“April.
“La Panne[16] has changed a great deal these last few weeks. The tourist that would come here would think himself in an exhibition, just before opening day.
“On all sides one sees tents that spring from the ground. The floors would make fine skating rinks when the war is over.
“Truly the medical career is full of surprises, and I sometimes ask myself if my father, who as a youngster poached in the Forêt de Soignes, ever thought or even dreamed that he would one day be not only a great doctor, but a superior officer in the Belgian army.
“Life is a strange thing, Mother dearie, but I think that it can be very beautiful, if one understands it,—and also very sad.
“As to the war, the wounded are taking the illusion from us that we are having a vacation at the seaside.
“The weather has been so beautiful since the first day of spring that one is sometimes surprised not to see parasols of flaming colours, and the silhouettes of pretty women walking on the beach, or to see happy children building forts, which the incoming tide soon destroys. Alas! are we not all big children, we Belgians, that resist the incoming tide, and our forts no better or stronger? But I think the tide is high now, and soon it will go down.
“As to Y. P—— I think that we must give up all hope of seeing him again. We thought for a while he was a prisoner, but though we tried to find him we could not. And then, he would have let his mother have news from him, don’t you think?—since the 22d of October.
“We must not think of him now, we must remain courageous and keep on hoping.
“After the war, it will be time to count the spaces in our ranks, and I fear there will be many. My comrade was killed in our first bayonet charge. (You know we fight as much as possible in pairs.) I was about to kill a German when the man begged so pleadingly for his life, saying he had a wife and children, that I faltered for a moment—in that moment he half turned and quickly killed my comrade.”
“Brussels—end of April.
“Everybody here deprives himself to help the more unfortunate. Thanks to America the famine has been averted. The American Minister is adored and blessed by all. He is so simple and modest that he doesn’t like manifestations of thanks, but after the war we hope to show our appreciation. The d’Assches, Woelmonts, Pierre van der Straten and other faithful ones remain here until the day of deliverance. The Germans, after they have massacred and pillaged, now remain more quiet. They are ashamed, with reason, of their infamous doings, and I think the cruelties are past. But how does one know with barbarians? We are waiting for the Roumanians and the Greeks, and the Italians to enter on our side. The whole world wants to get all and risk nothing. I am writing to ask you if the singers in New York will not be able to organize something for the benefit of their dear brothers and sisters here. No music is possible. Professors and artists die from hunger....
“I want to tell you that my little Marie is going to make her first communion privately. It is a sweet consolation for me to prepare her. She is so simple and religious that I believe her prayers must be acceptable to the Lord. She is very young, only just seven; but as you know, Pope Pius Tenth wished that children should take their first communion at that age. In these grave days we wanted her to receive this great favour that she may unite her innocent prayers with ours in order that the Lord may hear us the better.”
“London, May 1, 1915.
“It is very wearisome waiting to be sent to La Panne—but the shelling of Dunkirk does not bode well for our speedy departure. We simply have to wait from day to day, ready to start at short notice. The American Red Cross doctors and nurses—of the two new units, just arrived from America—are waiting also in London. The rules are stricter and stricter for leaving England.... No one may now leave for nursing without having been definitely engaged in a hospital over there. People are often turned back from Dover in spite of passports which are apparently perfectly correct.
“You see La Panne is at present under shell fire—the King and Queen have been headquartering there, an added reason for the Germans to try to demolish it. But I hear that just now they have been too near La Panne to be able to get so short a range, and Dunkirk as you know has been the victim. Many hospitals there are being evacuated.... In the meantime I have been rather enjoying some free time here in London. I was busy for a while getting my new uniforms for La Panne—and odds and ends necessary for the ’war zone.’ The uniform is of dark blue, and we wear caps with a long white veil behind. In order to get my certificate I had to take an oral medical examination—in French—before five Belgian doctors. A very trying ordeal, for it was really a stiff examination, with questions which are asked of trained nurses in their third year. But I got through somehow, and am now the proud possessor of a certificate giving me ’le droit de me mettre au service de la Croix Rouge de Belgique en qualité d’infirmière’ signed by all the doctors.
