Re: 13 Jours En France Piano Sheet 12
Gifford Brickley
Such an early breakfast as we had yesterday morning, for all our patientswent to Descartes for their treatments de trs bonne heure,so that they might be back in time to go to Soeur Marie de la Croix'sfuneral. Mlle. Mlanie and I had the beds made by nine; I persuadedher then to leave me all the dusting so she should not be late for the service.To my surprise, I got to the Chapel in time to give a helping hand to ourtwo orderlies and two of the nuns who were carrying in the coffin. The bearershad never shown up, so these four, after waiting a while, had carried SoeurMarie the long distance from her room; down steep steps, across the bigcourtyard, in and out of doors and passages, and across the smaller court.The service was impressive and our aumonier militaire said mass beautifully,but there is nothing so comforting as our Anglican service. The Communaut,our patients, and a few people from outside, made up the congregation.Mlle. Mlanie and I thought Salle 1 looked especiallywell! Four of our patients wear the Croix de Guerre, and one theLegion d'Honneur besides. The service was long, and I had to leavebefore the end to set the table for le djeuner de messieurs lesofficiers.
In the afternoon, a charming friend of Helen's came to see her, Madamede la Rive, who has a beautiful place near St. Avertin. Before the war,she had a sort of school where English boys came to learn French; so many,many of her former pupils have been killed!
This morning came a fine postcard from Dangs. He has been promoted,and is now marchal de logis. I have had a nice letter fromMadame Dangs too; she is working at Lyons as devotedly as ever.Before going to La Torterue this afternoon I sent off a hundred francs ofEdith's money to a French hospital in Haute Garonne, which is run by a BritishUnit organized by Mrs. Leith-Ross, Admiral Grinnell's niece. Miss Aked,with whom I crossed from Southampton, is in charge of another hospital inthis same group. She has tubercular wounded and ill; few recover, and thereis terrible suffering before the end. Her hospital is in great need of everything,and I gave her one of Francie's hypodermic outfits; she wrote last weekthat she uses it with such gratitude. We have had a busy afternoon at LaTorterue. It was clean clothes day, and before beginning that drillthere was a good bit to do in the operating-room, for the last operationhad not begun until one, and things were behindhand in consequence. MadamePierracini gave me the clean clothes for the Boches to-day; they are ina room by themselves, and have a French sergeant to guard them, though theyshow no desire to escape. Three of them were huddled around the fire whenI went in, while the fourth was staring out of the window with such a forlornexpression. I expect they know the truth now, and it can't be pleasant.It was strange to hear again such words as Guten Abend, gndigesFrulein, adieu, Frulein under these circumstances. Afterfinishing there, I went up with Helen to a gloomy attic, barely lightedby three small windows, and smoky from a stove which does n't heat. Theattic is called le village noir, because seven Moroccans exist there,and only one poilu. To-day two of the former were in bed, one with a hightemperature, pains in his chest, and a racking cough. We got him a drinkand gave him some of our aspirin. The other was recovering from an op. andwanted something badly. He spoke no French, but one of his pals toldus he longed for tea, which we eventually got him. Meanwhile the otherssat stolidly about, smoking and playing cards, while the poilu busied himselfweaving a big mat. When all the clean clothes were given out, Helen andI settled ourselves downstairs in the room with the piano. The rest of theafternoon passed in pulling threads in gauze, preparatory to cutting outdressings, while Helen and the other ladies worked on the flannel shirts.At odd times various poilus wandered in to try over their songs and thechoruses for the concert Wednesday, while all the time Pierre and Rentalked quietly, Secch bounced in and out, and Doy moped on the sofa.
The cold continues. Lyons is knee-deep in snow, and all communicationsare upset. In Paris the other day two women threw themselves in front ofa coal truck, and while the driver's attention was distracted by them, othersemptied the truck of its coal. We are fortunate in the Convent, becausewe have plenty of wood to carry us through the winter.
Captain Bonnet, our ranking officer, left yesterday to finish his convalescence.He has practically recovered from his last wound, a severe abdominal one.First wounded in September, 1914, in the throat, he spent eight days inthe hospital, and twenty convalescing, and then insisted on rejoining hisregiment at the front. He wears both the Croix de Guerre and theLgion d'Honneur, and is a fine fellow in every way. We shallmiss him. It's so sickening, patching up people to go back to the horrorof the front.
