgot to say I 've been having more analysis from Dr. 
 Jessie Murray, about twice a week, and am now nearing 
 the end. It is a great help in doing my practical work. 
 The head analyst said to one of the doctors that both 
 
 Mrs. P and I, who are farther on than the others in our 
 
 own analysis, show the result and benefit of it in our work. 
 Several of your friends have said how evidently my work 
 is agreeing with me — and to tell you how well I look. 
 
 I have been elected "rep." — which means "students' 
 representative." All complaints are brought to me, and I 
 represent our interests and point of view to the Heads. 
 Not an easy job for the go-between, I foresee! 
 
 It is very nice that Dr. L and other American doc- 
 tors are to pass through London. I should like them to take 
 up our work as a branch of their own — they'll need to — 
 it is coming in more and more. 
 
 June 6, 191 7 
 
 Much has been happening. Lady C has given 
 
 Dr. Murray, through me, an introduction to Mrs. Parker,
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 119 
 
 who asked her to lunch. Then Dr. M. asked Mrs. P. 
 to lunch at No. 34, to see it and the Clinic — she came 
 yesterday — and saw it all — and loved it. This starts 
 the machinery, as the point of Mrs. Parker's coming is that 
 she, with Sir Frederic Milner, is at the head of an associa- 
 tion in memory of Lord Kitchener, for providing for shell- 
 shock. Money has been promised us, and a place in the 
 country as soon as we can secure the men — but you 
 know what awful red tape there is. Mrs. Parker is just 
 the person to send us men, and she is going to consult with 
 Sir Frederic, who is President of the Association. As soon 
 as the men are sure, Dr. Hector Munro can get money, 
 also the farm which has been offered. So everything is 
 booming! 
 
 Your cable came yesterday — and we will put my Galli- 
 poli boy into No. 34. They find the men can't be boarded 
 under two pounds a week — as food has gone up so much. 
 
 I have a new patient this week — a discharged Tommy. 
 He had four months of analysis last year, was better and 
 had eight or nine months in the army, and is now dis- 
 charged. Analysis helped him so much that he has come 
 back to finish — his trouble is lack of concentration and 
 poor memory. 
 
 More money is needed for No. 33 — the house adjoining 
 34 — to be used for shell-shock in connection with the 
 farm near London, where there are work-shops. The farm
 
 120 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 has been offered free — in case we can get money to run it 
 in connection with the house in town. The work-shops will 
 be just the thing for shell-shock! If we don't get the money 
 soon — we shall lose No. 33, I am afraid. There is to be an 
 Anglo-American Fund, which is starting already. 
 
 June 12, 191 7 
 
 It is not easy to find time to write. I 'm at the Clinic 
 every day from 2 or 2.30 on, and if I am late, starting late 
 means late all the rest of the day, for my patients dovetail 
 in one after the other. Sometimes I can reserve fifteen 
 minutes for tea if a patient can be dismissed promptly at 
 4.15, and the next one comes at 4.30, but more often I can 
 only snatch a cup on the run. 
 
 I am busy over the League, straightening out and sorting 
 things — and the little assistant secretary at the Clinic 
 is delighted to do any typewriting whatever for me. The 
 financial part passes through my hands too. Mrs. Stoddart, 
 wife of Dr. S., is our treasurer. Will you join the League? 
 — of course you will ! And 1 shall put you down for ten 
 shillings a year, as it takes too long to wait and hear from 
 
 you. I want K and S to join too, and will write to 
 
 them. The lowest is two shillings a year, but most people 
 pay more. Small amounts help. 
 
 There were fifty-four treatments given at the Clinic in 
 one day, last week. It's growing fast.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 121 
 
 There are two shell-shock cases who are both simply new 
 men. One, an ex-officer, had constant ideas of suicide and 
 took no interest in anything — and now is keen about 
 things, and trying to buck up other men at the Ex-Officers' 
 Club, where he lives. When he finishes his treatment, he 
 will probably join up again. A second case of shell-shock 
 is a man who had a suicidal mania — and also the fear of 
 strangling his wife. He is so much better that he has 
 gone back, and cannot continue his treatment at present. 
 That's the trouble with so many — they have to work as 
 soon as they're better and feel they can. A third is an ex- 
 Tommy who has neurasthenia. , 
 
 My patient who could n't walk is much better — shufTles 
 along with a stick, and has lost other symptoms altogether 
 — is so happy about it. 
 
 June 20, 191 7 
 
 This is a hectic letter, written at midnight for the 
 early post. Good news — a man has guaranteed us some 
 money, enough to take on No. 33. Of course that's only a 
 beginning — money is needed to staff it and run it. The 
 house is furnished and ready to move into. The man who 
 is giving the money has given before to the Clinic, and 
 helped it on a lot at the start. There's a hitch about some 
 kink in the lease, but it is to be settled tomorrow, and 
 unless that one detail proves unsurmountable, all is well.
 
 122 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 I 've barely heard the gist of it all, in a hurry — we are so 
 thrilled! No. 32 would do equally well, but would cost 
 much more, etc. 
 
 It's just as safe to go to America for my holiday as to 
 stay — for London is n't going to be a haven of safety this 
 summer. Did I write you that I was in the last raid? Four 
 planes went directly over the Clinic — we could see them, 
 and hear the engines and bombs and guns. I was n't a bit 
 frightened at the time, but felt it afterwards. And for a 
 few days at every noise in the distance, I thought "it's a 
 raid" — a horrid jumpy feeling! 
 
 I was lunching with G and S , and they tackled 
 
 me on looking thin — as if I did n't eat enough! Of course 
 
 I do — but one can't always get all one could eat, by any 
 
 means! 
 
 June 26, 19 1 7 
 
 I am back from the week-end in Sussex, where they 
 fed me up marvellously with all the delicacies — I really 
 was hungry! ! We could hear the guns in France distinctly 
 all night — a push was on — and one night they almost 
 kept me awake, not the noise, of course, but the sort of 
 vibration. Some places near by in Sussex don't hear it, and 
 others do. 
 
 Many thanks for the posters which I loved seeing. I 
 have given them to Mrs. Stuart Wilson, as she has some 
 American Tommies to visit, who enjoy them.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 123 
 
 Two hundred pounds or more is promised for No. 33. An 
 Admiral's wife, friend of Dr. Hector Munro, is so inter- 
 ested in our work siie is going to try to get her husband to 
 send us naval shell-shock cases. But it is all held up by 
 red tape. 
 
 The League is having such a lot of expenses that it is 
 getting very low in funds. After paying four pounds for an 
 invalid chair for two Clinic patients who can't walk (the 
 kind of chair adapted for going up and down stairs), we 
 shall have just thirty-three shillings left — is n't it sad! I 
 have got in sixteen new members already — one of whom 
 gave a guinea. The League is paying partial board at No. 
 34 for three patients who need to be there, as their home 
 conditions are bad — and they cannot pay entirely them- 
 selves. We are concocting a letter now, to be sent out when 
 we see what can be said about the new house. No. 33. 
 
 Mr. Balfour has given his name to our Clinic as a patron 
 — isn't it splendid! Cecil Dormer had talked with him 
 
 about it while they were in America — he is Mr. B 's 
 
 private secretary, you know. Lady Glenconner is having 
 a drawing-room this week, at which Dr. Stoddart and Dr. 
 Jessie Murray and others are to speak. No. 34 has helped 
 on our work a lot; it is so charming and every one who sees 
 it approves of our methods. Nothing succeeds like success, 
 does it?
 
 124 /^ THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 JulyS, 191 7 
 I was in the thick of the raid yesterday — here in 
 Dover Street they went directly overhead — and it was 
 rather ghastly, hearing the bombs coming nearer and 
 nearer, and knowing the horrors they must be causing — 
 and wondering if one's self would be the next. I was nearly 
 dressed, and when I saw the street clearing rapidly of peo- 
 ple, every one going under cover, I thought I 'd better go 
 down. Just then the Secretary of the Club knocked at my 
 door, and said, "There's a whole fleet overhead, you'd 
 better go to the cellar." I had an absurd feeling of wanting 
 to pin my collar and cuffs properly, but I solemnly col- 
 lected a few valuables and went down, hating to think that 
 if my room were smashed I might lose all my notes and 
 books, and all the accessories of my work! I found a lot of 
 people in the lower hall, and I did n't see a sign of nerves 
 or fright in any one, though a few looked white. I don't 
 know how I looked, but I felt white — and tired after- 
 wards. It is so awful to think that other people are get- 
 ting killed or hurt, even if you are n't yourself. Soon it 
 was all over, and every one scattered. One aeroplane 
 looked like a silver butterfly in the air — with the sun on 
 it. There were twenty or thirty, but they were too directly 
 overhead — and the roof and glare of the sun prevented 
 
 our seeing them well. J D 's baby was in the Park 
 
 with his nurse, and the concussion of the anti-aircraft guns
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 125 
 
 blew his pram over twice before the nurse could get him 
 away. She took refuge in a house in Park Lane, and had a 
 heart attack! The worst of the raids is that after you've 
 been in one or two, you are always thinking you hear 
 another! 
 
 July 21, 191 7 
 
 There are guns going tonight — distant ones — I 
 often hear them here in my room. There's a b-oo-m now! 
 — it's extraordinary how guns in France are heard here so 
 distinctly, in parts of London. 
 
 One evening I arrived late — after the week-end at 
 
 M , about midnight, as our train got in very late — 
 
 and a lot of men were lined up, half filling the huge station, 
 just off to the front. It made me feel very choky — no 
 bands or fuss — just silence. 
 
 I have been more busy than you can think — what with 
 all my patients, and the exam just over, and League work. 
 I had intended to go away for this week-end, but I simply 
 could n't face the train journey. Am very tired after the 
 exam, and must have a quiet Sunday. 
 
 The exam was very difficult — but interesting, and 1 al- 
 most enjoyed it. We had all-embracing questions such as: 
 "In what sense, if any, do you consider it justifiable to 
 speak of unconscious mental life?" A whacking one, for it 
 entailed a long discussion of the theories of such men as
 
 126 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Bergson, Locke, James, Descartes, Schopenhauer, Hart- 
 mann, Herbart, Fechner, etc., etc. — not in detail, very 
 superficially, of course — tracing how they came to recog- 
 nize the existence of the unconscious mental processes. 
 
 Then, " In what ways is it possible to demonstrate experi- 
 mentally the existence of unconscious mental processes?" 
 That was a whacker too, entailing an account of discov- 
 eries made through hypnosis, Janet's theories and experi- 
 ments on hysteria, and so on — working up to Brewer's 
 and Freud's discoveries, their theories of dissociation, and 
 their introduction of the "cathartic" method — the be- 
 ginning of psycho-analysis. Another was, "To what extent 
 and in what ways is it possible to regard various forms of 
 mental disease as 'regressions' to an earlier stage of men- 
 tal development?" And another, "In what ways is the 
 study of mythology of use in abnormal psychology?" 
 
 These will give you an idea ! 
 
 Nothing has materialized yet out of Mrs. Parker's visit. 
 But as soon as we really get No. 33 we shall let her know. 
 
 Sunday July 22, 1 9 1 7 
 
 The Clinic has given more than thirty-six hundred 
 consultations and treatments in six months — not bad, is 
 it? Of course a lot of doctors on our Staff are now at the 
 front, you know. 
 
 I find that I could go home to America — and our Em-
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 127 
 
 bassy says there's no doubt about my being able to return 
 here to my work. As for U-boats or air-raids, it 's six of one, 
 half a dozen of the other! I think I'd better not go. I 
 would n't hesitate if there were any real need, but it 's 
 different when one goes only for pleasure. Dr. Murray sa}'s 
 I must take a two-months holiday — to be fresh for the 
 autumn. So 1 am going to have a fortnight now, and the 
 
 whole month of September. G and I are taking a 
 
 house for a fortnight — from next Friday — a charming 
 
 cottage (near Southampton) belonging to Mrs. Y , 
 
 with gardens, sea-bathing, sleeping-porch, pony and trap, 
 
 etc. Mrs. B will be there with us, and her husband, 
 
 who is due on leave from France. It will be very nice. The 
 
 Y s are away for only a fortnight — and they let to us 
 
 because we are weary war-workers 1 
 
 Another air-raid this morning, which woke me at 8.30. 
 They were driven off quickly — and the noise only lasted 
 about ten minutes. 
 
 We've taken over No. 33 — but can't have possession 
 until the autumn. At present it is empty, awaiting a thor- 
 ough cleaning. Mrs. Fisher Unwin came to see it all a few 
 days ago, and Dr. Murray had me take her over No. 34. 
 She is wife of the publisher — and has offered us a place in 
 Sussex for the duration of the war, for war-shock. But it 
 may be too inaccessible — just as the farm and work- 
 shops turned out to be — in these times with no motors or
 
 128 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 petrol ! Three country places have been offered us in all — 
 but all too far from London. And, besides, we must get 
 No. 33 going before taking on more expense. We can 
 and must get a. house and grounds given us — nearer 
 London. 
 
 The Clinic is sending out a circular announcing our 
 "Proposed Immediate Extension" for ex-sailors and sol- 
 diers — including three houses directly adjoining the 
 Clinic in Brunswick Square and a house and grounds for 
 convalescence in the environs of London. The appeal is 
 for £25,000. These are some of the grounds for making 
 the appeal: — , 
 
 1. Many nervous disabilities are covered by the term 
 "war-shock," and the methods of the ordinary hospital 
 are of little or no avail in these cases. 
 
 2. If retained in hospitals, notwithstanding the small 
 amount of benefit they receive, they occupy valuable space 
 urgently needed for medical and surgical cases. 
 
 3. The Medico-Psychological Clinic provides the treat- 
 ment they require. In its resources are included the Medi- 
 cal, Electrical, and Physical equipment used in other insti- 
 tutions for treatment of nervous cases. It is at present the 
 only Institution in this country offering the modern psy- 
 chological treatment, which is available only in a few of 
 the army hospitals — etc., etc.
 
 PS YCHO-ANAL YSIS 1 29 
 
 August 15, 191 7 
 Today our Sammies marched through London. It 
 was thrilHng to see the American and British flags flying 
 in celebration. 
 
 What do you suppose 1 am starting! — coaching in 
 mathematics, as there is no study now, and I have a month 
 before I go away again for a rest before the new term opens 
 (on October 9). There is a splendid coach, a cured ex- 
 patient of the Clinic — and luckily she is n't too busy now 
 to take me three times a week. I am working at the Clinic 
 as usual, from 2.30 till about 7 every day. 
 
