Belinda of the Red Cross

by Robert W. Hamilton

She did hear that one of the younger members of the Lafayette Squadron was acclaimed an "ace." He had brought down the necessary number of enemy aeroplanes to receive that honorable title. Names, however, did not reach Belinda's ears.

Then there came something else to startle her ears. The boom of the great guns came nearer. Suddenly one afternoon a shell fell within the hospital enclosure.

It was a chance shot without doubt; but the explosion of the engine of destruction did as much damage as though it had been intended. The end of a ward was torn to pieces and three blessés and an orderly were killed outright. A Red Cross nurse was one of those removed from the ward and started upon an ambulance for the railroad that very night.

The order for evacuation came. All that night the ambulances rolled out with their groaning burdens for the rear. No more ambulances returning from the first-aid stations stopped at the hospital. The station must be abandoned.

All was in confusion. There were to be no cases removed this night from her ward, therefore Belinda could go home. The French wounded were to be taken out first.

The girl from America felt her assistance was just as much required by the German prisoners as by the brave Frenchmen. Three more shells fell during the night within the corporate limits of the village. She came back to the hospital early in the morning to find half the people gone and utter panic reigning.

It had seized upon many of the attendants of the hospital. Madame la Directrice had been slightly wounded by a falling timber the day before and the médecin chef had ordered her taken away despite her protestations. At once the nursing force went to pieces; for most of the nurses had depended utterly upon the strong mind and vigorous discipline of the energetic Frenchwoman.

Belinda found nobody in her ward save the prisoners. The sentinels at the doors were gone, too. Breakfast was ready and there was nobody to give it to the patients. The girl felt that her little world was fast toppling about her.

She removed her cape and bustled into her huge apron and cap. The ordinary formalities of the early morning hours must be dispensed with. First of all it was necessary for her blessés to eat.

In the midst of serving coffee and over-done eggs to the men who were able to be of some help to themselves, before taking the trays to the more helpless patients, little Erard put a very pasty-looking face in at the door.