Not in the least surprised by my audacity he asked, "Are you a nurse?"
"No."
"Have you ever seen an operation."
"Yes."
I lied.
"Have you a good temperament?"
"Yes."
"Then come over here and hold this basin." I obeyed, and then Doctor Jean Masbrennier began a series of operations which will remain graven in my memory forever.
As he worked he talked—and informed me that the Red Cross Society had been hastily evacuated in the morning, doctors and all. Only those who were unable to be moved had been left behind, and only two civilian doctors were left to attend them. But one nurse remained to do all the bandaging. That was why I had been rung into service. It took but little time to find a mutual acquaintance in the person of Elizabeth Gauthier, and the doctor had long been familiar with H.'s work.
It would be useless to describe the horrors that I witnessed, or try to do justice to the heroic way those first glorious wounded of this lengthy war accepted their fate. I cannot, however, resist mentioning the endurance of a big black Senegalais, who won the admiration of both doctors and neighbors by refusing morphine or cocaine, and insisting on having the seven bullets that were lodged in his neck and throat withdrawn thus—never uttering a murmur!