“All the food for La Panne is sent out from London on Monday of each week by the Admiralty boat. They send only once a week, as it is necessary for supplies to be watched and escorted all the way—otherwise they get stolen. One day we saw a lot packed up all ready to start—some friends of Mother’s have charge of the whole fund, and also of the refugee fund which distributes food all over London and neighbourhood. They have been very nice to me, and offered me a job to drive a motor-van for them, carrying food to Belgian hostels and families. I went out with another girl once or twice, but have had no time yet to do anything regularly.... We are told that they are very much in need of ether at La Panne—and I want to send out some with the money which has been given me. But this last week or two nothing could be sent—fortunately there is a reserve supply of food at La Panne and another in Dunkirk, so it has not mattered much.... Since I came from Paignton I have been staying at the Nurses’ Hostel in Francis Street, off Tottenham Court Road, with Nurse Walsh and Nurse Scott. It is very big and comfortable—and very cheap—well known all over the world. And nurses are pouring in almost daily from Canada and Australia. It is quite an experience staying there, and I slept in a cubicle the first three nights to see what it was like!
“One day we went to an exhibition by the Women’s Signaling Corps. Women and girls are learning flag-signaling, and they are also to take up bicycle despatch-riding, telegraphy, etc. The idea is of course to free men for the front. Miss D——, who is the chief officer of the women police, and a remarkable woman, came to dinner with us last week. They have been enrolled with the aim of providing a body of trained women for the service of the public.
THE BELGIAN ARMY AT LA PANNE.
“I inclose you a copy of a letter from Lieutenant X——, who was in command of two companies of Gurkhas at the fight at Neuve Chapelle. It was written to his family on his twenty-eighth birthday.”
The letter from Lieutenant X—— follows:
“March 15, 1915.
“I ought to consider myself lucky to see another 15th of March, after the last five days. It has been absolute hell, but anyhow we won ground and killed more than we lost. The best way of telling you will be to quote my diary again.
“March 9th we spent in billets very cold, frosty and snow showers. Marched off at 11.30 P. M. for the Neuve Chapelle front, so we got no sleep that night.
“March 10th. Arrived in a trench line at about 3 A. M. after a march full of checks, owing to the crowded roads. The action about to take place was not a small one, but one by a front of three divisions, of which we were the center one. At 4.30 A. M. punctually, 480 guns opened fire and never I should think in history has there been such a bombardment. Our guns blazed away—the country behind was a mass of gun flashes—and in front of us a mass of smoke and shell bursts. There was not a second in which you could say, there is no gun firing—it was a continuous rattle and roar, and you could not hear yourself speak. We had to lie very low in our trench and there were several short bursts of our own shell going overhead; in fact I picked up two shrapnel bullets on my right hand side, and the base of a fuse on my left hand side. According to arrangements, at 8 A. M. our guns increased their range, and our first attacking line advanced under the enemy’s trenches. The first and second lines reached the enemy’s trenches with very little loss comparatively, as the enemy were quite disorganized by our shelling. They passed over two lines of trenches and reached an old trench line dug in the early days of the war—called the Smith-Dorrien line—about 1,200 yards beyond. I followed close behind, and Major B—— came last—we had about 96 casualties in the first advance. We all reached the Smith-Dorrien line with the Germans in full retreat, our guns firing shrapnel on them. At this point we could have advanced still further, but that for one thing our guns were still dropping shells just in front of us, and for another the division on our left had not advanced sufficiently to support us. My double company only got about thirty prisoners and two machine guns. We immediately started digging ourselves in against an expected counter-attack. Some snipers from a trench on our right troubled us for some time; the regiment on our right had somehow advanced beyond the trench without killing its occupants.... At dark another brigade passed through us and advanced towards a wood 1,000 yards in front of us, and entrenched themselves 250 yards in our front. Maxim and rifle fire was opened on them by the enemy from the edge of the wood, but they did not suffer very heavily.