 I added up today that I have collected over £33 for the 
 League since 1 became Honorary Secretary — and it has 
 been largely in half-crowns and five shiUings. It's really 
 only half-a-crown to join, though many give five shillings. 
 
 If you will tell people, more might join. Mrs. H 
 
 W has just sent me a big subscription. 
 
 I am very pleased that among the responses to the letters 
 I sent out, there has come a five-pound check for the Clinic 
 from a Matron of a London War Hospital (an Honorary 
 Matron for during the war), with a charming letter saying 
 she felt so strongly the need for the proper treatment of 
 war-shock that she would like to help in the extension of 
 our work. She and I have exchanged several letters since, 
 and she is coming tomorrow to see the Clinic, and bringing 
 her Sister-in-charge with her. I have arranged an appoint-
 
 130 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 merit for her with one of the doctors. She wrote that her 
 experience has shown her that the men need continued 
 treatment, not the "month's rest and tonic" that is so 
 often considered adequate! She will be pleased with the 
 Clinic, for we do just what she is looking for. 
 
 We now have one of the Bishops of the Church of Eng- 
 land as a patron, and hope to have Cardinal Bourne, who 
 knows one of our Staff. 
 
 Here is our list of patrons up to date: — 
 
 The Rt. Honble. Arthur Balfour, M.P., Lord Glencon- 
 ner, Lady Glenconner, Lord Leconfield, The Dowager 
 Lady Leconfield, Lady Sutherland, The Countess of 
 Wemyss, His Grace the Duke of Westminster, The Rt. 
 Rev. The Bishop of Winchester, The Countess of Yar- 
 borough. 
 
 You ask about American war-shock. I don't know 
 
 whether any will be treated in England. Mr. X of the 
 
 Embassy told me one day that none of our wounded are 
 to come to England at all — so 1 imagine what he said 
 covers war-shock as well. 
 
 August 19, 1917 
 
 My patients are getting on splendidly. The one 
 who could n't walk shuffles now with positive agility, and 
 is greatly pleased with analysis. I have a new patient as 
 well, who started two days ago. I get perfectly good food.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 131 
 
 so you are not to worry! I have malted tablets with me 
 at the Clinic, in case of need. 
 
 London is lovely now, sunny and cool, unusual weather 
 for August — everything pretty empty, as people who can 
 are away, if only for a week or two. 
 
 Dined with R at the Berkeley the other night — a 
 
 highly camouflaged dinner — as expensive as ever and 
 
 nothing to eat. 
 
 August 30, 1917 
 
 As for a description of our work "which could be 
 grasped by the lay mind," there is no such thing — so I 
 take good care not to write one! Nobody can understand it 
 until they've experienced it — that's why every one must 
 be analyzed before they can become analysts. People think 
 that to read the literature on psycho-analysis is enough to 
 enable them to judge of it. They write profound criticisms 
 which are of very little value, and the youngest student at 
 our Clinic who has undergone analysis knows more about 
 it than they do! 
 
 One reason why Freud has been so criticized is because 
 he says comparatively little of sublimation, which is really 
 the main point of analysis. Sublimation is the raising of 
 the moral tone — the discharge of energy at a higher level 
 — and that is what analysis makes possible. Analysis 
 brings up into consciousness the conflicts which are caus- 
 ing trouble, and using up energy in the unconscious. These
 
 132 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 conflicts then come under the control of the subject's will 
 power, and can be solved in consciousness. This process 
 naturally brings about a more satisfactory adjustment to 
 environment, and does away with much waste of energy 
 due to repression. Such repression has been of no moral 
 value, because it was unconscious. 
 
 I am, as "rep," trying to pick up second-hand things for 
 our new Common Room. It is the big front basement- 
 room at the Clinic, formerly the sitting-room of the Secre- 
 tary, and we students are rejoicing in the prospect of a 
 Common Room to ourselves, to have tea and sit about in. 
 The room is charming, big and airy and light, though in the 
 basement — an oak dresser set into the wall, etc. We want 
 to have it very simple, in the style of No. 34 — plain imita- 
 tion-oak tables and chairs, and plenty of big comfy arm- 
 chairs. The little tables will be in quiet corners, for writ- 
 ing up our Clinic notes, and we shall have lockers to keep 
 our papers in. As our numbers increase, all this is neces- 
 sary. We shall have a tea-club, the practical side of it run 
 by the little clerk of the laboratory, Miss Brownjohn. We 
 now pay the Clinic for our tea, fourpence a time, but it will 
 cost us less probably as a tea-club! I have so far only got a 
 pair of dark blue armchairs, second-hand but perfectly 
 clean and comfortable, for thirty-five shillings each — a 
 bargain! Will you give five pounds for more easy-chairs? 
 I know you will, and have told Dr. Murray so.
 
 PSYCHO-ANALYSIS 133 
 
 The fact that they give warning now of raids is a relief — 
 although the warning is nearly as bad as a raid and gener- 
 ally causes a few deaths from shock, among people with 
 weak hearts! But for the rest of us it's a benefit. 
 
 Sister Vera is Assistant Matron at the Royal Flying 
 Corps Hospital and is now in charge for a few weeks while 
 the Matron is away. She rang up yesterday to ask if 1 
 could n't go there for a month as pro., but of course I 
 can't — I wish I could! 
 
 CABLEGRAM 
 
 London, September 6, 1917 
 Postponing Clinic work until January. With doctor's 
 approval going drive ambulance front. Attached French 
 Army. Starting about seventeenth. You come Paris later. 
 
 Dexter.
 
 IV. FRANCE
 
 Amiens 
 
 MarnO" 
 
 Montdidler 
 
 Cugny 
 
 OFlavy-kinii^rbel 
 
 Noyon 
 
 •^ 
 
 .o» 
 
 5© 
 
 ."R..A 
 
 /5 
 
 Compiegne 
 
 .^€ 
 
 ;i&« 
 
 5oi550ris 
 
 Crei( 
 OSenl/s 
 
 O Villers-Cotterets 
 
 d(i$.t:ea^u.-Th/'er» 
 
 Mea^ux, 
 
 PARIS 
 
 SCALE-MILE5 
 O S >0 IS zo 
   I I I i 1 -I 
 
 SKETCH MAP OF A PART OF THE WESTERN FRONT
 
 London, September lo, 1917 
 
 Dearest Mother: — 
 
 Isn't it all very exciting! 1 heard of the chance 
 through Dr. Hector Munro, but hardened my heart at 
 first, and said 1 could n't possibly go on account of my 
 work here. However, I went to see Miss Lowther who is 
 head of the Unit, now at home on leave, and she said she 
 would take me for three months, instead of the four which 
 is the usual limit. So 1 decided to go. Of course, if No. 33 
 were running, full of war-shock patients, I would n't dream 
 of it, as I should be needed here. But as it is I can be 
 spared now, and can make up next year this autumn term 
 that I lose. Dr. Murray advised me strongly to go — she 
 feels I have worked so hard that a complete change and 
 outdoor life will do me a world of good. Of course, as you 
 know, it has been hard to settle down in London to work, 
 when I was aching for a bit more of active service, and it 
 seems almost too good to be true, to get this opportunity 
 to go abroad without interfering with my real work. It's 
 like eating one's cake and having it too! 
 
 It's the Hackett-Lowther Unit I am joining — Miss 
 H. runs the canteen, and Miss L. the motor part, which 
 consists of about eighteen ambulances. The Unit is offi- 
 cially attached to the French Army, by special permission
 
 138 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 of General Petain himself, the first women to be so attached. 
 Miss Lowther ranks as second Heutenant. The uniform is 
 very smart — khaki, of course. Coat like British officers' 
 tunics, with big square pockets and a leather belt — but no 
 leather shoulder strap. Short skirt, coming below the 
 knees, breeches underneath, and big high trench boots, with 
 thick soles. We have claret-colored collars, with the auto- 
 mobile grenade signs of the French Army and a special cap 
 — French military pattern. 1 can't have mine till I get out 
 there, so am obliged to travel in an ordinary soft khaki 
 felt hat such as the W.V.R. wear. Then I have got a big 
 trench coat (like what the officers wear) — mackintosh 
 outside with a detachable fleece lining, which is a coat in 
 itself for dry weather. The whole thing is wonderfully 
 warm, and entirely waterproof. Also fur-lined gauntlets, 
 waterproof gloves, waterproof high boots, etc. 
 
 Our shirts are men's flannel, with ordinary soft collar and 
 silk tie, all khaki color. At night we have to wear very 
 warm flannel pyjamas and bed-socks. We take a big sleep- 
 ing-bag, a camp bed (army pattern), a rubber bath, enamel 
 plates, fork, spoon, and knife, etc. For although at our 
 headquarters we have comfortable quarters and a cook — 
 things will be quite different as we are sent forward. I am 
 taking meat tablets and Horlick's malted milk tablets, 
 cakes of chocolate, and a thermos — and a thousand other 
 little things I can't remember at the moment. We are al-
 
 FRANCE 139 
 
 lowed very little luggage, only what one can (supposedly) 
 carry one's self — though 1 should be sorry to have to carry 
 my bag, kit-bag, and camp bed myself! I wish you could 
 see my lovely boots! 
 
 I warned Miss Lowther that I have not had anything to 
 do lately with the insides of motors — but we talked it 
 over, and she thinks 1 will do. 1 got an instructor from the 
 Motor Schools, fresh from the front, and he tested my driv- 
 ing by putting me through all sorts of stunts, and then 
 created break-downs for me to find and put right. He also 
 gave me good advice as to goggles and odds-and-ends. 
 
 1 gave our Ambassador and Cecil Dormer as references 
 at the French Red Cross. They ask for two men who have 
 known one over two years. I '11 let you know my address 
 out there as soon as I know it. Miss Lowther says letters 
 come by auto convois from Paris about four times a week, 
 so you must write often. I 'm afraid you won't be able to 
 supply me with things as you did when I was at La Panne. 
 Miss Lowther says it took five months once for some tooth 
 powder to reach her! 
 
 My latest acquisition is a silver identity disc with my 
 name, Hackett-Lowther Unit, and my passport number on 
 it. We wear them on our wrists, the same as the soldiers, 
 and they are quite a chic form of chain bracelet! The Em- 
 bassy had to cable to Washington to have France put on 
 my passport, as my latest one has n't it. You can imagine
 
 140 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 how thrilled I am — I 've nursed the British and the Bel- 
 gians, and am so glad to have a chance to do my bit for 
 the French. 
 
 I miss my Clinic work, and would be miserable if I 
 were n't soon coming back to it. My patients were rather 
 upset when they heard I would be away three months, and 
 I have had nice letters from them. 
 
 Lady X works at the Eagle Hut in the Strand, 
 
 being an American, and has asked me to come in and see it. 
 
 September 17, 191 7 
 
 I forgot to tell you that the last raid was at mid- 
 night, and they got us all downstairs. It was too funny — 
 a sort of peignoir parade — fifteen or twenty solemn and 
 dishevelled women — and in one corner all the servants. 
 I would n't have missed it for anything. 
 
 Many thanks for your cable of God-speed, but I am, 
 alas, not speeded yet ! Delays owing to papers still on the 
 way from Paris — the usual thing, but very tiresome. All 
 my clothes are packed, as we may start any minute, and I 
 am wearing uniform and improving the shining hours by 
 having lessons in motor repairs. 
 
 September 25, 19 17 
 
 I saw Miss Lowther this morning. The papers have 
 come — and 1 could go any day now, but am to wait and
 
 FRANCE 141 
 
 go out with her. There are two cars to go, and she wants 
 me to drive the second. So I shall be here another week. 
 We go to Southampton, spend a night on the boat to 
 Havre, and then drive to Paris first — then on to our head- 
 quarters, it will be fun. Remember my letters from 
 France will be so censored that they'll be dull — the only 
 interest will be in the fact that we shall be so far front, 
 and that we're the only women attached to the French 
 Army. 
 
 Last night was the raidiest raid London has had yet. I 
 dare not tell you any particulars — but it was very, very 
 near indeed that one bomb fell — the house shook. I was 
 
 dining at the Sesame Club with Mrs. A and we sat in 
 
 the dark in the hall. We saw flashes overhead, and finally, 
 when it got too near to be worth risking any longer, we 
 went into a downstairs room where there is the least glass. 
 The servants were huddled in a corner, and one of the 
 kitchen-maids fainted. They did n't even know enough to 
 lay her on the floor — so I went to the rescue. There were 
 a lot of ladies already there — knitting — very nervous, 
 but calm. One had a small electric torch, and the others 
 got thoroughly incensed with her because she would flash 
 it into their faces! 
 
 You know the gardens that your flat looked out on. 
 The house those gardens belong to has n't a pane of glass 
 today !
 
 142 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 September 26, 191 7 
 I am hard at it in the mechanical line these days, 
 and luckily fell into the hands of a very enterprising 
 (French) instructor, who does not spare himself or me. I 
 am having lessons every day — mending inner tubes (vul- 
 canizing), soldering, etc. — getting hot and dirty. My 
 instructor puts things wrong with the engine on the road, 
 and I have to find them — splendid practice. Yesterday 
 he took the cap off the hind wheel valve, and I had to 
 change the stepney wheel in the road in the blazing sun. 
 He makes me do it every bit myself, looking on very criti- 
 cally, and reminding me, "the blesses are waiting"! It is 
 Providence that I had the time, as I needed the lessons. 
 Really it was cheek on my part to gaily offer myself as a 
 driver, knowing as little as I did of mechanical repairs! 
 Anyhow, it 's all right now. 
 
 Another attempt at a raid last night — but a feeble one. 
 It was the first time I have ever seen the "TAKE COVER" 
 notices in the streets. I was on top of a bus on my way to 
 dine in Chelsea, when they came. Boys on bicycles bawl- 
 ing, "Take cover!" — with big placards from their should- 
 ers, back and front. A minute or two later the guns were 
 potting — quite near — and I won't say that I lingered 
 
 along the Embankment on my way to Mrs. B 's house! 
 
 However, in ten minutes they were driven off, and we 
 dined in peace.
 
 FRANCE 143 
 
 Tonight if there is a raid (and there will be if the weather 
 permits) my instructor, who drives an ambulance evenings, 
 is going to call for me to take me in the Rolls-Royce am- 
 bulance wherever he may go — and 1 think that as 1 am in 
 uniform, I might be allowed to help. This is the "raid 
 week," and the Huns are reported to be coming every 
 night, on account of the moon, it's their last really good 
 chance before the winter! And I dare say that they still 
 hope to terrorize London. 1 just wish they could see the 
 calm way London takes it. Two nights ago, during the 
 worst one London has ever had, actors continued placidly 
 to act, musicians did not miss a note, though the brutes 
 were just overhead, and the noise pretty loud. 
 
