I saw a lot of hospitals and was rather favorably impressed with them. At the Hotel Dieu, they had received seven hundred patients within twenty-four hours. I think the saddest part was the eye ward, there were so many who would never see again and some of them so young. There were some with both legs gone and others both feet, and many with one arm or leg missing.
The boats on the river that were fitted up as hospitals were very interesting, but I fancy would be very hot in the summer and the mosquitoes would be terrible.
Saturday I spent the day with Mademoiselle R——, who had been staying at the Hotel at Divonne for a time. The R——’s are a wealthy family who have lived in Lyons for generations. Mademoiselle was able to take me to a good many of the hospitals, as they have done a good deal for them. We visited them in the morning, which was much more interesting, as we saw the work going on. At two of the hospitals wounded were arriving when we left there, so we saw the whole thing. I also saw the dressing being done in one of the large military hospitals. In the afternoon we went to a “Red Cross” hospital, where she worked in the lingerie; there are fifty beds and the patients are taken care of by the sisters. They seemed to be very cheerful and well looked after.
Sunday morning I got up at 3.30 and took a train at 4.30 for Romans where Mrs. C—— is working in a military hospital. At eight I arrived at Tourons and had to walk from there to a small village called Tain, where I got a tramway to Romans. I arrived at eleven, had my lunch on the sidewalk before a cafe,—a most excellent meal for fifty cents. I found Mrs. C—— at the convent, where she is staying; fortunately she had the afternoon off. She has charge of the dressings and all of the infected operations. At the hospital where she is they have forty wounded Germans; they seem very contented and glad to be there. Mrs. C—— says it is dreadful to do their dressings, for they have no self-control at all; they have a certain dogged courage that makes them fight as they do, in the face of certain death, but when they are wounded they cannot stand the pain. The French, on the contrary, seldom say a word; they will let one do anything, and if the pain is very bad they moan occasionally or say a swear word, but I have never seen one who lost control of himself and screamed.
I had dinner with Mrs. C—— at the convent, and at 7.15 took the train for Valence where I changed and waited two hours for the train to Lyons, but there was so much going on at the station that the time did not seem long,—troops coming and going all the time and a hospital train with three hundred wounded arrived.
Monday morning I left for Divonne and arrived back very tired but well satisfied with my trip.
I found two new patients, one with a leg as big as an elephant and the other out of his head. I have twelve now on my floor.
Just think! lily of the valley grows wild here, and you can get a bushel in a morning; the whole place is sweet with the perfume.
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.