Part 4

Last evening I had a beautiful walk with doctor Veeder. The sunset was glorious, and we walked along roads that looked like Corot pictures. After quite a long time we came out from our woodsy road to an open space which seemed to extend away for a mile or so without any grass or any trees on it. It was getting dark and we could not distinguish things clearly, but Dr. Veeder said he thought this was the place where the daily practice in trench warfare went on. We walked a bit over the very rough field and heard voices, though we could not see any one. Pretty soon an officer appeared from nowhere, and when we asked him if we could look around, he said “Certainly,” and he himself conducted us. The field had been made into a regular practice battle field. It was criss-crossed with trenches and craters. But the worst was the dummy men placed all over everywhere. These dummy men the men have to learn to bayonet as they rush by, so as to learn how to use their bayonets even in the narrow trenches. Our officer and another who joined us explained things to us and told us it was a relief to have some one new, to talk to, as they have to stay out there in the trenches with their men from 10 P.M. to 9 A.M. when they are relieved by another batch. It was most wonderfully interesting; but impresses the horror of warfare on me even more than it has been impressed before. The trenches were most wonderfully and elaborately made and have dugouts and lines of communication and bayous and many other technical things which I could not grasp fully at the first hearing.

Another incident that happened to one of my nurses this past week made more very vivid impressions. I say “incident” because that is all it was in the life of the camp, but the young woman said it was the most interesting day she ever spent. She, Miss Cuppaidge, had been detailed to go with a doctor, an anæsthetist, and an orderly to a “Casualty Clearing Station.” When called for, small groups like this are sent up from the base hospital whenever there is a big drive. I received an order that Miss Cuppaidge was to go for her “gas training” at a certain time. The group is just got ready and kept at their regular jobs until an order comes for them to proceed to the “C. C. S.” At the appointed time for the training Miss Cuppaidge went to the “gas school” in the neighboring training camp. There she and four others, nurses from other hospitals, were taken in charge by an officer. They first had minute instructions about properly adjusting their gas masks. These are rather complicated, as they are regular respirators. A piece through which they breathe has to be held in the mouth, and a pair of padded clamps shut off the nose. This is inside the mask which fits around the face and is held on by straps around the head. They must learn to put on the things and fix the clamps and mouth pieces in six seconds. They then have to learn how to breathe just through the mouth without choking or what is worse, Miss Cuppaidge said, without dribbling. They also have to get used to the queer sensation in the ears when they swallow. When the masks are all right and everybody is breathing all right, they are put into a gas-filled room. This gas is just a tear gas. They are left there five minutes, then taken out and they are asked about irritated eyes. If there is irritation the masks are leaking or improperly adjusted. They are then taken into trenches where other gases are liberated to get them used to the odors, so that they can detect the presence of gas quickly. Some gases are so deadly three breaths of it will cause death, hence the hurry in quick detection and quick adjustment of masks. Some of these gases travel six and seven miles. As near as I could make out the gases are mainly of two sorts, a chlorine gas and a “phosgene” one. The officer lectured to the nurses upon the effects of these gases and about the treatment of them and in the middle of the afternoon sent them home smelling like the dickens, but, as Miss C. said, entirely unafraid of gas and quite prepared to guard against it if they meet it. Their gas outfits they have hitched to them all the time when near the place they are likely to meet it. We shall have other small groups go up to the C. C. S. after this one is called out and I mean to be detailed to go with one. These parties stay sometimes only a few days and sometimes a few weeks, but I certainly mean to go if I can persuade the authorities to let me leave Miss Taylor in charge. I have so little contact with the patients and so little of anything but office work and receiving officials and company of all sorts I believe that they would think I ought to have a little of the real war work.

The hospital end of my work is going very smoothly, because I have excellent supervisors, and the head nurses are all doing very well. For those who are interested I will mention that Miss Stebbins is the Day Surgical Supervisor, Mrs. Hausmann the Night Med. Sup., Miss Habenicht is the Day Med. Sup., and Miss Claiborne the Night Surg. Sup. The place is so big and there are so many lines of tents to be covered we have a supervisor for the medical side and a separate one for the surgical side both night and day. Some of you people at home would be amused to see our night supervisors on a rainy night. In rubber hats, coats, and rubber boots and carrying a lantern they go ducking about in and out of tents, having a beautiful time, they say, splashing about and tripping over tent ropes. Any way we all seem to be thriving under these new conditions. We all are getting very brown. All have enormous appetites and can eat with relish the tinned bully beef that we get four or five times a week and the hard dark war bread. Never again will I talk about wrapped bread. Here, as somebody said the other day, loaves of bread are used to spike the cart wheels. But we eat it just the same in huge slices.