 Don't think I am giving up my Clinic work — this is 
 only a holiday — the other my life-work. I am missing it 
 already! 
 
 October 2, 191 7 
 
 This is an appalling week — raids like clock-work 
 
 every night. Mrs. H 's butler inquired whether his 
 
 mistress "would dine before or after the raid"! That was 
 early in the week — now there is no question — every one 
 dines before, to make sure of it ! — the servants being not 
 dependable, and no wonder. I have a bit of shell and 
 shrapnel which were found on the doorstep — they hit 
 the big closed doors of my club. Shrapnel peppers every-
 
 144 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 where, and in Dover Street when there's a lull, the little 
 club pages dash out and hunt for it! 
 
 October 7, 1 9 1 7 
 
 Thank fortune, the raid week is over! It was a big 
 strain for London. 
 
 October 12, 1917 
 
 We are off on Monday at last — Miss Lowther and 
 
 I — after a month's wait. As M says, one has yet to 
 
 hear of the man, woman, or Unit which really started for 
 the front at the time proposed — nobody does it! Three 
 or four more will follow in a fortnight with more ambu- 
 lances. The Chalmers is not ready, so I am to drive a new 
 car, a G.M.C. (American) given to Miss Lowther by her 
 cousin. Lord L , as President of the British Sports- 
 men's Association. I spent two hours this afternoon with 
 her at the garage, learning its idiosyncrasies. It is a lovely 
 big gray ambulance, with Hackett-Lowther Unit, French 
 Red Cross, etc., painted on it in red. I have sheaves of 
 official documents from the French Red Cross — a lot for 
 myself and another lot for the car, every detail of which is 
 entered into. Also papers to insure special rates on the 
 boat, etc. They give us our petrol, of course.
 
 u 
 
 d
 
 FRANCE 145 
 
 Caiidebec-en-Caiix 
 
 Thursday, October 19, 1917 
 
 We started Monday from London, and motored to 
 Southampton, arriving about 4.30 p.m. Miss Lowther's car 
 — a six cylinder Wolseley — could have come much faster, 
 but my G.M.C. is regulated to go only twenty-five miles 
 an hour. So she had to hold back for fear of losing me, 
 and I got all her dust and was as black as a sweep when 
 we reached Southampton! The French Red Cross had re- 
 served staterooms for us, and space for the two ambu- 
 lances, but we found that owing to a mistake the staterooms 
 had not been kept, and the boat very full. So we passed 
 the night wrapped up in a sheltered corner of the deck. A 
 squall came up, to help matters, and it was too cold and 
 wet for words. Sea-water broke over the cars all night, 
 and got into the engines — and the next morning at Havre 
 we had a fearful time to start them. We were so delayed 
 that we could n't leave that day, as there was a heap of 
 red tape to go through. So we spent Tuesday night at the 
 Continental and revelled in hot baths and real beds. I 
 had n't had my clothes off, nor my big trench boots, for 
 thirty-six hours — and had gotten so horribly dusty into 
 the bargain. 
 
 It was a lovely run from Havre on. We did n't intend 
 to stop here, but Miss Lowther has suddenly developed an 
 acute attack of neuritis or intercostal neuralgia. So here
 
 146 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 we are, held up a day or two, in this enchanting little old- 
 world village on the river Caux. It was an awful moment 
 when I thought she had pleurisy, in a place like this with 
 only a local doctor — but she is up today, a little better. 
 
 I nearly forgot to tell you that we are not alone — we 
 are accompanied by a pedigree Pekinese ! 1 ! It is for 
 a woman in Paris who does not mind spending fifty 
 pounds for a pet dog in these times. I shall never believe 
 in future that pedigree dogs are delicate — that this one 
 has survived the trip proves an iron constitution. We have 
 done the best we can for it, but imagine a pet dog in a 
 satin-lined basket, on a trip like this! We take turns carry- 
 ing it into the dining-rooms en route, braving the amused 
 looks of people who are obviously saying to themselves, 
 "What fools some women are — who must even take their 
 pet dogs to the front ! !" 
 
 I like my G.M.C. immensely. The front seat is es- 
 pecially nice, as it is very sheltered, and a sort of canvas 
 keeps the wind and rain off my knees and arms. You 
 should have seen me in my overalls yesterday, underneath 
 its big body, oiling! 
 
 Tomorrow we go on to Rouen, though I feel uneasy about 
 Miss Lowther travelling — and Sunday to Paris. Miss 
 Hackett is meeting us there, as there is a lot of red tape 
 about our new cars before they go to the front — they 
 have to be militarises. More drivers and cars come out
 
 FRANCE 147 
 
 very soon from England, so that we shall be eighteen 
 altogether. 
 
 We drivers have to have our carnets rouges from the 
 Ministere de la Guerre. They are red books with one's 
 photograph authorizing one to go into the war zone. 
 
 Hotel des Champs-Ely sees, Paris 
 
 IVednesday, October 24, 191 7 
 
 It really is bad luck — here we are stuck for good- 
 ness knows how long. Poor Miss Lowther is in bed in earn- 
 est now with acute pleurisy. 1 tried my best to keep her 
 quietly at Caudebec a few days longer, but there was no 
 holding her. 1 did all 1 could to spare her on the trip, and 
 it was better to get on to where there are doctors. We 
 reached Rouen Saturday afternoon, and came on here 
 Sunday. That night her temperature was over 102 — and 
 the pain very severe — and I could n't get a doctor until 
 the next morning. Lord and Lady Esher (she is treasurer 
 of our Unit) recommended a first-rate English doctor 
 whom I flew and got. Imagine poor Miss Lowther's feel- 
 ings — just when she is frantically busy completing her 
 Unit. She has had three more cars offered since we left 
 London, and the whole Unit is to be militarized during 
 these days in Paris. Now, of course, it's all delayed — 
 and it is maddening for her. 
 
 I found yesterday that she was worrying — quite nat-
 
 148 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 urally, of course — at my being kept here nursing when I 
 came out to drive an ambulance. She said I must go on to 
 the headquarters at Cugny, but I told her that I love being 
 for a bit in Paris, that I am au fond even more of a nurse 
 than a chauffeuse! I have no wish to stay in Paris when 
 I might be at the front, but of course I will not leave her 
 yet. It is particularly trying when my time is limited, but 
 one must be philosophical, and live from day to day. 
 
 Miss Lowther has at last got her eighteen ambulances. 
 People say it is one of the biggest things women have done 
 in the war — to get a whole motor section of eighteen cars 
 attached to the army. 
 
 Miss Hackett is Irish — she has been at the front since 
 the very beginning, and has the Croix de Guerre for look- 
 ing after wounded in a station-yard, under bombardment. 
 
 Paris, October 31, 1917 
 
 Miss Lowther has been much worse. It was a near 
 thing — and for two days we were all very anxious, but 
 now I am glad to say she is out of danger. They finally 
 took her to the Astoria, the big military hospital in the 
 Champs filysees near by. She is the first woman who has 
 ever been a patient there. They took her on account of 
 her belonging to the French army. 
 
 I had to take my car to the work-shop of the British 
 Ambulance two days ago, as there were a lot of things
 
 FR/INCE 149 
 
 reeding attention. The head man showed me a car which 
 was hit three times by shells — it's just a tousled mass 
 of twisted ribbon now. Each time it was hit they put it 
 right — till the third time was too much! The driver 
 was n't touched. Another that interested me was a G.M.C., 
 a twin of mine, in a state of pulp. 
 
 Paris, November 4, 1917 
 Miss Hackett returned last evening from Com- 
 pi^gne, and brought me a lovely fat pile of letters. 
 
 Miss Repton, our second in command, and Miss G 
 
 arrived Friday night with the Daimler and the Chalmers. 
 And now we, the first batch, shall soon be militarized and 
 off for Cugny. 
 
 We went to order our helmets — "champignons de fer " 
 we call them. The Army \^•ould give them to us, but we 
 prefer to order an extra size, on account of our hair taking 
 up room. They are nasty heavy things held on with a 
 strap under the chin, otherwise if one stooped or lay down 
 they'd fall off. 1 hear the English ones are lighter, but I 
 
 did n't know in time to get one there. Miss G and two 
 
 others who are coming out next week are just back from a 
 year in Russia and Roumania — driving ambulances — 
 where they took part in some of those big retreats, and had 
 all sorts of thrillingly interesting experiences. 
 
 I have spent this afternoon buying sheets and pillow-
 
 150 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 slips and blankets for refugees. They are reconstructing 
 villages near Cugny — places the Huns destroyed. Miss 
 Hackett and the Eshers have just had thirteen hundred 
 francs given them for bedding. I got estimates for dozens 
 and dozens, making the money go as far as possible, and 
 came out within one franc of the amount — which amused 
 them! 
 
 Paris, November 15, 191 7 
 
 Just a month today since Miss Lowther and I left 
 London! Who would have dreamed we should still be in 
 Paris by now! I must say I have enjoyed the month here 
 immensely, on the whole, though it is n't what I came out 
 for, and I long to get on to work. 
 
 All the red tape is finished now, and we are a militarized 
 Unit. You should see our Statutes! Each one of us is 
 given a copy of the part which applies to her. Everything 
 is stated, to do with the organization and running of the 
 Unit, our duties and privileges. We are all voluntary, of 
 course. We have a French army officer at our head, over 
 Miss Lowther, and an army mechanic, cook, and orderly 
 attached to us. We are given army rations, and they allow 
 us to choose our own billets (1 forget the French word), as 
 otherwise what would be given us would be rougher and 
 dirtier than necessary. We shall get all the ravitaillements 
 for the cars given us — essence (as they call petrol), oil,
 
 FR/INCE 151 
 
 tires, etc. — and we have a revitaillement book for each 
 car, in which a record of all supplies is entered. We can 
 leave only at the end of every six months, by giving a 
 month's notice — while if we are staying on, we get four- 
 teen days' leave every six months, provided there are four 
 fifths of the Unit always there. 
 
 So you see, 1 am under martial law and tied for six 
 months! If I left before, 1 should be shot at dawn for de- 
 sertion! ! ! So there's no doubt in regard to my plans. 
 
 1 cabled yesterday telling you that 1 am starting defi- 
 nitely on the 20th. 
 
 This morning I spent at the garage — "decanting" es- 
 sence out of big barrels into little ordinary five-litre bidons 
 ready for use. Tomorrow I must get into my overalls, and 
 give the G.M.C. a thorough oiling to be ready for the run 
 to Cugny. She is much more complicated as regards oiling 
 than most cars — not like the Fords which need so little 
 care. 
 
 A thing that entertains me greatly here is the way people 
 speak to us on account of our being in uniform. The other 
 day we had the cars out to go to the other side of Paris and 
 bring back some huge bidons of essence. I was in my ambu- 
 lance outside a shop in the rue de Rivoli, waiting for the 
 others to join me, and at least six people spoke to me. 
 Sometimes they know Miss Hackett, or of her, and want to 
 ask about the work — sometimes they are just interested,
 
 152 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 or want to ask if we know so-and-so at the front! One 
 French girl asked me why I thought some friend of hers 
 had n't been to Paris yet on leave! 
 
 Did I tell you that all Paris takes lemon in its tea now? 
 — no milk allowed except for invalids and babies. Apart 
 from that, and no cakes on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, 
 you would never think there is a war on. Such good food 
 and too much of it — all the tea-places packed as usual, 
 though with quite a different lot of people, for none of the 
 really best French people are to be seen anywhere — 
 they're all working. 
 
 Elysee Palace Hotel, 
 
 Paris, November i8, 191 7 
 
 Just a few lines tonight. I enclose the heading of 
 our Unit note-paper, as it may interest you to see the defi- 
 nition of our work: — 
 
 Hackett-Lowther Unit 
 CEuvRE Anglaise D'Utilite G^nerale 
 Ambulances et Cantines aux Armies 
 
 My car had a narrow escape today. I left her outside 
 the hotel, and when I came out and cranked her, to my 
 horror she started merrily off by herself backward into the 
 Champs Elysees ! I had visions of a crash in the traffic, and 
 chased her and leaped on board — and just stopped her at
 
 FRANCE 153 
 
 the corner. A small page had been playing with the gears 
 while I was in the hotel, and had left them in reverse. 
 
 Miss Lowther is much better — she improved with leaps 
 and bounds as soon as she began to get the good food here. 
 She is a most attractive person — the best fencer and ten- 
 nis player in England, and has beaten many Continental 
 men fencers, in other days she used to play tennis with 
 the Kaiser's sons and beat them — which they hated! 
 
 She insisted on going to the Alhambra this afternoon. 1 
 was sure it would do her good, and it did — in a closed 
 taxi, well wrapped up. A Frenchman sitting just behind 
 us leaned forward and asked very politely what we be- 
 longed to — so Miss Lowther told him we are an Ambu- 
 lance Unit attached to the troisieme armee, etc. " L'armee 
 anglaise," he said — and when she explained it was 
 "l'armee franfaise," he looked politely incredulous! No 
 one can believe it at first, and small wonder, considering 
 it has only been true ten days, and we have n't begun work 
 yet! There are heaps of women driving for the English 
 army, and for the French — an American woman spoke 
 to me in the street yesterday who has been chauffmg for 
 the French near Amiens for some months. But there are 
 none who are actually driving ambulances attached to an 
 army, going up to the postes de secours, and under fire, 
 as we shall be. 
 
 Miss Lowther and Mile, de M. start south for Arcachon,
 
 154 ^^ T'HE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 the lung place, on Thursday, and Miss Hackett and I are 
 staying to see them off. Then me for the Front — three 
 cheers! 
 
 [On Active Service] 
 
 [Cugny,] November 24, 19 17 
 
 Here I am! Came through from Paris yesterday, 
 bringing Miss Hackett with me. We left the gates of Paris 
 at 1 1.30 and got here at 5.30 (one hundred and thirty kilo- 
 metres), stopping at Senlis for lunch and at Compiegne for 
 letters. You can imagine how thrillingly interesting the 
 trip was. The minute one gets into the war zone everything 
 changes — parts of the country we came through were very 
 bare, with the remains of trenches, and not a tree stand- 
 ing _ the sort of thing we are all so familiar with in the 
 cinema war pictures. Miss Hackett showed me a bit that 
 for some time had been No Man's Land. But now one sees 
 the effects of recultivation, and in parts there are beauti- 
 fully green fields. The little inn where we lunched was at 
 one time the headquarters of Von Kluck and Prince Eitel 
 Fritz — the houses opposite have only their walls standing. 
 We passed through Noyon without stopping. The two 
 spires are beautiful, rising above the town — one is thank- 
 ful the Hun has spared them. Then later a little village 
 which was absolutely in ruins — the silhouette against the 
 sunset made me think of Pompeii. There were trenches
 
 FRANCE 155 
 
 there — crossing the road — which have been filled in just 
 lately, after the Boches were pushed back. 
 