“March 11th. The entrenched line ahead of us was held all day. We got heavily shelled all day—the heaviest shells dropped behind, Jack Johnsons and Woolly Bears, while we had shrapnel, bombs and nasty double-acting shells which burst first with white smoke, and fifty yards further on with black smoke. We also got a good share of a shell which gave out the most beastly-smelling gases. Major B—— was wounded in the head by a bomb which burst on our parapet within a foot of my head, blowing a large hole in the parapet and covering me with earth. The explosion of it, so close, instead of deafening me seemed to clear a passage through my head from ear to ear, and I went through all the processes of death. It seemed to me I was a goner, and it was some seconds before I realized I was alive and unhurt. The brigade in our front was ordered to retire in the night, and we were told to hold their evacuated trench with pickets. I sent out a picket from my double company—they remained out until 5 A. M., when I was ordered to withdraw them.
“March 12th. They had only just come in when the Germans were seen advancing, and a fearful fusillade of rifle fire from our trenches began. After a time the firing slackened and dawn came, when in front of us were lines of dead Germans. We counted about one hundred in our immediate front—there were lots more to right and left, and the trench just evacuated in our front was thick with them. We had some very useful pistols with us, which fire a big cartridge and light up the ground in front. I fired fifteen rounds with mine to enable my men to see to fire. Only a few live Germans remained in the trench to our front, and these a British regiment turned out in an attack at 1 P. M. Their first line advanced through us, but suffered rather heavily from fire from a trench to our left front. Their second line was about to advance, and the officer in command of it jumped lip close by me and shouted ’Second line advance,’ when he dropped, shot through the head. The third line never advanced. On our right the —— Gurkhas advanced to the front trench and suddenly white flags began to appear, and after some difficulty we got our men to stop firing, and a few of the Gurkhas began sending prisoners back. In a moment both sides were standing up out of the trenches, on our side we were waving to the Germans to come in, and on their side they were waving flags and calling for us to go and fetch them—but this we could not do, as they continued to fire and we could not trust them. But the —— Gurkhas collected a lot on the right and more followed, many of them wounded, and came into our lines. About a hundred came like this, I should think. Many more would have liked to come from further to the left, but it was difficult to arrange, as they kept firing and at the same time did not trust us sufficiently to leave cover. However we got a fair bag.
“March 13th. All to-day and yesterday too we had absolute hell from enemies’ artillery. All day we lay flat against the front parapet in fear and trembling—we were very crowded in our trench as a British regiment was there too, and such crowding added of course to the casualties. The shells dropped all round us—many dropped close in front and behind, putting the fear of God into us. All this time our artillery was firing too and the noise was terrific. The men behaved absolutely splendidly and did not move from their places. At 5 P. M. we got news that we were to be relieved—we were pleased and the men bucked up at once and started chattering away. We hoped to go out at dusk, but were disappointed, as a message came to say a German counter-attack was expected, and we must remain for the time being. However I got away about 8 P. M., and reported to the Colonel, who told me to march off to billets. Off I went with my men and myself, all as happy as could be, but I only got as far as our brigade headquarters a mile away, when the General said, he was very sorry but the —— and —— Gurkhas had to stay in reserve to the brigade who had relieved us. This was a bit fat after five days and nights without any wink of sleep for any one; for we had to work all night at improving our trench and repairing it where shells had damaged it, digging graves for killed, seeing to wounded going back; and in the day it was impossible to sleep for the noise, and casualties occurring now and then, and the fear of a German attack. However there was nothing for it, so I explained the situation to my men, who I must say took it very well. I almost cried for pity at their disappointment, for they were all dead tired: in fact none of us could walk in a straight line, and they were looking forward to a good sleep and some decent food again. However they turned and marched forward again, but no sooner had I arrived than a staff officer of the other brigade came and said the —— and —— Gurkhas were no longer required—so about turn again and back we went at a snail’s pace. I halted at one place for water, as the men had been rather short of water the whole time, and I gave them an hour’s sleep by the roadside at another point.