Our food question is a problem. It does not need to be as poor as it is, and I mean to see pretty soon that it is improved. The trouble really is with the help. My domestic problems are driving me crazy, but this last week I appealed for help and Captain Veeder has been asked to assist me to clean our places and work out some kind of scheme. Our kitchen is one of the old stalls, quite open at the end as stalls are. Other stalls are used for storage, and oh the dirt. I had not been assigned enough help at first and anyway there had been such a muddle of V. A. D.’s working in the Mess, some old good-for-nothing soldiers, hangers-on, and a few Belgian girls who help take care of the nurses’ room and do odd jobs, I could not possibly see what I was going to do with the place for some time. To add to my difficulties the V. A. D.’s draw a certain ration from the British quartermaster and pay into the Mess a certain amount of money, and the American nurses’ ration was to be quite different, and the whole arrangement quite different. There are 40 V. A. D.’s and 64 nurses. Consider the problem. I got some fairly decent French women to come and clean and help cook. The American man cook could not talk to them and had a fit, for whenever his back was turned, they did things he did not mean to have done. I got the place cleaned only by getting extra fatigue men up with shovels and brooms. We are to be whitewashed to-morrow. An extra American has been put on to keep the other man company and give him somebody to talk to! The French women are to keep on cleaning and are to do the dishes that the British soldiers have been swishing around in tubs of cold water. The V. A. D.’s are gradually being put in the wards, where they won’t have a chance to have tea so many times a day. Everybody can have it five times a day if desired!

While waiting to hear from Washington about increased rations on account of the greatly increased cost of food over here we are taxing everybody a franc a day for extra green things for the Mess. The U. S. A. allows 40 cents a day per nurse for messing. The usual custom is to draw not as many rations as there are persons to provide for, then to draw the difference in money and buy extra things with the money. But over here that scheme at 40 cents a day cannot work, food is too high. So a cable has been sent to Washington. The doctors are not having this trouble because they always expect to buy most of their food out of their salaries. They draw their regular rations and buy lots of stuff, then divide the cost among the whole group. They have a much smaller group to take care of and are not complicated as I am by the servant or V. A. D. problem. They have American men looking after them. Oh well, I can begin to see light ahead now, and although no one likes the food, as it is they are not starving. A slice of ham all dried up to nothing and dark army bread and tea and possibly a little marmalade does not make a very good breakfast for Americans, but it will keep one going if enough bread and butter is eaten. We are now getting coffee, such as it is, and I mean to see about cereal very soon. Eggs have been seven cents apiece, not centimes but cents. I am not letting my perfectly good dietitian put her energies on this domestic problem of ours, for I am keeping her for the poor sick soldiers, and in a few days or weeks I mean to have a regular diet kitchen started for her. My “Home Sister” is finding the complication of four kinds of help and several languages almost too much for her, but between us all we shall plow through this mire, and now that Dr. Veeder has turned his attention upon our difficulties I am sure we shall get through them all right. You ought to hear me engage servants in French. They understand and come. When they see some of the difficulties of lack of hot water, etc., they go, and I have to begin all over again. It is a great life.

One of the greatest things about it is meeting so many different kinds of people. Two such nice Australian Sisters were here to call upon me this afternoon. And the New Zealanders are so very polite and nice, and these little V. A. D.’s are charming. Anyway I am glad I am here, only I wish you were all here too. Then things would be ideal. You’d all love this beautiful country, and this quaint old city that is nearly swamped under this enormous influx of strange foreign people. The paper to-day says (we get a little single-leaf edition of the _London Daily Mail_) that our troops have landed in France. I hope thousands more come along soon, so that all this beastly business can be stopped soon. People are counting on the coming of our troops so much. Everybody says France needs help badly. Surely our forces can bring an end to all this frightfulness. No mail yet. None at all except those written for my birthday. Oh well, that is war. Loads and loads of love to you all.

Sunday, July 8, 1917.

Rouen, France.