 It was difficult driving as it got dark. The huge dark- 
 gray camions (trucks) are almost invisible until they are 
 close — they carry no lights and are very wide — difficult 
 to pass on narrow roads in a sea of mud. I found it quite 
 a strain on my eyes — though one will have to get used to 
 it, of course. One must. 
 
 Our baraque is very rough, just a long wooden shed. 
 The front door opens into a living-room, with a dining- 
 table, stove, etc., and from it runs a long narrow passage 
 straight through, with all our cubicles opening off. It is all 
 very fragile, of course — you must not lean against the 
 walls too hard! There is a legend that once when the can- 
 teen, which is a twin shed alongside of us, was filled full of 
 poilus, others, trying to get in, nearly pushed the walls 
 down — they had to be straightened the next day! It does 
 not pretend to be air-tight, and imagine the cold! Just 
 now it is very mild, but I am picturing to myself what it 
 will be when the weather changes. My first night in my 
 sleeping-bag was not a very happy one — the bed is nearly 
 as hard as the floor, and the bag narrow. However, one 
 gets accustomed to anything. We have rubber baths, but 
 the difficulty is to get more than a tea-cupful of hot water. 
 Our cubicles are guiltless of furniture, and 1 brought an iron 
 table and chair with me.
 
 156 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Cugny is a little village, somewhat battered, five miles 
 from the trenches; but on the whole the Huns left it in 
 fairly good shape. They had to retire in a great hurry, I am 
 told — and had n't time to do much damage. There are 
 roofless cottages all about us, however. 
 
 When we got here yesterday the canteen was in full 
 swing, packed with poilus — smoking and singing — the 
 gramophone going — and such a noise! There is a little 
 stage at one end of the hall — and a library — and note- 
 paper for them to write letters. It is open from 5.30 to 8 
 every afternoon, and on Sundays from 2 to 4 as well — 
 coffee given free — and they love it. It is generally differ- 
 ent lots of men who come, as they are just going to, or just 
 from, the trenches. 
 
 [Cugny,] Sunday, November 25, 19 17 
 
 The canteen is a bit short-handed today, as Miss 
 Hackett and three others had to go to Noyon, and two more 
 are away for a few days, gone to Nevers to get a new car 
 which has been given us. So one of the other drivers and I 
 were left in charge this afternoon. I stayed at one end of 
 the hall and ran the gramophone, and gave out tobacco 
 
 and games, and Miss G at the other end distributed 
 
 books and note-paper. There is an orderly who is always 
 there to help us. We often get a rough lot in, and occasion- 
 ally some are drunk, but generally they are very well-
 
 THE TWO BARAQUES 
 The left-hand one is the canteen 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE CANTEEN
 
 FRANCE 157 
 
 behaved, and if not, are quickly put out. They love the 
 music, and I had about fifty sitting at my end hstening. 
 It is not the warmest place on earth to sit for two hours, 
 no floor but the ground! ! 1 was glad of my huge thick 
 trench boots. 
 
 1 wish you could hear the roar outside going on now. 
 The street is full of soldiers waiting for the canteen to re- 
 open at 5.30. I must stop writing and go back to help with 
 the coffee. 
 
 Later 
 
 I wish you could have seen the canteen — crammed, 
 not an inch of floor-room anywhere. There were five hun- 
 dred men in there, if not more. Miss Hackett thought they 
 might be rough, but so far they have been Iambs, hushing 
 each other every time a new tune starts on the gramophone. 
 
 It is interesting to do a bit of canteen work, and 1 enjoy 
 it — but we shan't have time, of course, when we start our 
 own work. We have to keep our ambulances as best we 
 can, in a barn here, and a shed there. But we hear that 
 tomorrow some troops are moving on and we are to have 
 a better place. The mud is very deep and slimv- ever\'- 
 where. I scraped my car with a stick to-day to get off a 
 top layer. 
 
 We are not anything to do with the Red Cross. They 
 helped us to come out from London, and provided our
 
 158 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 essence, etc., as far as Paris. But once one is militarized, 
 the army does all that. Of course, we have red crosses on 
 all our ambulances, back, sides, and top. Our Unit is so 
 well known — the cars and uniform — that our carnets 
 rouges were not looked at coming through from Paris. 
 
 [Cugny,] December i, 19 17 
 
 Thursday was Thanksgiving Day — I did n't re- 
 member it at the time, but it happened that I went to a 
 lunch that day. Miss Hackett and three of us were invited 
 
 by the officer commanding the , near here, in a little 
 
 village ^ which is utterly in ruins. It still boasts a railway 
 station, however, so is important in that way. We had 
 lunch in a house with no roof left — or rather in a little 
 room, formerly a pantry, which had been built on and had 
 retained its roof. The officers sleep in baraques like ours 
 here, except that theirs are lined and very warm. There 
 were ten of them, and we had quite a decent lunch. Oysters 
 (poor), brains (sheep!), cutlets and cabbage, cheese, jam 
 and coffee. 1 did n't know they were brains, and thought 
 it quite a good kind of sweetbreads! 
 
 We hear guns off and on, but things are quiet just now. 
 One doesn't notice much unless it is very near. It's 
 strange how I don't mind them here as 1 do in London — I 
 suppose it's because they "belong" here. Sometimes we 
 
 ^ Flavy-le-Martel.
 
 ONE OF THE CUBICLES 
 
 A FEW OF US
 
 FR/INCE 159 
 
 go outside after dark to watch the flashes of the guns on 
 the ^ front, hghting up the horizon. 
 
 We had orders to move in six days, and I was quite sorry 
 • — as I had been here so short a time. But now it has been 
 cancelled — one lives from day to day and never knows 
 what the next hour will bring forth. 1 n the meantime 1 am 
 settled rather comfortably in my cubicle. 1 have built a 
 luxurious wash-stand out of empt>' cartridge cases — also 
 something somewhat resembling a chest of drawers! 
 
 We have frequent rain, and the mud is like the movies — 
 I can't say more! The sun actually came out today, and 
 I photographed a ruined house or two, near by here. 1 
 have n't much time, though, as I am working every day on 
 my G.M.C. Being a new car she needs a lot of oiling and 
 greasing and you would have laughed if you could have 
 seen me this afternoon after an hour underneath her — 
 simply one mass of oil and mud 1 was. A hot bath would 
 be a luxury that we don't allow ourselves to think of. 
 
 Did 1 tell you that Cugny was occupied for two jears by 
 the Boches — they have only been out of the place for five 
 or six months. Several new drivers arrived last week, 
 who were with the Scottish Women's Hospitals in Russia 
 and Roumania and Serbia. 
 
 It is awfully difficult to get essence (gasoline). If people 
 at home realized no one would motor for pleasure. They 
 
 1 St. Quentin front. 
 
 ^
 
 i6o IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 have a horrible way of giving kerosene in essence bidons, 
 and it is difficult to tell the difference, as the essence is so 
 poor and oily now. You will realize how bad it is when I 
 tell you that it won't take oil spots out of our clothes — 
 it 's too oily itself. And when we get kerosene by mistake, 
 it is maddening — most cars won't run on it, and it settles 
 in streaks in the tank. So sometimes you go all right, and 
 sometimes you don't. 
 
 [Cugny,] Sunday, December 2, 19 17 
 
 A lovely clear day today, but oh, so cold! We hear 
 the English rejected this baraque some time ago when there 
 was talk of their coming here, as not fit to live in! It is n't, 
 really, not being lined. It was a mistake — built in hot 
 weather. There is a stove, which requires constant care 
 not to smoke copiously, and we burn kindling in it — can't 
 get coal. The stove is in the living-room, and as they 
 could n't get enough piping to bring any heat to the other 
 end, those of us at the back might almost as well be out- 
 doors! However, c'est la guerre. 
 
 I hear from Miss Lowther from Arcachon that she is get- 
 ting on well. She was very bored at going there, and is 
 threatening to return much sooner than the doctors will 
 hear of. We are anxious about her standing the cold 
 here. 
 
 A few days ago a colonel told Miss Hackett that his men
 
 FRANCE i6i 
 
 had never got off to the trenches in such good condition as 
 after their stop here, thanks to the canteen — was n't it 
 nice? The men can't believe the coffee and note-paper and 
 tobacco are free. They edge up, and look — and finally 
 push one man forward to try. And when they see it is free 
 they surge forward — and are so grateful. It is better for 
 some armies to pay a little — our American Army, for in- 
 stance, who can afford it. But these poor poilus on five 
 sous a day really appreciate not having to. 
 
 An avion Boche ^ has just been playing about overhead. 
 Lots of guns today — we hear that the next village but 
 one, along near us, had sixty-two shells in it in a few hours, 
 no one hurt but a horse. The village was already in ruins, 
 so there was nothing much more to be done in that 
 line! 
 
 I am sorry my letters are so untidy, but there are always 
 people talking all about — and one can't write in one's 
 cubicle, it is so fearfully cold. It 's impossible to keep warm 
 sitting anywhere — the only way is by exercising. Our 
 second auxiliary stove is out of commission — as we can't 
 get any kerosene for the moment. 
 
 The news has been very depressing the last two days, 
 about Cambrai, and our plans are indirectly changed. I 
 could tell you a lot — only I must n't. Better news 
 tonight. 
 
 * Aeroplane.
 
 i62 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 [Cugny, December, 191 7] 
 We have had little sleep the last three nights. Boche 
 aeroplanes came in the small hours each night, and lingered 
 overhead. Bombs rained about us until we thought the 
 baraque would sit down on us — it shook so. The first 
 night four of us dressed and went out in boots and over- 
 coats, in spite of the terrific cold — to see what we could 
 see. It was a wonderful clear, steely-blue night, with every 
 star out. The second night — which was still colder — we 
 remained in bed, though they came and went for two hours 
 
 — and last night I managed to sleep through most of it, 
 as it was n't quite so aggressively near. They have also 
 been about in the daytime, off and on. Any raids I was in 
 
 — in London — pale by comparison as regards nearness 
 and noise. 
 
 We have had a lot of Chasseurs Alpins (the "Blue 
 Devils") in lately, quartered all about us, in sheds and 
 houses partly ruined, which our baraques are among. Our 
 walls are so thin that the men's voices, calling to each 
 other in the early morning, sound as if they were inside of 
 the baraque! Our little windows are made of a sort of oiled 
 canvas, not transparent. You can't see through them, and 
 little light comes through. On a sunny day it 's dark inside, 
 and on a dark day it's pitch-black. It is not uncommon to 
 have disturbances of various kinds during the night. Last 
 night a horse was frightened and bolted about 2 a.m.
 
 o
 
 FRANCE 163 
 
 Troops were starting for the trenches. He clattered along 
 the wooden edge of the baraque with a noise far more 
 unnerving than any guns! 
 
 The cold has been awful. 1 have n't been really warm 
 for days, except when walking — the minute one stops the 
 cold strikes in. You'd laugh if you knew the numbers of 
 layers of clothes I have been wearing! It is only now and 
 then we can get any coal, and as you know, twigs and chips 
 and tiny blocks of wood don't give great heat. 
 
 As I write, through the walls there is a steady roar of 
 poilus' voices, plus a gramophone. 1 often play the gramo- 
 phone, to relieve one of the canteeners — but of course 
 the canteen is nothing to do with us really — we are the 
 Motor Section. 
 
 [Cugny, December, 19 17] 
 
 There are constant air activities — Boches over- 
 head day and night, and bombs very near — also a steady 
 barrage from the guns, afternoons and evenings as a rule. 
 
 The General in command of the Armee came to call on 
 
 Miss Hackett the other day and thanked her for the work. 
 He asked if there was anything he could do for us — and 
 she asked for two stoves. They arrived the next morning 
 and we are much warmer. 1 can't tell you what the cold is 
 like! We have a stove now at the other end of the baraque, 
 near my cubicle, but fuel is the difficulty. We get coal and
 
 i64 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 most of our stores from a military place near by, where 
 only the army may get supplies. The things are good, but 
 certain ones are often unobtainable. If any one had told 
 me that my heart would beat with joy at the sight of kero- 
 sene and candles and matches, I would certainly not have 
 believed it! You have to experience being without such 
 things to feel the gladdening which the sight of them brings. 
 We are all extremely generous as regards lending coats, 
 boots, gloves, or any clothes, but none of us can bring our- 
 selves to give away a box of matches ! ! We are told to be 
 ready to be called out if necessary at any moment. It is 
 not easy to be " ready at any moment " when our cars are 
 stabled in open sheds in freezing weather, and we can't, 
 of course, get any anti-freezing solutions for the radiators. 
 Water left in pails freezes overnight, and the nearest pump 
 is a ten-minute walk. I could write a book on the luxuries 
 of the front ! Kerosene for lamps is scarce, and candles are 
 thirty-five centimes apiece and even more scarce. Soon we 
 shall go to bed in the dark, I expect. As our baraque is full 
 up, the Auto Chir people have sent us a tent for the ex- 
 pected overflow. A tent sounds poor comfort, but in actual 
 fact is said to be warmer than the baraque — much better 
 built, with double walls. 
 
 We are supposed to have gas-masks, but they have n't 
 come yet. This afternoon there was a sound like a gas 
 warning and it happened that several of us were wrestling
 
 FRANCE 165 
 
 with one of the new stoves. The fumes were so appalling 
 that we really couldn't toll at first whether it was a gas 
 attack or not! it is getting very exciting here now — with 
 extra trenches and barbed wire being put up between us 
 and the Boches. 
 
 Since I wrote last we have had a lot of snow, and the 
 country is looking too lovely — all white, and every twig 
 and branch encased in frosting. You can imagine how 
 picturesque the shelled remains of houses are ^ dark 
 against the snow — and the pale blue of the poilus' uni- 
 forms. One of the very impressive things on the way here 
 
 — which 1 forgot to tell you of — is a big cemetery of 
 German dead, in the forest this side of Compicgne — a 
 high paling all around it. Back there, one sees German 
 prisoners working on the roads, though not, of course, any- 
 where so far front as we are here. They all have " P.G."' in 
 huge red letters on their blouses. 
 
