The Journal[7] kept by Sister Marguerite, and published in 1918 by her permission for Red Cross benefit, gives a picture of life—or existence—in Ypres during the first eight months of its siege. It is so vivid, and at the same time so simply told, that (as I fear that copies of the Journal may no longer be obtainable) I make no apology for quoting from it. It is the poignant story of war as it appeared to a woman suddenly called out of a life of peaceful work to face its realities in their grimmest form, to do so without the excitement of fighting and without the comradeship of the regiment, or even the use of the soldierly mask of humour, to cover up the unrecordable reality.
The Germans actually entered Ypres on the 7th of October, the first day on which any shells fell on the town, and one civilian was killed in his own room. But the children on that day amused themselves afterwards by picking up the shrapnel bullets! After the Germans were turned out a week later, one of their companies was found to have left behind a characteristic notice: "Les Allemands craignent Dieu et hors Lui nulle chose au monde." They had succeeded in doing a fair amount of pillaging, as well as making heavy requisitions, during their few days of occupation.
It is pleasant to find that Sister Marguerite has nowhere anything but praise for the behaviour of the British soldiers who occupied the city for so long. She tells of British wounded coming into Ypres, and with them a German wounded prisoner. A woman ran up to offer milk to the men, but, with the recollection that her husband had been killed by a German shell, would not give any to the German. A soldier, however, who had been wounded by this particular German, drank only half his milk, and passed the rest on to his prisoner. She adds: "Ce n'est pas la première fois que nous pouvons admirer pareils actes de générosité."
On the 6th of November an operation was being carried on involving the amputation of a man's hand; the Sister who had tried to act as nurse had fainted, and Sister Marguerite (herself not long out of the surgeon's hands) took her place:
"Nous commençâmes donc: la main de M. Notevaert était démise; quand, vers 2 h. ½, un obus tomba sur notre couvent et détruisit deux classes à 10 métres de l'École menagère ou nous étions. Les éclats de verre et les pierres arrivèrent jusqu'a nous et un grand trou fut fait dans le mur. Le docteur venait de faire la dernière entaille; nous étions là tous les deux, pâles de frayeur, comme dans un nuage de fumée et blancs de poussière, lui tenant encore dans sa main le bistouri et moi la main démise dans la mienne. Quelques instants nous restâmes indécis. Les blessés criaient, et en un moment tout fut sens dessus-dessous. 'Ta, ta, ta,' dit M. le docteur, 'ce n'est rien. Continuons notre besogne, car nous n'avons pas de temps à perdre.' ..."
Among the wounded at this time were three Germans, of whom one (a Prussian) refused either to eat or drink, alleging that he would be poisoned!—presumably an idea encouraged by his officers to prevent surrender. Eventually he took what the sisters gave him.
A few days later came a real baptism of fire:
"Vers 11 heures, M. le Curé me dit d'aller chercher rue du Canon deux vieilles femmes.... Comme on bombardait justement ce quartier, je le priai de me laisser attendre le moment d'une accalmie. 'Allez-y tout de suite,' me repondit-il, 'on pourrait oublier ces pauvres gens plus tard et leur vie en dépend peut-être.' 'Au nom de Dieu,' me dis-je, et je partis. Mais à peine avais-je fait quelques pas dans la rue que ... 'sss ... sss ... pon!' La tête d'un shrapnel roula dans la rue, tout près de moi. Je retournai en courant. Mais M. le Curé avait entendu le son de ma voix et de la cuisine il me cria: 'Eh bien! n'êtes vous pas encore parti?' A trois reprises je retournai pour revenir presque aussi vite. Enfins je m'enhardis et je revins cette fois avec les petites vieilles, que je conduisis au couvent. Pas moins de cinq shrapnels passèrent au-dessus de nos têtes, et vous pouvez penser si le cœur me battait.... Cependant c'est à partir de ce jour que je devins plus courageuse pour affronter les bombardements."
The "Menin Gate" of Ypres ([Plate 5]) is nothing now but a broad gap in the old fortifications, where the long, straight road from Menin through Gheluvelt bends round to enter the city. During the whole of the siege of Ypres—that is, in fact, during the whole of the war—this spot was continuously exposed to German shell-fire, one of the "hottest" points over the whole war area. On the left of the "Gate" Canada has purchased a certain amount of ground for a Canadian memorial. The old walls, however, have remained, and the "casemates" ([Plate 6]) on their inner sides were for many weeks or even months the sole refuge of the poorer inhabitants who possessed no cellars of their own. The story of how these poor folk had to be removed, perforce, both for safety and for sanitary reasons, is best told in Sister Marguerite's words:
5 Decr.—"Chaque famille y choisit son petit coin, y installe deux ou trois matelas, deux ou trois chaises, une petite lampe, parfois une petite table et un réchaud à pétrole. La lourde porte d'entrée[8] était entr'ouverte. Il n'est pas étonnant des lors qu'après peu de temps, des maladies contagieuses s'y déclarèrent. Des habitants restèrent six semaines dans ce réduit sans voir la lumière du jour. J'y trouvai un jour un enfant de deux mois qui y était né et n'avait pas encore respiré l'air pur du dehors."