My little nurses[1] are being so fine. The present Senior class of thirty-two would have been my first real class, the first I have taken all through, and they are weeping around that I am not going to be here to graduate them. But to-morrow night after chapel I am to have a heart-to-heart talk with them and I believe I can make them feel better.
May 7th, Marshal Joffre presented the American colors to the St. Louis Unit (U. S. Base Hospital) No. 21 of Washington University at the Barnes Hospital.
May 16th, These colors were consecrated at the Cathedral in a special service for the Unit.
May 17th, The Unit left St. Louis and sailed from New York on Saturday the 19th.
On board ship.
May 21, Monday.
Dearest Family:—
If only all you dear people at home could know how comfortable and happy we all are, you would not worry the slightest bit about us. Of course the danger is still here even if we don’t notice it, but everything is so serene it seems as though it couldn’t possibly touch us. The only time that one can even imagine any danger is at night when on the decks not a single particle of light can be seen, except a dark purple glow at each companion-way. All the portholes are fastened shut and all the windows of the dining-saloon are shut and shaded as soon as it begins to get dark. The main hall, or whatever the place is called, in the center of the boat where the main stairways are, is also entirely dark, so that when the doors to the deck are opened no light will shine out. We are told that we are one of a group of boats going out together although out of sight of each other, and that when we get nearer the other side we are to be convoyed by battleships. We are getting wireless directions from cruisers now, but are not sending out any messages. We had lifeboat drill this morning, with lifebelts on and each person knows to exactly what boat he or she is to go. At times like those drills there is nothing but the greatest jolliness and cheerfulness. In fact, all the time there seems to be nothing but cheerfulness and eagerness to get to work. I haven’t even heard of any apprehensiveness on the part of a single person. As one of my nurses said in her slow drawly way: “There isn’t any use worrying about the submarines. If the Germans are going to kill us, worrying isn’t going to prevent it. If the Germans do kill me, I’m going to come back and haunt the whole German army.”
Everything has gone so very smoothly from the very beginning, I really don’t see how arrangements could have been improved upon. Even the one trunk that got left behind reached the steamer in time, and the two nurses who were to join us in New York turned up exactly as scheduled and all the missing documents from the War Department came before we left and as far as I could tell, everybody had everything that she ought to have. When the gangplank was pulled up and I realized that not one of my group could get lost for at least ten days, and there were no more documents to expect by mail and no more telegrams giving more instructions, it seemed as if a great load dropped off my shoulders. It was a glorious day and the sail down the harbor was wonderful. All kinds of boats tooted and blew their whistles at us and people on ferry boats waved and cheered us. Soon after lunch, the few necessary room adjustments were made and trunks were carried to the proper rooms. Nurses had been assigned to rooms alphabetically, but a few changes seemed to make everybody happy. Some of the nurses are three in a room, but quite a lot of them are only two in a room. With the portholes screwed down there is no difference between the inside and the outside rooms. The whole Pennsylvania Unit, Base Hospital No. 10, is with us, going no one knows where, any more than we do. They seem very nice people, and the Chief Nurse is the Miss Dunlop with whom I had been corresponding about work at the American Ambulance. Miss Dunlop was in charge of the nursing at the Ambulance for some time and can give me lots of pointers about foreign service.
When we reached the St. Paul that Friday evening about 6, going directly from the train to a ferry and from the ferry to the pier, we found the other Unit on board. A committee from the Red Cross was here giving out uniforms. It took not much over an hour and a half before each nurse had received all her things and was free to go. Each one was given caps and armbands, a lovely soft cape lined with bright red flannel; a soft dark blue felt hat, with hat pins, a heavy dark brown blanket, a long heavy double-breasted, dark blue military coat and a dark blue serge dress. The whole equipment is excellent and extremely good in quality and the fit was fine, considering the way measurements had to be sent. There was a box there addressed to every single nurse, each one containing a dress and a coat. The dresses are very good looking. They have high standing collars with a little edging of white at the top and an edging of white at the cuffs. Extra edging was found in an envelope attached to each dress. There is a pleat that runs from each shoulder to the waist and a row of big black buttons follows those pleats. There is also a row of buttons up the outside of each sleeve. At the waist there is a belt and a cloth-covered buckle. The skirt has a pocket on each side and has a panel back. The effect of the whole outfit is very shipshape, though a little somber. There is no distinguishing mark for Chief Nurses, but Miss Noyes, the Chairman of the Bureau of Nursing Service, who came on from Washington to see us off, said she was going to work out some sort of a method for distinguishing the Chiefs and would let us know later what it is to be. A great many of the nurses sent back to their homes the heavy coats they had brought for the steamer. I sent mine.
All the officers and the enlisted men are having regular drill every day. I asked for some drill for the nurses too, and we began yesterday, greatly to the delight of every one, the spectators as well as those participating. We have regular setting-up exercises as well as some military formations so that we can march in decency and order when we have to. On shipboard standing on one foot and raising the other knee is apt to be accompanied with some merriment. And some of our fat doctor officers have more or less difficulty lying down flat on their stomachs and getting up very fast. But by the end of the voyage we all may be very proficient. At any rate it is awfully good for the digestion. Speaking of digestion, we are having excellent food and, as is always the way on a steamer, altogether too much of it. The dining-saloon holds us all at one sitting, which is pleasant. No. 10 takes up all of one side and No. 21 the other and the few civilian passengers sit in the middle.