 Mrs. Talbot went to London to stir up more funds, 
 which we need badly. She is one of the canteen members 
 
 — such a dear — our mess president, and does us awfully 
 well. Another charming canteen worker is Mme. Fillon- 
 neau, who is Scotch, married to a (half English) French 
 colonel. 
 
 1 Prisonnier de Guerre. {Editor's Note.)
 
 i66 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 [Cugny, January, 1918] 
 Miss Lowther wrote, offering me leave — in order 
 to go to Paris and meet her. The big lung specialist found 
 to his great surprise that she is cured, and told her she may 
 drive this winter, — although she should have stayed 
 three months at Arcachon. 
 
 One of our drivers. Miss P , had a thrilling experience 
 
 the other day, while I was in Paris. I wish I had been with 
 her! She went for a walk in a snowstorm, and a Boche aero- 
 plane which had lost its way came directly over her, flying 
 so low that she could see the airman's face and arms. The 
 anti-aircraft guns were giving him a hot time. She and a 
 passing poilu got into a ditch for shelter from the shrapnel 
 — but the Boche saw them, and turned his mitrailleuse 
 on them! When the machine had passed on and it was 
 over, the poilu ran up to her, and grasped her hand to say 
 how lucky they were both to be alive — then suddenly 
 dropped her hand, exclaiming, "Mais vous etes femme!" 
 In her greatcoat and cap and boots he had thought she was 
 a man. It happened just near here, close by the sign-post, 
 "Zone dangereuse" — on the road to the village where we 
 lunched with the French officers in the house with no roof. 
 That house has been bombed again several times since 
 we lunched there — and there is less than ever of it. We 
 get all our ravitaillements from that village. 
 
 A certain number of English troops are just arriving.
 
 /
 
 FRANCE 167 
 
 taking over part of the line — there is no harm in saying 
 it, for it will be ancient history by the time it reaches you. 
 The English never allow women so near the fnmt as this, 
 and are surprised to fmd us here. The conditions are much 
 changed, khaki everywhere and very little blue left. It is 
 interesting to see the mixture in the Canteen. We have 
 had various English officers dropping in on us at all hours, 
 and we like to give them tea or coffee, etc., but it is not 
 easy when we are on none too full rations ourselves. 
 
 How amused you will be when 1 tell you that we can no 
 longer call ourselves voluntary — we are to be obliged to 
 take the pay of the French poilu. Imagine my pride in 
 earning five sous a day as a French soldier! ^'ou will be 
 glad to know that we may not be sent at first so near the 
 front as we were told. It just depends on where we are 
 most needed. 
 
 If you ask why we 've been so long in starting, the answer 
 is RED TAPE! ! All things of this kind go through more or 
 less of it, and this is a much bigger thing than was expected 
 — a whole section instead of a quarter. 
 
 We shall not know where we are going even when we 
 start. Things are going to be doing everywhere very soon — 
 all the few remaining civilians have been ordered to leave 
 Cugny and the little surrounding villages. The Boches are 
 trying their hardest before our army gets over. I can't 
 write more about it — and nothing else is of any interest!
 
 i68 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 yUlers-Cotterets (Aisne), 
 Friday, January 25, 1918 
 
 We got our marching orders by telephone at Cugny 
 on Tuesday, and came through on Wednesday — eight of 
 us, lunching at Noyon on the way. The demenagement of 
 the baraque was no hght affair. I took a photograph of the 
 cars Hned up outside, full to bursting, and the ground lit- 
 tered with stoves, tables, chairs, packing-cases, etc. 
 
 I regret to say that my poor G.M.C. became "en panne " 
 outside Soissons — otherwise we should have come through 
 all right. The whole trouble has turned out to be simply 
 water in the essence, but I was worried. It was growing later 
 and later — two officers in a car, after working over her 
 too, sent us men from a Pare (a military depot for auto- 
 mobiles), but she would not go, and finally we left her with 
 the men to be towed to their place. I came along with 
 Miss Repton and Mrs. Talbot in the Wolseley, Miss R. 
 having sent the others on hours before. The going was very 
 heavy after much rain, but luckily it was a moonlight night. 
 We came through miles of weird, desolate country, once the 
 front, and several deserted, ruined villages, without a light 
 or a sign of life. Then through the glorious forest of Villers- 
 Cotterets, arriving here soon after midnight. It is a quaint 
 little town, rather like Tours, only quainter. We had no 
 idea where the others would be, whether in billets or a 
 hotel. A soldier in the Place told us there was no hotel
 
 FRANCE 169 
 
 open, so I left the others in the car, and started out on foot 
 to find the " Direction des Automobiles" — which is where 
 we report when we arrive anywhere. It was like walking 
 through a city of the dead, not a light nor a sound any- 
 where. 1 kept thinking 1 heard steps in the distance, some 
 one coming whom 1 could ask, but realized it was the echo 
 of my own boots on the pavement! It was then i a.m. 1 
 found the hotel, and went back for the others — the woman 
 gave us some ham and bread and vin du pays, and we fell 
 into bed. The hotel was so full I had to sleep in a bathroom 
 — and oh, the irony of having had no proper bath for weeks 
 and sleeping alongside of a beautiful enamel bathtub piled 
 with chairs! 
 
 The next morning I, being a soldier in the service of the 
 French Army, was ordered to be ready at 12.30 to go with 
 the marechal des logis (more or less the equivalent of a 
 sergeant-major in the British Army) to see about m}- car. 
 We went off in a little service car and 1 drove mine back 
 with a huge fifty-litre bidon in beside me — feeding the 
 carburetor by a long rubber tube. They had found five 
 litres of water in my tank! It meant a horrid lot of work, 
 for the tank had to be demonte, to be properly cleaned. 
 This morning one of our other cars is en panne from the 
 same essence! 
 
 Coming here turns out to have been a mistake — the 
 coup de telephone which brought us here should have sent
 
 I70 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 us to Creil to join Miss Lowther and the other dozen driv- 
 ers. So back we go today. But I can't help being glad the 
 mistake was made, for we have seen some wonderfully 
 interesting country. We came for miles through the land 
 over which the battle of the Aisne was fought — rolling, 
 desolate ground, with trenches and dug-outs — the barbed- 
 wire entanglements still there, and graves scattered about. 
 In one place the road passes along what was No Man's 
 Land — it was indescribable. I found there a hand gren- 
 ade, half hidden in the ground — and have kept it. It is 
 probably not exploded, but I have tied it up in a cushion, 
 in my tool box, and am going to see if I can get it demonte 
 by some artilleryman. I should like to keep it, having 
 found it myself just there. I am told it is German, of the 
 19 1 4 model. 
 
 I have the percussion fuse of a French 75 — which we 
 found on an old dump heap among a lot of empty shells. 
 But I'm afraid it is still explosive, and that I shan't be 
 able to keep it. 
 
 Hackeit-Lowther Unit (Motor Section) 
 
 Hopital d' Evacuation, No. 16, 
 
 Creil, January 29, 19 18 
 
 Here we are, the Hackett-Lowther Unit complete 
 and at work at last! We got here in the morning, and after 
 working all the afternoon on our cars, we all went on duty
 
 FRANCE 171 
 
 the same night. From 10 p.m. until 6.30 the next morning 
 we carried wounded to ditlerent hospitals — then after 
 three hours' sleep we were called out again for another rush 
 until 4.30 that afternoon! 
 
 The night work was especially trying, as there was a 
 thick mist everywhere, and one could only see a few feet 
 in front of one's car, going over strange country roads. 1 
 was driving a strange car, too, through the night — a Wol- 
 seley. My beat was back and forth from the H.O.E. to 
 a hospital thirteen kilometres from here, through winding 
 country roads and little villages, just stopping to load up 
 and unload at the other end. They showed us the way once, 
 and after that we had to fmd it for ourselves, fog or no fog! 
 
 It is much colder today — and clear and sunny. My 
 car is running beautifully, and pulls up steep hills, with a 
 heavy load, too splendidly. 1 am very thankful, for no one 
 has ever touched her but myself, and it is a big responsi- 
 bility, the entire care of a car, when one has never had it be- 
 fore. Miss Lowther asked if 1 would like to drive the W ol- 
 seley, but 1 am fond of my G.M.C. and prefer to keep her 
 if I have the choice. 1 like. the way she is built. \\'olsele>s 
 and many of the others are touring-cars with ambulance 
 bodies put on — they have glass wind-shields, but are ter- 
 ribly cold at the side. The G.M.C. is a real truck build, 
 big and heavy, much used in the French Army. There is a 
 canvas which shelters the front seat and closes in the sides.
 
 172 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 I am writing on my lap in my car — waiting at the 
 H.O.E. to take wounded to a hospital twelve kilometres 
 from here. We are very badly lodged now, in a horrible lit- 
 tle hotel — and can get no food after being up all night. 
 But in two or three days we are to be billeted in a chateau 
 in the country near by, where some soldiers are to be 
 moved out to make room for us. There we shall be able to 
 work on our cars peacefully in the park, without crowds 
 of soldiers standing around and watching us, as they do in 
 the courtyard of the hotel. We have a lieutenant whose job 
 it is to transmit the army orders to Miss Lowther and a 
 marechal des logis, brigadier, an orderly, a cook, and two 
 mechanics. We are the only women in France who have a 
 commissioned officer at their head — all the others get 
 their orders from a mere marechal des logis! I wish you 
 could see the Unit at meals! We eat at the soldiers' mess 
 — in a tiny little room by ourselves. A long table with 
 wooden benches and horrible tin plates, forks, spoons, 
 and mugs. The food is eatable — that is all I can say — 
 but we get enough. 
 
 Creil, Eebruary 4, 1918 
 
 It is no light matter when the Hackett-Lowther Unit 
 moves ! We are evidently to be here for a few weeks any- 
 how, and yesterday we moved, bag and baggage, to the 
 chateau where we are billeted, about two kilometres away.
 
 FRAKCE 173 
 
 It is a typical French house, large and square, standing 
 among poplars — with a park behind, a lake, etc. Half of 
 it is closed but we can all get in by squeezing, four going 
 in the billiard-room. 1 am to have a small dressing-room, 
 connected with a big room where two of my friends sleep. 
 It is perfect being in the country — working on our cars 
 under the trees instead of in a paved courtyard crowded 
 with soldiers. I spent today in breeches and overalls — 
 under and inside my car. The army gives us our cook, 
 our rations, and plates, forks, spoons, etc. As the break- 
 fast consists of black coffee and dry bread — milk being 
 very scarce now — you can imagine that we try to supple- 
 ment it a little when possible! Saturday 1 had my turn 
 being on night duty — which means staying at the H.O.E. 
 all night with one's car, from 9 p.m. until 8 a.m. There 
 must be some one there, attached to the hospital, but it is 
 seldom one is called for unless there is a rush — and then 
 all the cars are called out. They have given us the use of 
 a little room, in a hut behind the station, and we have a 
 camp-bed by the stove, and roll up in a rug. My night on 
 duty was bitterly cold, and the fire smoked, and went out, 
 and my rug was damp and chilled me more than it warmed ! 
 1 walked up and down outdoors to keep warm, and fmally 
 slept a little between 6 and 7. 
 
 We had an air raid the other night — the Boches on 
 their way to Paris, and back — and great was the din!
 
 174 J^ THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Creil, February 6, 1918 
 A rush was on again today — every car called out 
 — and 1 am now on duty. The hours are rather long some- 
 times; the 2.30 to 6.30 shift was prolonged both yesterday 
 and today and I was on from 11.30 to 7. However, the 
 busier we are the better we like it. I have just been into the 
 station-yard — to the Scottish Women's Canteen — to 
 get a cup of tea ; it 's very nice to be a poilu and able to use 
 the canteen! It is free, and we are not allowed to pay — 
 the tea is n't bad. 
 
 It amuses me to see the Bureau which has been installed 
 in a part of the stables, by our lieutenant and his staff — a 
 brigadier, marechal des logis, etc. It apparently takes about 
 four men to run us! — although Miss Lowther does all the 
 organizing of our hours and the supervising of the cars. 
 We have to enter in a book at night what runs we have 
 made — how many kilometres, how many wounded, and 
 details of essence, tires, etc. 
 
 Tomorrow is to be another rush day — the orders have 
 just come — so we shall all be out early. 
 
 Creil, February 10, 19 18 
 
 We are terribly busy. Yesterday most of us were 
 up at 5.30 for a very heavy morning's work — long dis- 
 tances to go, and many to carry, and it all had to be finished 
 by noon, twelve exactly. I can carry five couches (stretcher
 
 FRANCE 175 
 
 cases) in my car, which makes her extra useful. Even big 
 cars as a rule carry only four, and Fords two. 1 can take 
 either nine assis (sitting cases) — eight inside and one in 
 front with me — or five couches — or various other com- 
 binations of both. We often have bad cases. 
 
 H.O.E.No. \6,Creil, 
 February 22, 1918 
 
 The days fly by — we are busy, on the whole, with 
 occasional very slack days and then sudden rushes. It has 
 been bitterly cold again, and you can imagine the joys of 
 coming down in the dark, at 5.30 a.m. on a rush day, your 
 car rigid with the cold, and everything like ice to touch — 
 no hot water to help start the engine, and not even a drop 
 of coffee inside you! However, once the car has been "mis 
 en marche," and one has snatched a hasty cup of coffee and 
 slice of bread in the kitchen, life looks more cheerful, and it 
 is gloriously exhilarating to see the sun rise over fields of 
 white frost as one flies along. There is no speed limit for 
 ambulances in France, as there is in England. They often 
 give us an enormous number of wounded to be collected 
 from long distances, to be at the H.O.E. at a certain hour, 
 for a certain train, and it means a rush. 1 1 's no use starting 
 too early, as they won't be ready, and only keep one wait- 
 ing, so we have to make quick time and go very fast when 
 empty.
 
 176 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Did I tell you that I drove the other day up to Compiegne 
 to take six insane cases and two attendants? Coming back 
 I had my first real "panne" — on the road twelve kilo- 
 metres from home. The G.M.C, was going like a bird 
 when suddenly she stopped — three times that happened 
 — and then she would n't go at all. It was dark and some 
 one had borrowed my electric torch and not returned it — 
 but 1 managed to discover the trouble. A screw composing 
 a very essential part of the carburetor, on which the needle 
 and float pivot, had fallen out ! — a thing 1 never heard of 
 happening to any one. I was in despair as it was so dark 
 and late, but found a nail which would go in, and bound it 
 on, wrapped in a sort of hood of chamois, wired on — and 
 we came home all right. The carburetor looked as if it was 
 bandaged up with a toothache! 
 
