I think I shall have to find a new job when the war is over, for I don’t think I shall ever do any more nursing.
I am trying to find a lot of straw hats like “cows’ breakfasts” and cheap parasols to protect their heads when they are taking sun baths.
The dressings are taken down and one thickness of gauze only left over the wound, and they are left in the sun from twenty minutes to two hours according to what they can stand.
April 11, 1916.
Yesterday we had quite an interesting time with air crafts. The machine came down so close, that we could see the pilot and his assistant who waved to us that they were going to throw something to us. A package landed, almost in the pond. It turned out to be a letter tied up in a handkerchief with some shot as weight. It was from the English boys who were patients here for a while; they told us they would pay us a visit some day. We could see the machine gun in front of the aeroplane quite distinctly. In the afternoon there was another excitement—a German machine chased by several French. It looked from below as if they had got him, but they all disappeared in the clouds and we did not know the result of the fight.
At nine o’clock there was a terrific explosion as if a bomb had dropped just outside the gate. We all rushed out and could hear the aeroplane distinctly, but could not see it; no damage was done near us. We have just heard that the bomb landed just outside the village doing no damage.
Thanks for the toilet articles, they are a wise selection. What we before considered necessities we now know are luxuries.
We have just got off a motor full of convalescents going home on permission. I hope they will get a month, some of them have been in the trenches twenty months.
May 3, 1916.
I got a lot of linen hats and Chinese umbrellas to keep the sun off the patients when they are out of doors.