Toul is a dreary place and the darkest corner of France I have found. I have tried to organize the service, a thing requiring some tact, as each hospital has an excellent chief of its own medical service.
On October 6th I got into Paris for the Red Cross medical meeting. It was my first sight of real civilization since the previous April when I hated the everlasting dreary nights. However, this time it did not make much difference, as I was dog-tired and only too glad to turn in after dinner. Spirits are brighter moreover with the continuing good news. ***
The Last Salvo
November 11th. The last salvo was fired at eleven this morning! While I was in Paris called on L. There were two old chatterboxes there who cackled about divorces and clothes. It gave me such a strange sensation and seemed so unreal and trivial. I suppose the world must go on in spite of war—"battle, murder and sudden death."
November 18th. Was commissioned Lieutenant-Colonel to-day and walked down town and bought some silver leaves in the afternoon.
On November 3rd a telegram from Helen telling me that dear father had died on the tenth of October. I had expected it, but it was a shock.
November 24th. Have just returned from what I hope will be the last Paris medical meeting. I want to get home, and kicking about the city is pretty dreary. Called on every one I knew. Saw Dorziat and Lucien Guitry in "Samson" and supped at Maxim's.
Have applied for home, and am hoping with all my heart that it will go through. Work over here is an awful anti-climax now.
December 6th. Toul. Called up Neufchâteau three days ago and spoke to Major McLean. General Thayer, as usual, was not there. However, McLean told me I would get my home orders. The same night Colonel Thornburgh told me he had arranged matters so I could go, but now it was necessary to wait for my rating card before the final orders could be issued, so here I am, waiting.