The gazettes and daily papers were eagerly read, although little reliable information could be obtained. Encouraging news in the evening was usually contradicted in the morning, while reports of the most terrible atrocities; of men murdered in cold blood; of open and gross lawlessness and evil conduct, terrorized the peaceful population in the unprotected towns and villages.
Shortly after the war began letters were received from His Eminence, Card. Mercier, Archbishop of Malines, requesting the use of the schools and other locales for a military hospital to be placed at the service of the Red Cross.
Again a few days of quiet anticipation elapse, like the calm which precedes a destructive storm; while the Sisters utilize the time in the unusual occupation of changing the joyful abode of children into a fit dwelling for death and misery.
The children’s refectory was arranged for the care of wounded officers; the large reception hall was fitted up for wounded soldiers, also the three dormitories and several classrooms. One classroom became an office for chaplain and doctors. Another department became an operating room. Another was reserved for cases of contagious disease which might occur, while another room was used as a mortuary.
One Sunday morning, about the middle of August, an unusual tumult was heard on the street. The door bell was loudly rung, and a messenger admitted with news that the officers of the Belgian War Department had commanded everything within firing range of the fortress to be cleared away at once. For some time previous the soldiers had been busy cutting down the groves and all the trees in the immediate vicinity of the fortress. The poor people were given just three hours to get away with bag and baggage.
Willebroeck, a large village between Antwerp and Brussels, about two miles from the City of Boom, had increased greatly in population, wealth and manufacturing during the years of peace and prosperity which had elapsed since the last war. Thus it happened that stores, dwelling houses, farm houses, breweries, paper mills and other industries had been built up, regardless of the fortification near by, whose grass-covered walls concealed the strong masonry and heavy cannon within.
This was a terrible misfortune for about six hundred families, whose dwellings, being located within the limits prescribed, had to be leveled to the ground. Even the tombstones in the cemetery, together with all the crops, trees, haystacks, barns and everything within range of the gaping mouths of the cannon, had to be laid flat or taken away.
No wonder that the people raced to and fro that hot Sunday morning, carrying bundles, dragging wagons with household furniture and fixtures; wheeling trunks, clothing, stoves, pictures, bedding and every article that could be taken up and carried away. Tears and perspiration rolled over the cheeks of men and women, whose faces glowed from the heat and intense excitement.
Fortunately, the first message was followed by another whereby the people were allowed more time to get their personal property in safety before the work of “burning off” began. Impossible to describe how bitterly hard it was for these poor people to tear themselves away from the homes which had cost them so much toil, labor and hardship.
The new Sewing School and laundry, the Parochial School, the Girls’ Public School, the Patronage (Boys’ Catholic School), and all other large locales received the village refugees. In a short time cows, horses, chickens, coal, grain, vegetables, furniture and everything that one can well imagine filled up the schools and gardens. The cattle, unused to the change and flurry, set up a dreadful howling, which continued long into the night.