July 16th. We dock at the old Compagnie Générale Transatlantique pier, most of which is turned into a hospital. More waiting and while we wait a trainload of wounded arrive and are carried in litters aboard the ship. I hear no complaint. Most of the men are smoking cigarettes.
After several hours of cooling our heels we are told to go to the Hotel Moderne by the French Commandant. Havre is entirely taken over by the British. Most of the tram-cars are run by Tommies and the city is policed by them. The men doing police duty walk in pairs, wear a red band around their hats and have a brassard on the arm with "M. P." and are a fine looking lot. The Moderne is an easy third-rate hotel. Am rooming with McWilliams.
In the early evening the Commandant calls again and tells us we are to proceed to Vittel by a slow train. It is most disappointing as I had hoped for a few days in Paris, especially as we had been sidetracked from London. At the instigation of Major Bruce we proceeded to the État Major of the Havre district, who finally agreed to telephone to American headquarters at Paris. The answer comes that our orders are absolute; that we were to embark at eight p. m. The train would leave at nine p. m. and we would be approximately forty-eight hours en route—no arrangements for sleeping or anything. The officers for which I arrange had packages of two eggs, 400 grams of bread and 100 grams of cheese. So we start off. A few Red Cross Frenchwomen and some men, together with the French Commander and a file of about twelve soldiers come down to see us off. The soldiers present arms, the Red Cross ladies hand us a small nosegay of sweet peas, a small box of grapes is entrusted to Henry Cave, and the train snorts out. The men go third class, the nurses second class, officers first class, and we all go like hogs!
While at Havre, Russell, McWilliams, James and a few others motored over to Étretat and saw Brewer, Darrach and his crowd. They are delightfully situated. Saw Sally Strain and had a little chat with her. Paul Draper was working in the outfit as an orderly. They took their hospital over from the English who had everything working well and had established a good precedent.
July 17th. In the words of the prophet, "The hell of a night." We tried to doctor the seats so one could lie down, but your head would always come out lower than your feet and there was little use in trying. About two hours was the average, with a cold-gray-dawn feeling as if one had been on an all-night debauch. There was no use trying to wash, because there was nothing to wash in or with.
We opened the emergency package and had breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, black bread and cheese. About six a. m. we pulled in to St. Lazaire Station in Paris and in ten minutes were out again. Then backing and filling for an hour when we landed at Noisy-le-Sec, nine kilometers from Paris. There we were told by the lieutenant we had missed our connection and would remain till two thirty.
Noisy-le-Sec is a poor working suburb of Paris. Just why we could not have been left in Paris to have a comfortable breakfast is probably unknown, except that when two alternatives are presented—a comfortable, convenient one, or an uncomfortable, inconvenient one—the rules of the game seem to be always to take the more inconvenient of the two. There is apparently a lack of any definite plan for us.
We foraged around Noisy, got a good bath and managed, for an exorbitant price, to obtain a fair déjeuner in a small workingman's restaurant which was filled with military.
As one travels through the country the results of the war are very apparent. The countryside is deserted and only women are seen working in the fields. It's women, boys and old men. The lovely flowers that we formerly saw in such profusion are scarcely seen now. In spite of the shortage of labor, however, the fields are all well planted.
Constant trains filled with soldiers are passing northward, and at every station we stop there are a number waiting to join their commands or coming home on leave. During the afternoon we jogged along at about twenty-five kilometers an hour with frequent long stops. At seven o'clock some more brown bread and cheese. I had gotten a bottle of red wine during our few minutes' stop in Paris which helped things along nicely. Then about ten we settle down for our second night.