He dared not refuse this order, and sent for the steward and gave him the paper to fill out the order. I followed closely on the heels of this man to his office, where he coolly thrust the paper into a pigeon-hole and sat down. Surmising that his intention was to make me wait until after office hours, I at last said to him: “Steward, if you do not intend to make out that paper at once I shall report you to Medical Headquarters.” He soon found time and made out the paper, and I rode away to unravel more red tape. At the Medical Department the doctors signed the paper, and directed me to take it to the War Department. Distances were great and office hours short, and so another day passed. But at the earliest moment on the following day, we drove to the War Department, where I found Captain Sam Breck, now a retired General, a handsome thoroughbred gentleman who had done me many army favors.
“Why, Miss Smith,” he exclaimed cheerfully, “are you here yet? I thought you were through with us.”
“Well, Captain, you haven’t got rid of me yet, and though I am completely tired out, I have taken another most distressing case, and I’m going to sit right down here and talk until you help me out.”
Jokingly, he said, “Oh, I can’t stand that, so let us see if I can save your breath.”
I stated the case as briefly as possible, and his sense of justice was aroused as he said emphatically, “I will help you with this case.”
“How long does it take to put through a descriptive list?” I asked.
“Well,” he replied, “about three weeks usually!”
“Oh,” I exclaimed, “that won’t do. I can’t stay so long, and if I leave the papers they’ll be pigeon-holed again.”
He thought a moment, and said, “Let me have the papers,” and he left me waiting in his office.
On returning the paper he said, “There, Miss Smith, that has never before been done in this Department. The descriptive list has been put through in fifteen minutes. Take it to your doctor, and he will be obliged to sign it; and then your man will be free.”