 Soon after 1 left there, a bomb came and ***** 
 *************** CPensor') 
 
 Miss Hackett was there with two of the canteeners 
 and one of them was thrown on her face, though not 
 hurt. 
 
 This place stands in a hollow, and is most unhealthy. 
 We have all of us been upset, with what is called "camp- 
 itis" by those who had it on the Russian front. It is a mild 
 form of dysentery — one girl has had it ten days. I got 
 it, together with a sore throat, on a 5.30 rush-morning — 
 imagine having to drive steadily in the cold until noon.
 
 FRANCE 177 
 
 But I stayed off the next day and when we had a rush call 
 at 10 P.M., for all night, 1 was n't allowed to go. 
 
 Miss Hackett and the two Hancocks are coming here 
 tomorrow for the night, and we are to give a fancy-dress 
 party — no guests to spend more than two francs on their 
 costumes! We have permission to rifle the chateau of cur- 
 tain draperies, for two francs would hardl>' buy a postage- 
 stamp these days. 
 
 Creil, March 8, 1918 
 
 We have just heard that Cugny has been bombed, 
 and our baraque is no more! Also our garage shed, which 
 was already half ruined when we were there. It is rather 
 sad, for I loved the place, and we had many good times in 
 that baraque. 
 
 1 need n't refrain any longer from telling you that when 
 I first went to Cugny, owing to the large number of men 
 who were then being sent south to fight in the land of 
 olives, there was just one man in the trenches to every 
 eighteen there should have been, between us and the 
 Boches! And if they had known — ! It's just another of 
 those wonderful cases where in spite of all their spies they 
 don't know until too late. 
 
 I have gotten very hardened to the cold — even more 
 than when in England. In our chateau we have only a
 
 178 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 moderate log fire in the dining-room on very cold days — 
 and the rest of the house is exactly like outdoors, only even 
 damper. There are broken panes of glass in the windows 
 — so we could n't keep in any heat if we had it to keep! 
 We are allowed so little kerosene now that the "flamme 
 bleue" stoves, which saved our lives at Cugny, are out of 
 the question. Many feel the cold very much, owing to the 
 damp. I must acknowledge I am rather stiff when I wake 
 up in the morning, but I think that's the hard camp-bed. 
 I was on night duty again last night. The great diversion 
 of the Hackett-Lowther Unit, when we have time, is to go 
 into the town and have a hot bath at the Bains on the river 
 Oise. It is a sort of wooden float on a sluggish yellow stream, 
 but the rooms are clean, and one gets a "fond de bain" (a 
 large sheet to line the tin bathtub), clean towels, etc. 
 
 You ask if we salute, and it 's hard to answer, for we do 
 and we don't ! What I mean is, we don't make a fuss of it, 
 as the W.V.R. in London do. We are not in the way of it, 
 for when out here we are mostly working about with no 
 caps, and you may not salute without headgear, but stand 
 at attention instead. Miss Lowther has n't made a point of 
 it, as she does n't want it said, " How absurd it is, women 
 playing at being men ! " But, of course, we ought in theory, 
 belonging as we do to the army. When Miss Lowther 
 is saluted by officers or men, she returns it, just touching 
 her cap.
 
 < 
 z 
 
 H 

 
 FRANCE 179 
 
 Our lieutenant has been all through Verdun and many 
 times wounded, and has the Croix de Guerre and other 
 decorations. The whole inside of his mouth is silver, though 
 you would never know it. He and xMiss Lowther are equal 
 in rank, and ho has nothing whatever to do with the run- 
 ning of the motor work. All the clerical part and accounts 
 are his department. Our brigadier does nothing but sec- 
 retarial work for him from morning to night. 
 
 It is becoming impossible to get cigarettes. There are 
 none in Paris, but the nearer the front, the more likely there 
 are to be some. We are entitled, as poilus, to a tobacco 
 allowance, but we have never " touche" it, as is the French 
 expression for drawing what the army gives. And just as 
 we thought we would ask for it to give to the hospitals, 
 the allowance has been withdrawn from the entire army! 
 It's hard for the poor men — they've got to buy it now. 
 It is amusing to be a poilu, but it's a bore too — for we 
 can't move without such red tape. We are in the Zone 
 des Armees, and the rules are very strict. The Germans 
 were in this town for six days last year, and there are 
 quite a few ruins about. 
 
 H.O.E. No. i6,Crcil, 
 
 March lo, 1918 
 
 I took two American soldiers to one of the French 
 hospitals the other day. They both looked very ill, and 1 felt
 
 i8o IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 sorry for them, not being among their own people. A day 
 or two later one of them ran after me in the street, and 
 said he was better — I was so glad to hear it — and that 
 the hospital was "fine." He was a nice boy, and awfully 
 afraid he would be sent home without ever being under fire 
 or in an air raid. That last wish at least has been amply 
 gratified! There was a tremendous raid here two nights 
 ago. We were just going to bed, and watched it for half an 
 hour. The searchlights were pretty, but shrapnel began to 
 patter around the house like hail and an obus whizzed 
 down, though without exploding, so near that we thought 
 better of staying out on the steps! 
 
 If I could be spared from here, I should feel I ought to 
 return to London, for Dr. Murray writes that two of our 
 junior staff are absent from the Clinic now for urgent fam- 
 ily reasons. I ought to be there, but there is no prospect 
 of my being exchanged under my six months. We are short 
 of drivers and Miss Lowther can't replace any one easily, 
 as it 's almost impossible now for English women to leave 
 England. They are all needed at home. Some weeks ago 
 1 had a depressed and very discouraged letter from one of 
 my Clinic patients — sick of life, and upset over certain 
 worries, and thinking he might as well give up his treat- 
 ment. I have just heard from him again that the worries 
 have cleared up, thanks to his improved condition, and 
 he is greatly cheered and earning very good money.
 
 FRANCE . i8i 
 
 Creil, March 17, 1918 
 I am in a hard position, for Miss Lowther urges 
 me to stay — from the point of view that we are doing 
 such real war work, and that my Chnic work can wait for 
 the future and will go on after the war. It is trying for me, 
 and 1 'm torn in two! Of course 1 must go back — / belong 
 there, and fewer people can do that work than can drive 
 cars — there's no question in my mind. But I can't leave 
 
 Miss Lowther too short-handed. We are told by X 
 
 himself, one of the big pots who arrive occasionally in a 
 staff car to see us, that we shall be sent to the front as soon 
 as there is an offensive, and that until then there is more 
 work for us here than there. We are certainly doing very 
 useful work here. 
 
 1 was sent to Paris this week with Miss Repton, who 
 went to bring back the new six-cylinder Delaunay-Belle- 
 ville which was given us. in case of puncture or anything 
 it is better to have two on a new car. We were in Paris at 
 the time of the big factory explosion, and never heard it! 
 We were in the concrete-floored garage testing the De- 
 launay engine, which was making an unholy noise, so we 
 did not know of it until a man told us — and then we 
 joined the crowd in the street and watched the huge cloud 
 of smoke slowly spreading. 
 
 Paris is really warlike at last as to food rations — no 
 butter at all and very little milk, no food sold between 2
 
 i82 r.IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 and 6 p.m., and no sugar. They serve liquid saccharine in 
 little carafes — which does very well for coffee but is hor- 
 rid in tea. All the tea-places are practically deserted, as 
 no one cares for tea comme fa! We saw signs of the last 
 raid, but I suppose I must not say where. 
 
 I am to be second driver with Miss Repton on the 
 Delaunay for a fortnight, as I am one of the few who can 
 swing her at present. Her engine has been done over, and 
 is terribly stiff, but improving every day. 
 
 I sent you a fat letter from Paris on the 13th, enclosing 
 a snapshot taken at Cugny, but I posted it in the British 
 Military P.O., forgetting that they are stricter about 
 photographs than the French. Your box has still not 
 arrived, but I heard a rumor of it through some one who 
 has been in Paris, so it will turn up some day. 
 
 Creil, March 20, 19 18 
 
 It is hard to realize we have been here eight weeks, 
 doing good and much-needed work, but monotonous ! We 
 have reason to know we are off to the front now very soon 
 — and are feeling in consequence delightfully unsettled. 
 
 Our lieutenant, M. Chatenay, has received numerous 
 compliments from the big officials at Creil on our work, 
 which they say is " tres-chic." I must say the Unit deserves 
 it — we are regularity itself in the day and night service, 
 and our cars never fail. In any emergency we are on the
 
 AT WORK
 
 FRANCE 183 
 
 spot at once, and when a certain number of cars are 
 ordered suddenly, to evacuate some hospital, we are tiiere 
 waiting long before the patients are ready. 
 
 Creil, March 24, 19 18 
 
 The offensive has begun. The news from the front is 
 not, of course, unexpected, but that makes it no less dis- 
 tressing. I suppose you have realized that all the part 
 where we were last winter is now in German hands again. 
 I am fearfully depressed this afternoon about it all. ^'ou 
 can imagine how cut to the heart 1 feel at the Huns 
 occupying that country 1 know so well. 
 
 We had our first air-raid work last night. I was the 
 night-driver on duty. The guns were just starting as 
 I left here at 9, and 1 could hear the Boche engines directly 
 overhead — it was a glorious clear moonlight night. Some 
 bombs fell very near just as 1 got to the H.O.E and the 
 noise was deafening. 1 had just stopped my engine, pre- 
 paratory to beating it for cover, when shrapnel whizzed 
 past my head and there was a tremendous crash close 
 beside. It had broken the heavy ground-glass arch of one 
 of the H.O.E. windows and the pavement was covered 
 with broken pieces. Then an ambulance call came, and 
 I tore off, taking one of the doctors along. There were 
 soldiers wounded and killed. They filled my car with the 
 worst cases, and meanwhile were sending to the chilteau
 
 i84 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 for more ambulances. By the time I had taken my first 
 load to the hospital and got back, every one of our cars 
 was there — I could n't believe my eyes, it was so quick! 
 A good many of the drivers had gone to bed and the cars' 
 radiators had to be filled — and they were on the road 
 about eight minutes after the order came! We took all the 
 wounded and the dead — and then the others went home, 
 leaving me and one other car on duty. Shortly after, more 
 bombs fell and I got the new wounded, luckily only three 
 cases — it was then about i a.m. A doctor went with me, 
 and we had to drive about from house to house and street 
 to street before we could find where the wounded were. 
 We knew what the Huns were trying for, and that another 
 bomb might land on us any minute. People were huddled 
 in their doorways, and we kept calling out, "Oil sont les 
 blesses?" And they would direct us, often without know- 
 ing themselves. 1 did n't sleep at all, all night, knowing 
 more calls might come in — walked about, and sat in my 
 car. I can tell you the things 1 saw last night made me feel 
 murderous — such suffering all for nothing. One of the 
 men had lost both eyes. Another was terribly injured in 
 the chest — they said he was dying, and when they took 
 him out I think he was dead. The hospital people were 
 splendid — very quick and gentle with them. I shall not 
 soon forget the scene there — the moonlight pouring 
 down on the courtyard of the hospital — a slow procession
 
 FRANCE 1P5 
 
 of our cars creeping in, looking gray and ghostly in the 
 moonlight — and in one corner a flood of light from the 
 operating-room, where the doctors were already hard at 
 work. 
 
 I have saved you a bit of the glass which nearly ended 
 the life of your youngest! 
 
 Creil, Monday, March 25, 19 18 
 
 This afternoon there was the funeral of the soldiers 
 killed in the air raid, and mine was one of the four cars 
 to carry the coffins. Being militar}-, it was our job to do it, 
 but I don't suppose it has ever been done by women before. 
 We took them from the hospital to the church, waited 
 there — and then on to the cemetery. It was very simple 
 and impressive. A crowd of people, of course, and soldiers 
 lined up presenting arms both at the hospital and church. 
 We stood at attention by our cars as the bodies were carried 
 in and out. We made two trips each, as there were fifteen 
 
 dead. 
 
 Good news to-night — the line has been pushed back, 
 and the German losses are tremendous. I wish 1 could tell 
 you more details of the conditions here at the H.O.E. 
 but dare not. Today from our park gates we saw long 
 trains passing — full of refugees, even the roofs covered 
 with them.
 
 i86 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Creil, Saturday, March 30, 19 18 
 
 The last week has been a nightmare of anxiety — 
 we hardly dared to hope the line would be held, but, thank 
 Heaven, it has been. 
 
 I can't write much about conditions here, but it might 
 just as well be the first months of the war instead of now. 
 It has been heartrending — no words can describe what 
 the H.O.E. has been like — the wounded lying all over the 
 floor in such quantities that no one knew where to begin. 
 We are working at high pressure, and 1 don't think we shall 
 be sent forward at present — as we are so much needed 
 here. We have had four cars steadily on duty, and the rest 
 have been out most of the time on special work. Three 
 army ambulances with men drivers have just been 
 attached to us. 
 
 I can only write a few words today, as I am trying 
 to get a little sleep. Last night I was just going to bed 
 when my car was called out, at 9.30 p.m., and I went off 
 on a long trip, getting back about 4 this morning. I had 
 some coffee and a short nap on my bed, and started off 
 again on a two-hours run. The night before I had just 
 got to bed when I was called out, and flung on some 
 clothes over my pyjamas, getting home about i. Miss 
 Lowther tries not to give us many broken nights in succes- 
 sion, but often she can't avoid it. It is more than likely
 
 
 z
 
 FRANCE 187 
 
 I '11 have to go again toni^^ht — so I am getting in a few 
 hours of sleep while I can. 
 
 The news is better today, but for the last few days we 
 have been very anxious. The roads have been full of 
 refugees, the most pathetic people. Coming back along the 
 Compi^gne road the other day I picked up a lot of them 
 and filled my car, mostly women and children, and such a 
 mass of belongings! One of the men had a sort of truck- 
 wheelbarrow affair he wanted to put in the car, too, but 
 there was n't room, and i told him I was afraid he must 
 leave it. He could n't bear to, because it belonged to the 
 " Patron," who had entrusted it to him. Finally he slowly 
 and sadly laid it under a tree, and when he came back there 
 were tears in his eyes. 1 could n't bear that, so 1 managed 
 that we could take it, and his joy knew no bounds. 
 