Such a nice lot of letters as we got to-day. There is very little difference between Sundays and other days here, except perhaps a little more business than usual is done on Sundays, but mail comes and goes these days just like other days. Ever since we came only one or two letters for nurses have been dribbling along through until to-day when some people got as many as 12 or 14 letters, and great was the rejoicing thereat.

Dr. Veeder can do no medical work at all just now, Phil will be interested to know, or in fact doctoring of any kind. At the present time he is spending his entire time quartermastering. He is entirely responsible for the officers’ mess and does all the buying and planning, arranging about cooks, cleaning up, etc., and he is doing it well too, and with a mighty good grace. He has been helping us up at the “Sisters’ Mess” with our problems and has been pursuing coal to its lair, and getting whitewash from nowhere, and doing all sorts of miracles that only a very persistent and determined man can do. The result is that all the doctors and nurses are able to do their work in a much better way than if a less efficient person were back of their food and comfort. But Dr. Veeder’s spirit in doing his particular job and doing it well, even though it is so absolutely different from what he was trained for, and what he would prefer, is the spirit which is found throughout the whole organization. It does one’s heart good to see the way men who are Ph.D.’s can do regular orderly work, and put a lot into it, and get a lot out of it, and the way accountants can be stretcher bearers, and other highly trained men do the rough work in laboratory and mess hall.

There is a remarkable spirit of service and glad service everywhere. Of course there have been a few grumblers who have complained that they did not come ’way out here to do this or that, but most of the men have been converted by coming into contact with the attitude of men like Dr. Murphy. All that has been necessary is a few words from him to make them pretty much ashamed. And words haven’t been necessary often. For when they realize that Dr. Murphy has not performed a single operation since he has been here, but has been putting all his ability in organizing and administering, and being up nights and days, seeing convoys out and convoys in, seeing that they are all properly ticketed and all their forms are properly made out, finding out why sufficient oil has not been left for the lanterns of the night orderlies, why only 6 eggs were delivered to one of the tents when 12 were ordered, letting the nurses know who the right person is to give the up-patients permission who wish to leave the compound to attend the Catholic Church across the road, going personally to buy a better oil stove for the night-nurses’ supper hut, finding out why the ward-master did not notify a particular nurse long enough before a convoy was to go out so that her patient could be ready, etc., etc.--when they realize all these things and a thousand more that he is doing all the time that he did not come out to do, they pretty generally shut up and put all their energies on the job that has been given them.

Last night the Director saw a convoy come in just about midnight. It was a pretty big bunch of men and it took some time. One was in such a condition that he had to go to the operating room about 3. Dr. Clopton operated. At 4.45 a convoy was sent out to catch a particular ambulance train, and Dr. M. was down at The Point, as our receiving tent is called, to see them off. At 7.30 he was at the service in our little chapel, all the morning he was down in the tents conferring with the other doctors and making plans to get the things they needed in their work. At 2 he brought a Red Cross official to talk over some things in their work with me, and I know that at 4.30 he had an appointment with a neighboring Colonel. When he sleeps I know not. In the intervals of doings like these he comes to ask me if I will make out a list of magazines I would like for the nurses, or he sends roses and vases to put them in! We are lucky to have such a man at the head of an expedition like this. His kindness and genuine goodness reach down to the most ordinary private. Late yesterday afternoon he was batting ball with a bunch of enlisted men. They of course are crazy about him, as are all the people who work with him. There is never a matter too trivial for his attention or too vital and too important for discussion with him.

This letter was not meant for a eulogy, though it seems to have turned into one. But my attention has turned to our unusual good fortune in having such a leader, by the fact that other Chief Nurses do not always get the kind of help and coöperation that I am getting. What would I do if I had forbidden my nurses to do something which I felt was wrong or inadvisable and then the director of the Unit reversed the action? It is an unbearable situation to conceive, but I am afraid some Chief Nurses may have to face just such difficulties. But here such a situation could not possibly exist. Other Units have sneered a little at what they call our religious attitude, having nightly services on the boat, regular attendance at services here, and making the whole thing a prolonged act of service. But as Dr. Murphy said when he talked to our nurses that last night in London, there is only one way of bearing the close contact with such pain and sorrow, of bearing whatever discomforts we may ourselves have to bear, of working out our own internal problems of antipathies or antagonisms, of keeping our souls serene, and that is by doing it all with the deepest religious motive and in utter devotion to service. I have heard him say many times, “We have come to serve in whatever way we can and as long as we are needed.” And so I look ahead to the future with the greatest peace of mind. I am not afraid of any difficulties with my women or with the men.