“March 14th. It was about four miles to our billets and we got in just at dawn—our billets are near to L——. After some food they started to get some rest, but at 12 noon we had to change to another house half a mile away. Poor fellows, they have had a time, but the whole regiment has behaved splendidly and they are as cheerful as ever. Many acts of individual bravery were performed. During the attack there was a house full of Germans, but the difficulty was to get them out. One of our fellows went in and called upon all of them to surrender—and he brought out nine of them. On another occasion some of our men had to bring up ammunition along a nullah which was swept by machine-gun fire. One of the men was wounded, but another coming up behind stopped, put down the ammunition box he was carrying and dressed the wound, remaining under fire till he was killed. A Jack Johnson burst near one of our machine guns and buried every man except one, who was only buried up to the waist. He got out and dug out the others, and all were saved. Poor Major F—— was shot through the head during the German counter-attack and killed. In my own double company I had Major D—— wounded, 30 men wounded, and 9 killed. Our regimental casualties were 1 British officer killed, 2 Gurkha officers killed, and 39 rank and file killed, 3 British officers (Major B——, Major T—— and Captain S——) wounded, not seriously; 2 Gurkha officers and 170 rank and file wounded, 35 missing, probably killed or wounded. Losses in the other four regiments in the brigade were much the same. A great many of the Germans against us were found to have bullets on them with the tips snicked off with cutters, making them act like dum-dum bullets—in fact three were shot for this on the spot. Several of our wounded showed dum-dum wounds....
“You noticed perhaps that Sir John French’s despatches, after the recent fighting, thanked the Worcesters ’a second time’—and everybody does not know that the first time was at Mons. Towards the end of that battle, Sir Douglas Haig came and said he thought they couldn’t possibly hold on any longer. General French agreed reluctantly, and gave the order for a general retreat. But immediately Sir Douglas Haig came back in haste to report that the Worcesters were still holding on, and the General said, ’Then let us all hold on a little longer.’ The tide turned and the Germans retreated—and so it was that a plain little company of Worcesters saved Europe! Three separate times General French started to go and thank the Worcesters, and three times he had to turn back—he couldn’t speak for the choke in his throat....”
III
American Relief Work
At first there was some discussion as to the advisability of America’s feeding the Belgians. International law told us that it was the duty of the army occupying foreign territory to feed the civilian population. English soldiers felt that by importing foodstuffs into Belgium, America was helping the Germans. But Germany was unwilling to take upon herself this additional load, and some one had to do it. While the discussion was going on, seven million people were beginning to starve. “The hungry stomach knows no politics, and when a man is drowning, pull him out and not ascertain who threw him in.” So America came to the rescue.
After the destruction of Louvain a committee was formed in New York to collect funds for the Belgians, headed by Mr. de Forrest. His Excellency, Mr. Emmanuel Havenith, and His Eminence, Cardinal Gibbons, at once started a general movement, thinking that a comparatively small sum would be needed. The Millers’ Belief Committee, headed by Mr. Edgar in Minneapolis, was among the first to respond. My husband started the New England committee at that time.
Later, Mr. Whitlock informed Mr. Page, our Ambassador in London, of the great devastation in Belgium, as a result of which millions of people were on the verge of starvation. So a commission of Americans was formed in England, headed by Mr. Hoover, They sent Mr. Lindon W. Bates over here to organize committees throughout the United States. The British and Belgian governments promised to help, as well as the Spanish, and Germany gave permission for foodstuffs to be distributed to non-combatants in Belgium. The Spanish and American Ministers in Brussels, and their committees in other towns in Belgium, had charge of the distribution.[17]
This Commission perfected a wonderful system of shipping and of giving out the supplies. Everything was issued from the principal and branch stations of the Commission in Belgium into the hands of the “Commission Nationale Comité de Secours,” a well-organized Belgian association.
The appeal to the governors of states and to the Rockefeller Foundation met with the most generous response. The American railways and express companies for a time gave free transportation, and then coöperated to ship at reasonable prices. The Rockefeller Foundation also undertook to furnish free ocean transportation, and chartered the first ship that sailed from America with food for the Belgians, the Maesapequa, which left here November 4th and reached Rotterdam the 18th. The Foundation also contributed foodstuffs.
Throughout the winter everybody knitted madly. The unemployed were set to work at small pay making garments, and people literally took their clothes off their backs to send. Plays, concerts, lectures, moving picture shows and rummage sales took in money which was later turned into food.