 One night I was just going ofT duty when I heard sobs 
 in the big salle of the H.O.E., and discovered a poor old 
 woman sitting up on a stretcher rocking back and forth, 
 crying with pain in her bandaged hands. She had a dis- 
 tracted daughter and a little grandson, and others, with 
 her. They were refugees from beyond Noyon and had been 
 travelling on foot for two days, practically without food. 
 The poor old thing had slept on damp straw and was in 
 agonies of rheumatism. We got hold of the doctor, and got 
 them food, and they were taken care of, at least for one 
 night.
 
 l88 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Creil, Easter Sunday, 
 
 March 31, 1918 
 
 An order came for a lot of cars for 3 a.m this morn- 
 ing, and I nearly had to go, but Miss Lowther managed so 
 that I did n't. I slept all night like a log and was dead to 
 the world — and am myself again this morning. 
 
 I could n't go to mass this Easter morning, as I must 
 not be out of reach in case my car is wanted suddenly. 
 There must be a number of the big cars always available 
 during these rush days. 
 
 I was dreadfully upset a day or two ago, over two in- 
 jured civilians. They arrived on a train, and were carried 
 out and put in one of our cars — the man's chest blown to 
 pieces — dying — and the woman legless, hit by an obus, 
 also dying, from shock and lack of care. Twenty minutes 
 
 later I saw the car return and the driver, Miss P , 
 
 dash out and into the H.O.E. To my horror I found that 
 those two wretched people were still in the car — they 
 had been refused at the hospital, because of being civilians. 
 I got the woman some water and she drank it — the man 
 
 was beyond speech. Meanwhile Miss P had secured 
 
 a letter from the medecin chef, and took them back to the 
 hospital. They were taken in, but it was just about too 
 late — their faces haunted me all that day. On the whole, 
 the organization is fairly good, I think, though at times bad. 
 It is very trying to take a load of dead soldiers to a hospital
 
 FRANCE 189 
 
 and be told they have nowhere to put them, the mortuary 
 being full — and after a long wait to see the bcxJies laid 
 in a dreadful little wash-house. 
 
 A lot of the people have left this town and many of the 
 shops are shut. They've had the Germans here once, and 
 their nerve is gone. Miss Hackett was just opening the 
 Canteen — ten days ago — at Montdidier — and now we 
 don't know where she will have it. 
 
 1 saw yesterday a crowd of young boys going off — a 
 precaution lest they fall into Hun hands. And even the 
 older men, over age — our concierge among them — have 
 been sent farther back. He was just called up as if for 
 service, and we did n't hear the real reason till later. None 
 of the remaining people sleep at home now — they all walk 
 some distance to spend the nights in caves. 
 
 That big gun which bombards Paris is the limit — it 
 fires almost directly over our heads, they say, but of course 
 we know nothing of it. 
 
 Two days ago I had a long talk just near here with an 
 English officer. We simultaneously spoke to ask each other 
 for news! His men were resting in a village square, and 1 
 was keen to know where they had come from and where 
 they were going. Curiously he had been at Cugn>- until 
 the retreat began a week ago, and knew all that country 
 well. (You know the British took it over just before we 
 left there.) 1 wish 1 could tell }ou all the interesting things
 
 I90 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 he told me. But he knew less than I did, for Miss Lowther 
 had motored up to the front the day before, with a doctor, 
 to rescue some important papers from falling into German 
 hands — and brought us the latest news on her return. 
 He did n't even know why they were going to Amiens, and 
 I told him why, and to hurry up! 
 
 Creil, April i, 191 8 
 
 I was sent out with four others last night at 10, to 
 unload a barge of wounded on the river, and got back 
 about 1.30 this morning. One of my men had been a pris- 
 oner in German hands all the day before and escaped. 
 And I had several wounded Boches to carry. It was all 
 done in the pitch dark by shaded lanterns — most pic- 
 turesque. 
 
 H.O.E. No. 16, Creil, 
 
 April 5, 1918 
 
 A lot of letters have come, all most welcome and 
 interesting — and I think I am a bit homesick today! I 
 am off duty for the day as I have a slight return of the 
 "campitis" — nothing at all really. I think it was only 
 because I got pretty tired with so little sleep, and this 
 place is so low and unhealthy that it is a wonder we are n't 
 all ill all the time! I am not sorry this came as an excuse 
 for a real rest. I stayed in bed all the morning, and feel
 
 FRANCE 191 
 
 much better this afternoon. Mrs. Talbot cooked me eggs 
 most deliciously — she is always so good — and 1 told her 
 once how grateful my mother would be when she knew! 
 
 I forget if 1 wrote you what a long time 1 went without a 
 decent night's sleep, during the rush. 1 was called out each 
 night just as I was thinking, "Now, 1 really shall get to 
 bed tonight!" I told you of the barge of wounded we un- 
 loaded on the river. The next night was deadly — a train 
 due at 1 1 and we waited all night until it came in at 7 the 
 next morning! 1 had only one real night in bed, in five — 
 and day work as well — and towards the end 1 got posi- 
 tively dithered. I nearly dropped off to sleep driving one 
 early morning — it's a horrid sort of dazed feeling, that 
 one may fall asleep any minute. The road seems to undu- 
 late in front of you. 1 was so dead, 1 slept through one of 
 the noisiest and nearest air raids we've had — there were 
 no casualties, so we were not called out. 
 
 You ask about nurses here — this is not a hospital with 
 beds, but a Salle de Triage, where the patients come in 
 from the front and are sorted out and sent on to different 
 hospitals, or to Paris or the interior. Here there are only 
 men "infirmiers" — to carry the stretchers, etc. — and Red 
 Cross ladies to feed them — no beds. Very few dressings 
 are done here. It is a part of the railway station, and a 
 dreary place. 
 
 There came in an order for a lot of cars for this evening,
 
 192 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 and mine, being big, was needed. So Miss G , the only 
 
 other driver who knows the G.M.C., had to take her. I 
 had gone to bed and was asleep already when there was a 
 knock, and some one came for the keys of my tool box. I 
 then fell asleep again, and in about half an hour another 
 
 knock, and poor Miss G put her head in, most awfully 
 
 sorry, but she could n't start the car — and could I come. 
 So I put on boots, and a coat over my pyjamas, and went 
 down. It is funny how cars are almost human — they seem 
 to know their own drivers and she started like a lamb for 
 me! She is considered very hard to start, but I know 
 her so well now, and all her ways, that even when it's 
 very cold I have little trouble. She is going too beauti- 
 fully now. 
 
 We have an orderly who is a delightful character. He 
 comes from Marseilles — and talks a French that it took 
 some time to understand — and his name is Mi! His job 
 is to give out our essence, oil, and grease, etc., and to fill 
 the radiators with water. He has learned to crank some of 
 the easy cars, and puffs with pride when they start. He 
 sleeps at a farm near by, and whenever there is a raid he 
 arrives at once, panting, no matter what hour of the night, 
 to fill the radiators in case we are called out. 
 
 A few days ago we were sent for to go to the Bureau one 
 by one, to receive and sign for our pay. For two months' 
 service in the French army we received the princely sum 
 
 i
 
 FRANCE 103 
 
 of 8 fr. 75 c. each! Rather fun, is n't it? Miss Lowthcr's 
 pay, as id lieutenant, is 3 francs 50 a day! 
 
 Creil, April 18, 1918 
 Just a short line, as I shall be on duty in a few 
 
 minutes. 1 slept late this morning and Mrs. T like an 
 
 angel brought me breakfast, for 1 was really rather tired. 
 I was on steadily for twenty-four hours up to last evening 
 — on all day yesterday and all the night before — and 
 before that 1 had been on practically all day for two or 
 three days running. We are constantly unloading trains 
 and barges on the river which come in at short notice. 
 Several of our big cars are out of order, and three of the 
 Fords too, so that all of the work just now falls on a few. 
 
 Creil, April 20, 19 18 
 (On duty.) 1 can't write properly on the front of 
 my car, it is so cold, and we have nowhere to sit under 
 cover. My hand gets stiff. The ground was white with 
 frost this morning. I have just heard that there will be 
 another peniche (barge) to unload on the river this after- 
 noon, which means that 1 '11 be on all day, having come on 
 at 8 A.M. I have had two such bad cases — one a man with 
 an amputated arm, who screamed at every movement of 
 the car, though I crawled — most nerve-racking, as the 
 road was very bad. And a dying man — the doctors told
 
 194 I^ THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 me he had a bullet in his head, and could n't live more than 
 a few hours anyhow, and they put him in my car because 
 she has the smoothest springs. It is a dreadful feeling, that 
 a man may be dying in your car at any minute. 
 
 I have just been seeing eighteen stalwart British Tom- 
 mies into the train for Paris — and my hand aches from 
 their good-bye shakes! They were gassed at Noyon three 
 weeks ago and got away from the hospital in pyjamas and 
 blankets when the Germans came in. They have been sent 
 on here from a Vichy hospital, all very seedy, and Miss 
 
 S , who was on night duty, collected them and passed 
 
 them over to us when we came on this morning at 8, to 
 prevent their being sent to French hospitals! I put them 
 in the back of my car till we caught the R.T.O. just as he 
 was off to Paris, and got it arranged that they should go 
 to an English hospital there — and they have taken their 
 train greatly cheered. I gave them money to get some 
 food, etc. 
 
 The pulse of Creil centres in this station-yard. It is 
 interesting to watch the military and civil life as we sit in 
 our cars — troops of all kinds coming and going — the 
 French in their blue, Africans with their red fezes, British 
 and Americans in khaki, huge camions, staff cars tearing 
 in, farm carts coming and going — and every evening the 
 women crowding around a milk cart with their jugs. 
 
 There is a little fox terrier called Fifi, who is a friend of
 
 FRANCE 195 
 
 ours. She should be black and white, but was so utterly 
 filthy she appeared black all over — and one could only 
 love her and feed her at a distance. One day she appeared 
 spotlessly white, and we only knew her by her lovely brown 
 eyes. The Americans in the Transport department, who 
 have an office here, had taken pity on her, and an officer 
 has ordered one of the sergeants whenever he takes a bath 
 to bathe Fifi, as well! 
 
 My car has a tendency to kick — and yesterday to my 
 horror she nearly broke the arm of my new second driver, 
 
 Mrs. H , wife of General H , who has just come 
 
 out from England. It was her first day, and I was showing 
 her about the car. It wasn't anybody's fault — 1 had 
 talked of nothing but the kicking, and how careful one 
 must be — and the spark was well retarded. Her arm is n't 
 broken but I was afraid at first it was, or even worse, the 
 ligaments torn — she could n't move it for half an hour. 
 
 When I went home the other day I found four or five 
 sausages ^ browsing in the park, looking like huge ele- 
 phants. They live there now, and it is very interesting to 
 see them go up every night. 
 
 There was a persistent rumor in Compi^gne, which kept 
 reaching us, that Miss Hackett and two of the canteeners 
 (who are now near Montdidier) had been taken prisoners 
 by the Boches. We were feeling very anxious until we 
 
 ' Observation balloons.
 
 196 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 learned it was not true. They had a fairly narrow escape 
 
 — and some of their belongings fell into Hun hands. 
 
 Creil, May 6, 191 8 
 
 I told you of the arrival of the sausages — they are 
 all about here now, in a circle, and we have n't had an air 
 raid since, though frequent " alertes." Whenever there is 
 an alerte at night, no lights are allowed on any cars — not 
 even tiny oil lamps — and it is terribly trying (not to say 
 dangerous ! ) driving in absolute blackness. We can't see 
 the road, nor other cars or camions, coming or going. 
 
 I have been awfully busy — steadily — and feel as if I 
 had forgotten how to hold a pen ! Was on night duty again 
 last night, with only four hours' sleep on a stretcher, as 
 there was plenty of work to do. As soon as I got home this 
 morning and had had breakfast, I was sent off again for 
 a run of about fifty kilometres. I ought to have got back 
 at noon, with my ten wounded, but had two punctures. I 
 had with me the papers for my ten, and also for about 
 forty other wounded as well (without which none of them 
 could take the train sanitaire to which we were carrying 
 them), so I got the officer at the Pare to telephone the 
 H.O.E. for two cars to come for men and papers. It was 
 lucky I did, for I did n't get back until 4 — decidedly 
 hungry and tired ! I had to get a new tire and inner tube 
 
 — and when I started to help the mechanic, he said that
 
 FRANCE 197 
 
 Mademoiselle must not "salir ses mains." I showed him 
 my hands — black from wrestling with punctures already, 
 and answered, "C'est la guerre." 
 
 1 have n't yet had the "day off" which was promised me 
 four days ago. Every day it is "tomorrow." And tonight 
 I felt it must be tomorrow, 1 was so tired. But an order 
 has just come for a lot of cars at 6.30 a.m. — and I must 
 go. You know how 1 hate getting up early, and when one 
 has had a short allowance of sleep for nights, it's simply 
 unspeakable! My car, as I think 1 wrote, has been kicking 
 
 badly. My second driver, Mrs. H , was with her arm 
 
 in a sling for ten days. Another of our very hefty drivers 
 who can swing anything, got a bad wrist from her, but 1 who 
 know her so well got off with a few nasty jars. It is getting 
 beyond a joke, however, and Miss Lowther said the engine 
 must come down and be decarbonized, as it's not possible 
 here to get it done with oxygen. 
 
 Creil, May 8, 191 8 
 
 The news is so much better, thank God. The Ger- 
 mans are held, and today even pushed a little. We are 
 supposed to be going to the front very soon now, but it will 
 be a quiet sector and there will probably be far less work 
 than we are getting here. I may have to leave before we 
 move, for I must get back to London — the Clinic only 
 lent me to the Hackett-Lowther Unit, after all!
 
 198 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 Very trying muggy weather lately — and much rain. 
 And yesterday when we came down early for breakfast 
 before starting off, we found the kitchen floor under 
 water, and the cook sitting with her skirts tucked up and a 
 face of resignation, her feet on a block of wood! It was 
 really a funny picture. This is a flat, unhealthy place, and 
 the river level appears to be higher than the basement. 
 Have I told you how good our food is? The nearer the 
 front you are, the more you can get — and we have all 
 sorts of little extras not to be had in Paris now. Beef is 
 the only meat allowed us by the army, but Mrs. Talbot is 
 a wonderful manager and we don't realize that we have 
 been more than three months now on nothing but beef — 
 she has taught the cook so many delicious ways of varying 
 it. Our cook is at present a local woman given us by the 
 army — at the front we are to have a man. 
 
