A Nurse's Life in War and Peace

by E. C. Laurence

One night the medical officer went along, and when he returned he told me he had found their door unlocked and no guard on duty; fortunately they were all asleep. The next day this tale was about the ship, and very soon it was altered to the following version—"Last night Mr. —— had found that all the lunatics had escaped; he and Sister thought it better not to make a fuss. Instead, they caught the first eleven men whom they met and locked them up; they were not the real lunatics, but they had been bribed with extra 'skoff' to play the game and say nothing about it: but the real lunatics were still at large!" After that, if any one came up to a man rather quietly, there was a big jump, and "Hullo! are you one of them?" and then a great chase round the deck!

There were some hard cases, too, amongst the officers; two of them who had thighs broken by Boer shells, but were just beginning to walk again—one, however, with a short leg, and the other with a stiff knee.

A Yeomanry officer, badly shot in both arms, had one hand still quite useless; but I hope an operation may improve matters. He had had a dreadful time in the jolting ambulance waggons, unable to hold on, or to save himself with either hand.

Then, there was a young doctor who once, when our men were surprised and many of them taken, was going round dressing the wounded, when some Boers came up and shot the wounded as he was dressing them, and afterwards led him out several times saying they were going to shoot him, but eventually he got safely away. There were two officers shot through the lungs, but I think they will recover in time; and there was another young fellow shot in the region of the spine, and paralysed all down one side and leg; and yet another (quite a boy) shot in the thigh and paralysed on that side. Neither of these two could move without assistance; and, though they were all wonderfully bright and cheerful, I know I often found them lying awake for hours together, and it is hard for a young Englishman to face the thought that he may never be able to walk or ride again, even when he has received his wound in defence of his country.

As I finish this letter, we are just anchoring for the night in Southampton Water, off Netley Hospital; and, curiously enough, it is March 3rd, the very day I sailed for South Africa two years ago. To-morrow we hope to land at Southampton.

After a little time at home, I hope to persuade a sister of mine to pay a visit with me to another brother in the United States, and to some relations in Canada and Nova Scotia; then I must settle down to some steady work in England.

I would not have missed nursing through this war for a great deal. We have often had rough times, and anxious times, and of course I have not been able to do much, but I have been able to help a few men to recover their health and strength; and, perhaps, also to help a few in their last hours, men whose own relations would have given much to have been in my place, where it was not possible for them to be. And, however busy I was, I could at least find time to remind them that ... "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." ...

Still no one, who has not seen it, can realise the sorrow and the suffering that war entails; and I am almost inclined to agree with a man who was in Kimberley during the siege, who helped Mr. Cecil Rhodes in his work there, and who afterwards, when asked if he was not glad that he had had the chance of assisting Mr. Rhodes in his great work, said, "Yes, but when I think of all the suffering those unfortunate women and children had to endure, I think if I was ever again in a country where war was imminent, I should take a ship to the other side of the world, and stop there till it was over!"

I fear that we are not likely all to be able to do that; but I trust this war will have had the effect of making people think, and that should there ever be another war in our time, we may be better prepared for it.

War must always mean suffering, but the suffering might be enormously lessened if we were better organised in times of peace.