’She was too full of her mission to make friends for herself, but although so busy she did not rush. She never had too many irons in the fire to listen to a sorrow; and the few moments she could spare you knew were all your own.’ This characteristic is laid away in scores of hearts like a sweet perfume which gives out fragrance every time it is stirred. “She took time, she always took time to listen,” whispered one of her converts looking into my face with an adoring love in her eyes that was almost anguish. The story of her wonderful deliverance, more full of romance and tragedy than any novel, may not appear here for obvious reasons.
Continuing this soldier says, ’She seemed to put the work of two lives into one. Such a brisk walk she had! People pulled themselves to attention and things began to move faster whenever she came on the scene. “This is quite a feminine little bit”–I never saw her look into a shop window! She had not time for even the innocent interests of most good women.
’She lived in the spirit of the command, “Be pitiful, be courteous.” The graciousness of her spirit always reminded me of Christ. She did not seem to understand the meaning of sarcasm.
’Her health was very frail. Whilst stationed here, she was often fighting bronchitis, but she never spoke of herself. Never even said she was tired. There was not a trace of self-pity or self-love about her.’
From many sources one hears of this continual fight with and triumph over physical weakness. A woman hall-keeper tells, ’One evening I caught her creeping like an old woman, through the dimly lighted hall, bent almost double with bronchitis. “Oh, Adjutant,” I cried, “you’re ill. You should go home to bed.” When she knew I had seen her, she steadied herself to take breath, smiled sternly, then waved me off, and presently walked briskly into her converts’ meeting.’ A lieutenant tells, ’Sometimes in the morning she looked so ill and old, and I would beg of her to let me take her breakfast to bed. But she would laugh and say, “What’s the good of giving way to feelings? I’ll be all right when I warm up to work.” Though ever a spartan to herself she was always tender in her treatment of others.’
The following extracts from an article by the late Mrs. Colonel Ewens appeared in ‘The Officer’ under the title of ‘My Ideal Field Officer.’ It indicates the high esteem in which Adjutant Lee’s Divisional Commanders held her:–
For some years now, a woman Officer who is still in the field, has been the living embodiment of my ‘Ideal Field Officer.’
I was conducting a Junior meeting at her corps when the bandmaster stepped into a side room for his instrument. I prepared to accompany him to the open-air meeting and casually remarked that the officers had gone on. ’You may trust our captain; I have never known her late,’ was the rejoinder.
Continuing he said:–
I have been in The Army for twenty years, but have never had such an eye-opener in all my experience. I tell you if ever I have felt ashamed of myself and my performances, it has been since this officer came. She’s the right woman in the right place, there’s no doubt about it. She can ‘sit on’ a fellow without crushing the life out of him. The whole band is changed. She’s just got our chaps, the thirty of them; and she’s as true and straight as a die. The beauty of her life and example beats all we have ever had. Makes you feel you must be good whether you will or not.’ This was intensely interesting to me, coming as it did so spontaneously from a man not at all in the habit of praising his Officers. After our conversation, I began to study the character and work of that unobtrusive woman.