From this little village 500 men left the first day of mobilization; there is not a family who has not some one gone, and from some both fathers and sons have gone, as the age limit is from twenty to fifty years.
I am filled with admiration and respect for these people. The courage of both the men and women is remarkable. There is no hesitation, and no grumbling, and everyone tries to do whatever he or she can to help the cause.
I do not know if I told you, in my last letter, of the poor lady who walked all night through the dark and storm to see her son who was leaving the next morning. All the horses and motors had been taken by the Government for the army, so she started at eleven o’clock at night, all by her self, and got here about five in the morning—her son left at seven, so she had two hours with him. While there are such mothers in France she cannot fall. There are many such stories I might tell you, but I have not the time.
The “Red Cross” has started a branch hospital here, and I have been helping them to get it in order. It is just about ready now, and we may get soldiers any day.
I have classes every morning and find many of the women very quick to learn the rudiments of nursing. Every one in the place is making supplies and our sitting room is a sort of depot where they come for work.
If my patient is as well in October as she is now I am going to stay and give my services to the “Red Cross.” If I have to go home with her I will come back—I would be a coward and deserter if I did not do all I could for these poor brave people.
October 25, 1914.
Another Sunday—but this is cold and rainy—the days slip by so quickly I cannot keep track of them. We have only two soldiers left at the hospital—they tell us every day that others are coming. The country all about is perfectly beautiful with the autumn coloring. We do not see any of the horrors of the war here. If it were not for the tales that come to us from outside, and for the poor broken men who come back, we would not know it was going on. There are very enthusiastic accounts of the Canadians in all the English papers.
Paris, about February 15, 1915.
Back safely in Paris after taking my patient to New York and a short visit home, which now seems like a dream.