CHAPTER VIII.

THE CARNAGE OF BATTLE.

After the fall of Liege and Namur, the destruction of Louvain and a number of noted cities, towns and villages, our minds were concerned with that awe-inspiring event—the advance of the enemy to Brussels.

Well do we remember that beautiful summer evening, when our prayers and evening meditation in the chapel were disturbed for about an hour by the continuous whirl of automobiles passing the Convent. We were told that evening that it was the departure of the legislative body from Brussels to Antwerp, with the archives and treasures of the Government.

Our hearts seemed to grow cold and leaden within us as we sat there hoping, praying, fearing, yet instinctively feeling the doom so rapidly approaching.

One gloomy, rainy day, word came that over two thousand soldiers of the Civil Guard had lowered their weapons at the approach of the enemy and quietly surrendered the City of Brussels, Belgium’s beautiful capital. To have fought without fortifications against such superior forces as the Germans possessed would have been a useless sacrifice of life.

Strict, in the extreme, were the regulations enforced by the Germans in the different places which they entered. They also levied enormous war taxes. Bold and undaunted even to the verge of imprudence, as was then remarked by the Belgians, was the conduct of Burgomaster Max, of Brussels, in his conduct toward the enemy.

The work of strengthening and completing the fortification of Willebroeck, said to be amongst the strongest in the world, continued, while a large number of soldiers, as watch guards, were constantly on duty.

The electricity which supplied light to the village and kept many a motor propelling, was entirely cut off from the houses and public buildings and concentrated at the fort.

Two thousand workmen engaged in the paper factories of Mr. Louis De Naeyer were out of work. Charitable ladies, aided by Madame De Naeyer, of the Castle of Willebroeck, and assisted in the work by some of the Sisters, met daily at the Boys’ Public School and made ready a good, strong soup, which was dealt out in cans or pitchers to the destitute families of these poor workmen.

The paper factories, the Castle of Blaesvelt, belonging to a former Belgian Ambassador to Washington, whose wife was a native of that city, and the large and newly equipped breweries of the Erix families, were stripped of their machinery and made to serve as fortresses by boring holes through their walls for the reception of cannon and _mettrailleusen_ (machine guns). The paper factory itself, commanding a good position near the bridge of the canal, was so arranged that it could be flooded at a moment’s warning; and this was actually done, as we were informed by the refugees in England, when the battle at the fortress took place prior to the fall of Antwerp.

During the progress of the campaign in the vicinity at that time, several occurrences affected, in a great measure, every aspect of daily life for the quiet residents of Willebroeck, and particularly for the Sisters, unaccustomed as they were to any participation in the affairs of the world, except such as were imperative for the direction and maintenance of their schools.

These were: First, the arrival of the Red Cross and wounded soldiers, some six weeks before our departure from Antwerp; second, the return of the army; third, the flight of the refugees; fourth, the daily increasing and ever nearer approaching roar of the cannonade.

One afternoon in the middle of August a large, heavy wagon was drawn into the yard. It bore the flag of the Red Cross on top, and on the side in great white letters the words “Military Hospital.”

In a few minutes a fleshy little gentleman, who at once distinguished himself as the “Chef” (chief), and a number of other gentlemen, about thirty-five in all, wearing white bands with red crosses on their arms, and long white linen coats over their uniforms, such as bakers sometimes wear, were seen hurrying to and fro, unpacking and carrying their various instruments and utensils to the operating room.

A military chaplain and four or more doctors accompanied the group. All except the chaplain were dressed in uniform. Several young ladies of Willebroeck, former members of our Boarding-school, dressed in white and wearing the head-dress and arm-band of the Red Cross, came next day and graciously presented themselves to aid in taking care of the wounded.

The services rendered by the Red Cross in time of war is simply inestimable. “When circumstances permit, there are three different posts or places where the wounded are treated,” said the village doctor who assisted in training the young lady volunteers to the Red Cross army. “The first post is only a few yards distant from the battle field and as near as possible to the firing line. This post is very dangerous. Only volunteers are sent there, as a rule. The members go out on the field in search of the wounded, amid the continual bursting of partially exploded shells. One careless step may cause serious wounds or instant death. Then again, after a battle has been fought, there is occasional shooting, even in the night; but the members of the Red Cross have consecrated themselves to the service of the sick and wounded soldiers, and God gives them strength and courage according to their necessities.”

When found, the wounded are brought into the first post on stretchers or in ambulance wagons, and only those attentions which are absolutely necessary are given. Then they are taken to the second post or hospital, where a more thorough examination takes place and the necessary operations are performed, which consist principally in the extraction of bullets, setting and amputation of broken limbs, etc.

Here they remain until they become convalescent, unless the number of wounded soldiers increases to such a degree as to prevent proper care being taken of them, in which case they are taken away to a third hospital, where they are supposed to remain until their wounds are entirely healed. Then they ardently desire, if not maimed, to return again to the front.

When a seriously wounded soldier is brought into the hospital, he is stripped of his clothing, wrapped in a sheet and carried to the operating room. This service is rendered by the gentlemen of the Red Cross. One or more of the lady nurses assist at the operation. If the soldier is mortally wounded and there is apprehension of immediate dissolution, he remains in the sheets and is lovingly cared for by these gentlemen until death occurs. Then the body is rolled in the sheet, placed in a coffin and buried the next day.

Coffins were provided by our village for the soldiers who died in our hospital. One day nine were carried away to the cemetery; another day, two; then one or two. Several were dead or at the point of death when they were brought into the hospital.

