A Surgeon in Arms

by R. J. Manion

But beauty in distress—and one of them was a real beauty—made him relent. They were allowed to proceed rearward after a severe reprimand and a considerable fright. A few weeks later I met the lady of the automobile in a train near Paris and she told me that she had just sent up a big box of real cigarettes—not French ones—to the officer who should have confiscated her car, but didn't. I did not inquire how she had obtained his address!

There was another occasion when a plot was hatched to duck a disagreeable officer in the artificial lake at the lower end of the grounds. Fortunately the saner heads prevailed and averted any further complications. And "it would have served the creature bally well right, for what right had he anyhow to insist so strongly on his old rules," as one of the hotheads expressed it.

It was a trifle irritating at times to have a nurse, in reply to your order to give such and such a patient massage, say that she would do it presently, as she was just going for a short tramp in the grounds. Mais, que voulez vous? as the French say with that delightful shrug. Were they not paying to be there, and should not that fact have given them some rights over those horrid rules of discipline? And we men were the same on occasions, for discipline cannot be had outside of the trained army.

But the breaches of discipline were small in comparison to the really excellent work that the hospital was carrying on, so they were overlooked, and, as they occurred only at wide intervals, they but served to give a touch of humor to the life which was monotonous enough at times. The French realized full well the sacrifices that were made daily by these aristocrats who had given up their luxurious homes, their autos, their servants and their money, to live in the servants' quarters of this old château, and to wait hand and foot upon wounded poilus, with at any moment of the day or night the chance of a shell coming through the roof and stirring things up. No praise is too high for the self-sacrificing work of these men and women, all voluntary workers and untrained in this type of labor. The women were members of the V.A.D., Voluntary Aid Detachment, which has been the target at times of coarse jibes and criticisms, spoken by those who do not know whereof they speak. I have worked with members of this corps of women workers in hospitals in England and France, and I know that, taking it all in all, their work is beyond praise, and their nobility of character beyond estimate. This is vouched for by many a lonely, hard-hit common soldier, sick in a strange land, far from his home and his loved ones.

A field telephone line ran from the château up to the rear trenches. The cases were brought out of the trenches to a sheltered spot and one of our ambulances was telephoned for. One of us medical men accompanied the ambulances on these journeys, and they were often very interesting. On one of the trips on which I accompanied the ambulance we came to a ruined village, Gury by name, from which the civilian population had been sent away. It was occupied by French soldiers not in the front line. This village had just been shelled rather heavily by the Huns, one hundred and fifty shells having been dropped into it. After the first shell, which hit one of the houses but injured no one, the soldiers took shelter in the cellars and when the smoke had cleared away, just before our arrival, it was found that the only damage done was the killing of a cow and a pigeon! The soldiers were hilariously laughing at this waste of shells. An officer showed us the remains of a brass bed in a wrecked house, saying that he had been sleeping in that when the shelling began.

We were then taken to see a battery of the famous .75's—soixante quinze—perhaps the finest field gun on the western front, with which they said they were going to pay back the Germans for their audacity. They were like so many boys at play! The guns were set up in a cavity in the ground, a roof built over them on which sod had been placed in such a manner that from enemy planes it appeared like the surrounding fields. Dugouts led down from the gun position so that the artillerymen could come up from their disturbed slumbers at a moment's notice and send across a few rounds of their death-dealing shells. Round about were laid out flower beds with the flowers forming in French the words:

Gloire aux Allies—Glory to the Allies.

Honneur aux Soixante quinze—Honor to the .75's.

Wherever man lives he must have something to care for and to love, and these flowers gave the poilus an outlet for their affection.

Every few miles away from us in all directions except the north were other hospitals of the same type as our own. One very good example, ten miles away at Fayel, was under the direction of Countess H—— G——, a cousin of King George. She came sometimes to visit some acquaintances in our institution, and I spent a very pleasant afternoon on her first visit showing her our grounds, trenches, gun positions, wire entanglements, and other things of interest. She was as kindly mannered and democratic as anyone could desire, though she was King George's cousin and wore a number of ribbons for previous service in South Africa. Since that time she has served with the Italians in Italy and has been decorated by King Victor Emmanuel.