May 29, 1915.
We got twelve more patients Wednesday,—six left. I still have fifteen; this lot were all ill. One man is quite a character. The doctor put him on milk diet the first day—but he did not approve, so he went to the village and bought a loaf of bread and some ham.
Between the florist of the village and the wife of one of the soldiers I am kept well supplied with roses. I wish I could share my riches with you.
I am anxiously waiting to hear of the safe arrival of the Twenty-fourth; as we have heard nothing, they must be all right. It is hard to have them go but I cannot understand the attitude of those who will not go or who object to their men and boys going. You are just beginning to feel now what they have been suffering here since August last.
Madam L’H—— was called back to Verdun to-day; she was supposed to have three weeks’ holidays, but has only been away ten days. She is not fit to go back but there is no help for it.
There was great excitement here when Italy finally declared war. It is awful to think of the brutes throwing bombs on Venice. I do hope they will not do any harm there.
I must say good-night, for I am tired. I am up at half-past five every morning and seldom get off duty before nine at night.