One poor factory woman came inquiring for her husband. We did not dare tell her that he died immediately when brought in, but left this sad task for Rev. Mother Superior.

On another day a woman and her daughter-in-law came from a great distance inquiring for her son, the young woman’s husband. Heart-rending was their anguish when they were told that he was already a week buried. These and numberless cases of like character indicate what war is, even when viewed from a favorable standpoint.

All the clothing of the wounded soldiers was carried at once to our new steam laundry, where it underwent a most thorough washing and disinfection. This clothing was, for the most part, stiff with mud, saturated with blood and badly torn. When dried it was given back to those in charge of the army. The Sisters and servant-maids performed this work. They were assisted by the women refugees of Willebroeck, whose houses were burned off on account of the fortress. Washing took place every day and continued until late in the night.

The condition of the poor maimed soldiers was sad to behold. One man, we were told by the Red Cross nurses, had twenty bullets in his body; another was pierced through the lung by a bayonet; one, aged twenty, lost an arm to the shoulder; one had only one or two fingers left on the hand; one was crazed by a bullet which touched the brain; another was shot through the mouth, the bullet lodging in the back of the throat. His case was especially distressing, his the most intense suffering of all. He lived for a week without eating, drinking or speaking.

Three wounded Germans were brought in, being picked up on the battle field by members of our division of the Red Cross. They seemed greatly distressed and afraid, positively refusing to touch food or drink of which the Sisters or nurses did not first partake. One was a German lieutenant, under whose direction, as he himself admitted, great damage had been done in one of the large cities. He was given the distinction of a bed among the Belgian officers. He was very ill at ease in their presence, in the beginning, but becoming reassured and observing the impartiality of Sisters and nurses, he desired to remain in our hospital rather than be removed to a third post.

One day we were called upon to witness a most sorrowful sight. A small farmer’s wagon drove up to the gate, bearing the lifeless bodies of two children, a girl aged eight and her brother, aged fourteen. The mother and a smaller child were also in the wagon. The mother related that they were taking flight as refugees. Seeing the enemy, they hastened to retreat, and were fired at by the soldiers. The children, who were in the back part of the wagon, were struck and wounded in a most frightful manner. The little girl’s face was nearly all torn off, and the back of the boy’s head had been shattered.

At the approach of Belgian soldiers, who fired at the enemy, the mother was enabled to pick up the lifeless bodies of her children, put them into the wagon and drive with them to our hospital, which was the nearest post.

These people were from Nieuwenrode, Province of Brabant. It was said that many German soldiers were in ambush, in this region, although no battle had occurred there. The Doctors Van Everbroeck and DeLatte, who examined the bodies of these children, stated that they were shot at a distance of twenty meters.

The mother, suffering greatly from the shock, and the remaining child were taken to the village hospital.

Flour, soap and washing soda were supplied by the Government for the use of the soldiers. The Sisters performed the work and used a great deal of their own provisions for the wounded. A large quantity of linen for sheets, gowns and hand towels, was supplied by the “Chef” of the Red Cross. The Sisters, when not engaged in other work, spent the time in folding, hemming and stitching these articles and in preparing surgical dressings for the wounded.

Several Sisters and at least two lady nurses remained in charge of the different wards day and night. The most perfect order and discipline prevailed. The wounded soldiers who were at all able to get around walked in the garden or rested and visited with their families, who came to see them.

The tender care of mothers for their children could not surpass the devoted kindness of the members of the Red Cross in their services to the wounded. Nothing that could be done to assist or alleviate their sufferings was omitted. The soldiers were to each other as brothers of one family. We have seen them carrying in, on stretchers, their weary, foot-sore comrades, and with the tenderest care take off the clumsy, muddy shoes, gently strip the blistered feet of the coarse stockings and, on bended knees, bathe and bandage them.

The first division of the Red Cross which came to our Hospital was with us about five weeks. One evening about seven o’clock, some time after Brussels had been occupied by the Germans, a dispatch came to the “Chef” commanding the Red Cross to leave Willebroeck at once and go to another station. Again there was hurrying to and fro. The large wagon was opened and everything hastily packed in. In the different wards the poor wounded soldiers, obliged to leave their beds, were sitting silent and motionless, while tears were in their eyes. Later in the night motor cars came and took them all away. The German lieutenant, on account of the condition in which he was found by the physicians, could not be removed at that time and remained until the departure of the second ambulance.

Preparations for the departure of the Red Cross continued most of the night. With the continual running back and forth, and the noise produced by taking up and laying down boxes and bundles, there was no rest to be obtained.

Before seven in the morning all the wards were empty. One or two soldiers, whose condition did not permit of their removal, still remained. All noise and commotion had ceased and the silence of death reigned in the house.

A day or two of repose would have been a welcome boon to the Sisters, who were much fatigued at that time. However, rest was impossible, as we obtained a message that another division of the Red Cross was on its way to our hospital. So it happened that all the rooms and various apartments had to be cleaned and rearranged at once. This work took place immediately. Two days later, although the pungent smell of disinfectants still pervaded the air, every ward was as neat and clean as if no wounded soldiers, no death, nor sorrow had entered there.

We did not know the cause of the sudden departure of the Red Cross, as the strictest secrecy was observed by the officers of the army; but we remarked a little later that this departure was necessary on account of the rapid advance of the fast-approaching enemy and the evident possibility of a heavy pitched battle at the fortress. In such a case the convalescent could not remain longer than was absolutely necessary. They were obliged to go in order to make place for the numerous wounded who were yet to come.