My women are splendid. A few, of course, have periods of rearing, but they all have steadied down most beautifully. And I think now that it was emotions strained almost beyond endurance at first that caused the rearing. We are all happy, contented, and well, and I am so proud of the spirit of coöperation I find among them I can hardly express it. I certainly have some wonderfully splendid women with me. Some of them have queer exteriors and some queer ways, but they are fine within. Every now and then I put on the bulletin board some little poem about the meaning of the war and the ideals we are fighting for, or a paragraph from some newspaper about America’s quick response to the call for help to defend these ideals, and you ought to see their heads go up and their eyes brighten. They don’t care that they have had bully beef twice in one day or that the knives and forks are sticky, and they have no tablecloths or butter dishes. It would be so hopeless if one did not get a response. My bulletin board is the side of a packing box put on a standard just outside the mess door.

I seem to write such queer things. I was going to tell you about our Fourth of July party. We invited the other American Unit (from Cleveland) down to a baseball game and tea. It was a great success, as the day was fine and we could have our refreshments on the grass under some trees. Miss Watkins, our dear dietitian, and some of the others worked all the afternoon getting sandwiches, and strawberries, and tea, and little cakes, and lemonade ready, which the doctors paid for. It was a great success. Then after dinner we went up to No. 9 General, where the Clevelanders hold forth, and had a little dance in their nurses’ mess hall. We stopped at 11, as we all had a half hour’s walk home. It was a wonderful night. Dr. Allison and I brought up the rear of the procession and discussed the affairs of the universe.

July 10. Ruth and I have been to town this lovely afternoon to do a few errands and wander around the quaint little back streets and visit the wonderful churches. I am having an extra serge uniform made. It has already been a month in the making, but it will probably be finished soon now. It looks as if it were going to be very satisfactory. Before we came back to our camp we had supper at a very French place and enjoyed our omelette aux champignons, sole frite, petits pois au beurre, salade aux fines herbes and café and pêches to the very limit, although we had to pay the very limit for it, and all felt very extravagant when we saw the bill. Food is very expensive, but the French are not losing anything from the English and American trade. They tack on all sorts of prices to everything they can get away with. It is very restful and relieving to the mind to get away from the hospital, and I try to do it at least once every week for the best part of an afternoon.

We are not working too hard here, any of us, but I find that I am pretty tired most of the time because I cannot escape from my responsibilities at any time, even when I am off duty, which is not much except in the evenings because I am right in the middle of things all the time, and each one of the sixty-four has some question to ask almost every time they see me. You see everything over here is different, the details are hard to learn, or rather they are hard to get over to each one of the sixty-four. I have not been sleeping very well for the same reason. I hear every one that goes by my room and I hear all the women in my hut get to bed and all they have to say as they get ready for the night, and I hear them all get up in the morning etc. But I keep thinking that I shall get used to all of this and not be so noticing. I am better than I was in London or on the boat. I have my room fixed up so that it looks quite comfortable. I probably shall spend most of my spare time down here in the office in the grandstand, for down here I am more isolated from my responsibilities. Just outside are the doctors’ tents, but when they perform their ablutions out here in front of my door, it does not disturb me in the least, because it is not up to me whether they are as comfortably taken care of as possible. Their quarters are even more primitive than ours. Many of them are two in a tent in which they can hardly stand upright, and their toilet articles are laid on a box and their clothes they have to hang on the tent pole. We all have a little washstand, and an enamel basin and pitcher and pail, which were furnished us since we arrived here. With that and a small table and a little shelf and some hooks in the corner we can be very civilized.

Hot water is a very great problem, for all our water for cooking, washing dishes, and bathing 104 women is heated in two small tanks over little coal fires, and the supply is very inadequate. But little by little things get made more practical and sensible. So many things were unnecessarily uncomfortable. My next domestic job is to find out how to get dishes for one hundred people washed when hot water is entirely insufficient, so that they are not always sticky and smelly. I presume it can be done, but at present I acknowledge I am baffled. I am taking it for granted that you are interested in these sordid details. They really seem very important over here, although to you in America they probably do not rank as highly as stopping hemorrhages and writing letters for dying soldiers. They truly don’t to us all the time. But this is a trivial letter meant for only a few who want to know details.