 Such a horrid time I have had — I put my back out 
 yesterday and was in bed the rest of the day. I got up 
 early, as five of us had to evacuate a hospital before lo a.m. 
 On the way I stopped to crank one of our cars which had 
 stalled on a hill — and though I felt nothing at the time, 
 an hour later I could hardly stand. When I got home Mrs. 
 Talbot sent me to bed, and they found my temperature and 
 pulse quite high. I was in a misery, feeling so awful ! Miss 
 Lowther wanted to send for a very big surgeon she knows, 
 who is now at Compiegne, but I felt sure that I had prob-
 
 FRANCE 199 
 
 ably only slipped a vertebra — so was n't worried. Of course 
 I feel wobbly today, and 1 shall have to be careful for a bit. 
 
 May 12, 1918 
 
 We are off at last — three cheers! Our orders have 
 come, and we are leaving here on Wednesday the 1 5th, and 
 going to the front within a few days. We have to go first 
 to the Headquarters of the special army we are to be at- 
 tached to, and change our personnel — get new mechanics, 
 two new men cooks, new non-commissioned officers, and 
 so on. Our lieutenant, of course, stays with us. 
 
 You can imagine our excitement and joy. Some of the 
 drivers had given up hope, and were grizzling, and saying 
 we should never go — but I felt sure we should. 
 
 After this 1 shan't be able to say where 1 am. I am not 
 sure how much work 1 '11 be able to do, on account of my 
 back. Am hardly able to drive as yet, and am worried as 
 to how soon I shall be. A specialist, very clever, happens 
 to be here, and our lieutenant brought him to see me. Un- 
 der no circumstances may I crank for a while, nor lift any 
 weight. Lucky thing my car is all right to swing now! 
 Before she was taken down and decarbonized nobody could 
 start her except the men mechanics and me. That was why 
 I got no rest ever, because no one else could take her out. 
 
 We have up to now been attached to the French army 
 — now we are attached to an army, and it 's that which
 
 200 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 makes all the difference and gets us to the front — for we 
 go wherever that army goes — front when it goes into 
 the trenches, and "en repos" with it when it comes out. 
 1 long to tell you which Armee we are to be attached to, for 
 it has just made an everlasting name for itself — but I may 
 not — and in America you would n't know it by its name, 
 or number rather. 
 
 Foch is a wonder. One seldom hears of P now. The 
 
 French believe in retiring a man when he is tired (P and 
 
 J were just "fatigues") — and it is so sensible, and 
 
 not in the least a disgrace. The English don't do it — and 
 
 should. Their General G was tired and what was the 
 
 result — ! The English have done such magnificent work 
 in this last offensive. I wish I could write all I hear. 
 
 Somewhere ^ — at the Front 
 May i6, 1918 
 
 Here we are — at the very front — and I wish I 
 might say where. We left our chateau yesterday, an im- 
 posing convoy of pale-gray ambulances with big red crosses 
 — and got here in the afternoon. The H.O.E. was terribly 
 sorry to lose us — all the big-wigs of the place came out in 
 relays of staff cars to say good-bye, and there was much 
 bowing and scraping and handshaking, and flashing of 
 gold braid in the sun. The owner of the chateau and his 
 1 Compiegne. (Editor's Note.)
 
 FRANCE 201 
 
 wife were there, and she presented us each with a lovely 
 little boutonniere of lilies of the valley. The Dames de la 
 Croix Rouge, in whose room at the Triage we had sat or 
 slept when on night duty, sent a huge basket of flowers. 
 
 We were hurried and hot and weary, from packing our 
 luggage into the cars, and got no lunch, just some dry bread 
 and chocolate, and a little wine from an inn. So we were 
 starving for supper. When we arrived we had to wait in 
 the hot sun for about two hours, lined up along a blazing 
 pave road — while the lieutenant and Miss Lowther went 
 ahead in the staff car to fmd billets. We are in a big house 
 which has a garden with two entrances — necessary on 
 account of the cars, for we don't like to leave them out in 
 a road if it can be avoided. There was quite a choice of 
 houses, as everything is empty. This one is comfortable 
 and the garden is nice, though small after our park. There 
 is an abri (dug-out) under the lawn, with sandbags at each 
 entrance — and every inch of remaining space is filled up 
 by our cars. 
 
 We rejoiced at the sight of a hose for the cars, after three 
 months with a rickety pump, and that there was running 
 water in the house — but in the middle of our self-congrat- 
 ulations, and before we had had time to even wash our 
 hands, a near-by shell broke the water main, and lo, not a 
 drop more water was to be had ! We hear, however, that 
 tomorrow it will be mended, and then there will be a
 
 202 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 stampede for the bathroom. There actually is a bath! The 
 owners evacuated at short notice a month or so ago, taking 
 everything — and since then soldiers have been here. I 
 wish you could see the dirt — the floors were so black that 
 no words can describe it. I have swept my floor at least 
 four times — and get out almost as much dirt now as the 
 first time. The whizz and jar of a big shell woke me this 
 morning about 8.30, and I found I was missing a strenu- 
 ous bombardment. At the fifth sweeping this morning I 
 found a piece of shrapnel in the corner of my room, which 
 certainly was not there last evening — and i am wonder- 
 ing if it came in through the window during the night! I 
 can't say it did n't, as I slept soundly through much. 
 
 Our supper was very sketchy last evening, as the stove 
 smoked — and at breakfast this morning I was longing for 
 a second bowl of cofi'ee, and we could only have one apiece. 
 Milk is very scarce and many things are not to be had at 
 all. In fact, the saying that the nearer you are to the front, 
 the more you can get, seems not to hold good here. It 
 probably applies to the halfway places like Creil. 
 
 Somewhere * 
 
 May 19, 1918 
 
 We get frequent shelling here — and last night 
 several houses were demolished close by. There is a bed 
 
 ^ Compiegne. (Editor's Note.)
 
 FRANCE 203 
 
 from one house, hanging on a gate-post, flung out by the 
 explosion, and the bedding is still on a laburnum bush! 
 
 It has been terribly hot today. Miss Lowther made a 
 little speech at supper last night — to tell us what our new 
 work is to be. There are three degrees of front work, and 
 we were afraid that being women, we should only get the 
 third kind (which is from here back) — instead of which 
 we are to have the first two degrees. You can imagine how 
 glad 1 am that all this has come before I have to leave. It 
 is very thrilling and a tremendous compliment — for they 
 are giving it to us at once because the reports of the work 
 of the Unit were so excellent. Miss Lowther told us that 
 it was entirely owing to ourselves that we had got what 
 we wanted — and thanked us for our good work. We have 
 numerous new rules to adapt ourselves to. One, you will 
 be amused to hear, is that we must salute all officers of the 
 army, and are to be drilled how to do it properly! The 
 order came yesterday. On the street it is all right to avoid 
 seeing them as much as possible, but if we meet their eyes 
 we must salute, and the higher their rank, the less can we 
 avoid seeing them! We are not allowed to go on duty 
 (which will be twenty-four hours on and twenty-four hours 
 off) without our tin hats. We are to have gas-mask drill 
 until we can put them on in I forget just how few seconds. 
 
 Last night at supper a soldier appeared suddenly at the 
 window of the front hall where we have our meals — and
 
 204 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 handed in an official-looking letter through the broken pane 
 of glass. It was for the lieutenant, and we were all sur- 
 prised when he showed great amusement on reading it. 
 What do you suppose it was — an order from Headquar- 
 ters to leave off winter flannels! "Les tricots et calefons 
 de flanellette" to be "retires" by the 25th of May — and 
 these effects to be sent in camionettes to a certain depot 
 on that date. You can imagine how we laughed. 
 
 May 24, 1918 
 
 The work here is nothing much as yet — this front 
 is very quiet just now — and we are to be started in grad- 
 ually, going forward, but not yet up to the Postes de 
 Secours. At present we are en repos, not working at all. 
 
 The postes de secours are close behind the trenches — 
 they are just dug-outs underground where the wounded 
 have their first dressing, and are kept till dark. 
 
 We have heard all details of the terrific raid at Creil, 
 on the night of the very day we left. They say that the 
 Boche observer overhead did not see we were gone. Four 
 bombs fell just around our chateau and one landed right 
 on the concierge's house, knocking the roof completely in, 
 and cracking the plaster on the chateau walls. One of our 
 former mechanics was wounded, and we were truly sorry 
 to hear that the little sergeant at the H.O.E., who had 
 charge of loading the wounded into our cars, was killed.
 
 FRANCE 205 
 
 He was standing, sheltered, in the doorway from which 
 we have watched many a raid. It is a great loss — I have 
 never known any one so kind and fatherly to the wounded. 
 
 The heat has been frightful for three days — but the 
 air here is far better than at Creil, where we were so low. 
 We have had numerous exciting raids. The invaders often 
 get turned back from Paris over our very heads, while we 
 sit shivering in a cold cellar. We hate going down, and 
 some refused, until Miss Lowther read the riot act, and 
 said it was a military order and we had no choice. We got 
 bombs very near last night. We have camouflaged the cars 
 under the trees with considerable difficulty, as the garden 
 is small. 1 would much rather be the thing the Boches are 
 trying for than be just near it. They are afraid to fly low 
 enough, and generally just miss what they are aiming at! 
 
 Our gas-mask drill was rather trying in the heat — but 
 we were so proficient in putting them on quickly that we 
 had to have only one drill. The new kind are supposed to 
 be much better than any other — and have long snouts. 
 1 would give anything for a photograph of us lined up, like 
 a row of hogs with human bodies! 
 
 I wish I could tell you about a thrilling trip right up to 
 the very front lines in a staff car, to a "premiere poste de 
 secours" in one of the most interesting parts of the line. 
 You can't imagine what it is to pass right through big 
 French guns — and never get so much as a glimpse of
 
 2o6 IN THE SOLDIER'S SERVICE 
 
 one, they are so well hidden. There are a lot of old Ger- 
 man trenches and wire entanglement all about — it is 
 country that was fought on steadily for over two years 
 — shell holes everywhere, and a stretch of open road 
 which is forbidden for cars by daylight, as it is in sight of 
 the Germans. They were across a little valley, hidden 
 in woods. Everything is quiet just now, and we were 
 not fired on. Very few women have yet been so close to 
 that part of the lines, and the soldiers stared at me open- 
 mouthed. 
 
 I am not yet allowed to swing a car, which is a desperate 
 bore. I have been waiting, and hoping my wretched back 
 would improve. But it has n't — I can't do any walking 
 to speak of — and could n't manage even being orderly 
 for the day — so I have had to resign — given in my de- 
 mission — and am leaving tomorrow, at the end of my 
 six months. It is awfully hard to go, for in a few days 
 now they are starting the poste de secours work — and I 
 haie to leave before the coming offensive. 
 
 Two of the others are also resigning from the Unit, as 
 their time is up too. 
 
 Paris, Sunday, May 26 
 
 Bread tickets are given out in Paris stations to all 
 soldiers and people in uniform arriving on leave — little 
 strips of paper with "Militaires en permission— 100
 
 FRANCE 207 
 
 grammes du pain" printed on them. They asked how long 
 
 — and gave me strips for three days. 
 
 I talked with two engineers, who told me how Bertha 
 was destroyed — how she had to show her thirty-metre 
 nose when she fired — and how the airmen told the artil- 
 lery by wireless just when to fire — and they got her. All 
 three they got — so no more shells on Paris. 1 have to go 
 tomorrow to be demilitarized. 1 shall receive my military 
 ticket to Havre — and after that am just a mere civilian 
 again! 
 
 it was quite a wrench to leave the Hackett-Lowther 
 Unit. Driving my car for the last time wrung my heart. 
 Miss Lowther would like me to come back my next holi- 
 day — a year from this summer. 
 
 The new big offensive is beginning — and 1 seem to have 
 a vision ^ of the Unit advancing to good work and Glory 
 
 — without me I 
 
 Much love — 
 
 Mary. 
 
 * This prophecy was fulfilled some weeks later, Miss Lowther and 
 her Unit being decorated with the Croix de Guerre, by Colonel Meyer 
 of the Service de Sant6. The ambulances were lined up in a semi- 
 circle behind their drivers, at a chateau not far from Compi^gne, and 
 an aeroplane described evolutions overhead as the ceremony was car- 
 ried out in the presence of oflBcers of the French army and stretcher- 
 bearers. {Editor's Note.)
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 London, May 30, 19 18 
 Dearest Mother: — 
 
 Here I am — back again. I took the 7.30 a.m. train 
 
 from Paris on Tuesday, and joined two of our ex-drivers 
 
 at Havre. One of them has been ill — she strained her 
 
 heart very badly, and has been at the American Hospital 
 
 at Neuilly. We went out to Harfleur in the afternoon, 
 
 and had tea with Captain X , a sporting friend of 
 
 theirs who is in command of the Remount Camp there. 
 
 He and another officer showed us all the horses, and we 
 
 saw some having a sulphur dip — it was most interesting. 
 
 We had a wonderfully good tea outdoors by the quaint 
 
 old farmhouse of stone, where they are billeted. All their 
 
 cooking is done by the much-talked-of and unjustly 
 
 maligned Waacs. 
 
 The London specialist found my vertebra still out, half 
 an inch or so. He put it back and I am all right now — 
 but he says I must take a rest this summer. So I can't go 
 back to France. 
 
 Another new Bertha started firing again while I was in 
 Paris. Shells landed fairly near where I was — but by 
 the time they've travelled so far they are well spent, and 
 seem nothing in comparison to the shelling at the front.
 
 EPILOGUE 209 
 
 When I reached London I went almost directly to the 
 Clinic. Things move slowly, but No. 33 is to be opened 
 in July, or early August, for shell-shock. Our friend in the 
 
 Ministry, Mr. B , went out of office, and that has 
 
 caused delays. 1 hope there won't be all these difficulties 
 for war-shock in America when I go home to work — after 
 1 finish the course here and get my certificate. 
 
 1 was just in time for the Seminar that evening, where 
 one of the analysts read a report on the case of my for- 
 mer patient who could not walk. There were four doctor 
 guests. No. 33 is nearly ready — doors are being opened 
 through into No. 34. We hope that before very long we 
 may be occupying the whole block of houses. 1 found the 
 Common Room buzzing with new young students, and 
 am keen to start work again. 
 
 When they have gotten it all well under way in Lon- 
 don, and 1 've had more experience, 1 should love to go and 
 work under our doctors "out there" — for my own 
 American boys as well. That would be a realization of 
 what 1 am beginning to dream of — war-shock work in 
 France! 
 
 Best love — 
 
 Mary. 
 
 THE END
 
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