We have had a lot of perplexities to deal with, and I have needed to use continuous alertness of mind to keep up with the details. For instance, it requires five separate papers for each nurse who goes on leave, and I have had fifteen gone at a time for over two months, the group changing every day or so, and I must see that every paper is correct or something will go wrong; the Ford won’t be there to take them to the train, they won’t have the papers which enable them to get the military fare on the train, or they won’t have the proper form of request for a new serge uniform which they can order and get fitted in Paris, or they will arrive back at the station with a heavy suitcase and no way of getting home except with much difficulty; or some one won’t be scheduled to take their work in the wards, or they won’t have received their salary before they left, or they have not told at which hotel they were planning to stay, etc. etc.
Ah well, I will be a much nicer person when I get back from my leave. I am due to go on the 11th to London to be with Elizabeth M.
The present group that are on leave, at least most of them, had the experience of being in a bombed city. Ruth was there and thought it all most interesting. Their hotel was near enough to the bombed district to make the experience unforgettable, although they were not in any way alarmed or hurt.
Will Elsie please thank little Alice for her fine letter? I didn’t know that she could write so well and use such big words. I hope she will write me again soon. I am crazy about my little service flag. It is quite a curiosity here. The cold you have had over there has been far worse than ours. So far we have had only about a month of really cold weather. Some of my Jewish nurses—I have three or four—were much interested in the “Chosen People.” I am so glad that there is a chance of Dad’s getting the song-books for us. We had a great sing a week ago Sunday evening, only such hymns! regular revival ones.
It is late and I must get to bed. I do feel your love and I need it so much.
Loads and loads of love.
Feb. 10, 1918.
It is a glorious, sunny, mild, Springy day here. The patients who can walk are crawling out into the sun. Many beds have been carried out so that some of the sickest may have the benefit of the warm rays of the run. The nurses walk around with a kind of sauntering air that shows that they are able to appreciate the lovely day and the precious lack of rush. This afternoon there will be many walks. Last Sunday afternoon I had a perfect walk. We were gone from two to six-thirty, and walked miles through lovely country roads and lanes. Pussy-willows are out and bushes show budding leaves, and it feels as though Spring were really here. But we are likely to have more cold weather yet, we are told. I am on until about four-thirty. Miss Taylor is back and I am due to go to-morrow. Phil is coming down soon to play basket-ball with our officers against some Canadian officers. There is a good place to play right in front of the grand stand on the track, which is all turf. I am looking forward most eagerly to my leave. I need to see new faces for a while. Phil and I had dinner together down town a few days ago. I had many errands at the Base Cashier’s, banks, etc., and met him at our favorite rendezvous—the Cathedral; then we wandered around together, did little errands, had a nice dinner, and were back here by eight-thirty.
That evening we had a lecture in the Mess by one of our young officers—a very brilliant young fellow—on the war. He has been giving a series of talks to us. The first was on the Western front and its changes, and the second was on the Balkan States. The nurses were much interested. We are too near to be able to get any kind of a good view of the whole situation, and we have not time to hunt for it in periodicals.
We have no further word about the Vassar proposition. It would be a fearfully hard thing to leave this Unit.