Madame Cyon had various patients at Lille. Her 24 Germans, she told me, gave her no more trouble than any ordinary patients. She had, however, four French Moroccan soldiers to nurse, and she describes them as extremely savage. She was sometimes afraid of them, and of one especially.
Madame Cyon was often overworked, and patients are not always reasonable. One evening she brought her German patients some mutton stew, and one of the wounded men made a dissatisfied remark about it. Madame Cyon was feeling very tired and the remark hurt her. She remained outside in the corridor instead of coming to the men as usual during their meal. Presently one man who had acted as interpreter came out. “Madame, you are cross.” “Yes, I am.” “Why are you cross?” “The men have been well treated, I have done all I could, and now they grumble about nothing.” The man was very sorry, he went back, and presently all who could walk came out and apologised. How strangely alike, after all, we human beings are! But our rulers could never lead us out in armies to kill each other unless they persuaded us somehow that we only were wonderfully fine chaps, and the others were brutes. Yet the appeal of kindness and devotion tells everywhere. So when the German science student, Albin Claus, mentioned in Madame Cyon’s account (p. [262]), found her much overworked, he said, “You go to sleep, and I will keep watch,” and he helped in all ways to keep things right.
“I have since written to the same science student,” writes Madame Cyon; “before leaving the hospital he asked my address and I his. He told me he would always be glad to help me in any way, as he knew that I had five brothers in the French army. At the time one of my brothers was missing. I wrote to this man, then promoted a Lieutenant, and I had two letters from him via Switzerland. The correspondence was concerning my brother, and Lieutenant V. R. Albin Claus did his best to help me, and spoke in his letters of his stay in hospital 105, thanking me for my care.”
Another Sort of Witness.
The soldier on both sides has been told all sorts of horrors about the enemy. Hatred is recognised as a great weapon of destruction. The contrast between what the soldier has seen and what he has heard is well illustrated by a story told by Mr. John Buchan in one of his lectures. A wounded Scot had said to him, of the Germans, “They’re a bad, black lot, but no the men opposite us. They were a very respectable lot, and grand fechters.”—Times, April 27, 1915.
War Zone Children.
Under the heading “War Zone Children,” the following paragraph appeared in the Westminster Gazette of the 30th November, 1915:
The Society of Friends’ Emergency Committee for Aliens has just received the following letter from Dr. Elisabeth Rotten, of Berlin (before the war lecturer at Newnham College, Cambridge), showing that the German committee for helping alien enemies in distress is not behind similar committees in this country in looking after the little ones belonging to enemy countries:
30/11/15.
Before I leave Switzerland, after a short visit, I should like to write you a few lines.