Helen and I had tea yesterday with Captain Billion-Bourbon and his wife,who has come on from Poitiers for a few days. Lt. Hardouin, who shares CaptainBillion-Bourbon's room was there too, --- a nice fellow; his four brothersare fighting, and his two sisters nursing. It was a wonderful party. Helencontributed a delicious American fruit cake, and there was an English plumcake, and ptisseries, which can still be bought two days inthe week. We drank our toast to the Allies in Vin fin de Xeres! CaptainBillion-Bourbon quoted Washington, of whom he is a great admirer, and talkedso interestingly. He has a splendid mind; what a sacrifice and loss sucha man is to his country.
We had a long afternoon at La Torterue Saturday; in the course of ourvaried labors we came across some tin boxes marked comit de Boston,and found that for a long time the comit has suppliedLa Torterue with all its best dressings and gauze; they also sent some sheets,which are still called les Amricains. Even the empty boxesare treasured, and made to serve in all sorts of ways. The discovery gaveone a pleasant feeling. Doy was terribly blue. "Troismois et un jour, et ne vois pas mieux. Pas bon, pas bon." Poorchild; he cried most of the afternoon. One of the Anamites, who has a terribleeye, tried to entertain Doy by making a mouse out of his handkerchiefand having if run up and down his arm and jump all over the room, but eventhis failed to cheer him. Secch is so different, full of larks, thinkingabout his Croix de Guerre, which he has earned but not yet received,and being altogether cold comfort to poor Doy.
This morning Lt. Bourseul, who is getting his papers in order, as heexpects to leave us shortly, showed us the radiographs and history of hiswound. Some story! The wound which has kept him here so long was a bad compoundfracture of the femur. It has been a hard pull and taken two operationsto get the leg into shape at all, and it's shorter now than the other one.He could apply for a soft job; instead, he has asked for duty inaviation, since he is no longer fit for infantry. As he was originally inthe Mounted Chasseurs, and was transferred to infantry at his ownrequest when the losses grew so heavy, his present choice is not surprising.He is such a charming person, --- we shall miss him so much.
To-day has been heavenly, very clear, and good flying weather. Ever somany oiseaux de France were out, and it was wonderful to see themflash and gleam in the golden air, as they circled and did stunts high upover our old wonder city. Helen and I walked to Les Tilleuls for tea, andsaw there three of Mlle. Edith's shell-shock pupils, whom she is teachingto talk again. Mme. Sourdillon took us over the hospital and we saw muchthat was interesting. Her cook is a refugee, whose husband and two sonsare at the front. She read us a letter which had just gotten through fromher village, where her father and mother are; a terrible letter, just abald summary of death and desolation. The boys of fifteen and sixteen arehiding in the woods like ravenous hunted wild beasts, to escape fightingor working for the Boche. Tears of anguish poured down the poor soul's faceas she talked. Little as she earns, she still manages to help others bysending food parcels to prisoners of war. I stayed behind a minute, andgave her a little money, out of Mrs. Merrill's contribution; I was so gladthat I had brought some. Mons. Sourdillon appeared for tea, a delightfulman, of great cultivation. Mlle. Edith and Mons. Andr, who was homeon short leave, were there too, and the talk was immensely interesting.. . . It was lovely coming home; dusk just setting in over our enchantedvalley, and little friendly lights beginning to twinkle as we walked alongby the river, --- an unforgettable hour of peace and beauty, when horrorand sorrow seemed remote. Yet every hour brings new horror and fresh sorrows.We have had our share of the latter lately here. Our gallant young Chasseurhas just lost his only brother, and it is a terrible grief to him, hisfirst. The brother took cold after a long march; Lt. Poirier went to Brestin response to the telegram which told him of his brother's illness, buthe got there too late. The other men are so wonderful about helping himbear his great sorrow.
Helen has heard from Mr. Simonds that he is sailing for home soon. Wegather he has had a satisfactory and encouraging trip. This is one of thedays when I feel profoundly discouraged. Not about the outcome of the war,for there is no doubt about that --- but about the endless problems andtheir appalling bigness; the war has created so many, and they increaseevery day it lasts. One often feels as though one should never have anotherthought of anything except to try and make some of these shattered liveshappier and better. Helen is accomplishing so much with her enterprise andresources, and I am continually grateful for the money which I hold in trust,for all the dear people who gave to me. It means so much here, more thanthey can possibly imagine.
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