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With fke 
 
 American AmDulance 
 
 in France 
 
 By 
 
 DR. JAMES R. JUDD 
 
 Honolulu 
 Star-Bulletin Prkss 
 
 19 19 
 
MAR 27 1919 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Preface 7 
 
 Chapter I. Honolulu to France g 
 
 Chapter II. Paris 15 
 
 Chapter III. American .\mhulance of Xeuilly-Sur-Seine.... 19 
 
 Chapter IV. The British Tommy's Story 28 
 
 Chapter V. Tlie American Am1)ulance of Juilly 32 
 
 Chapter VI. Life in tlie Ambulance .^8 
 
 Chapter VII. The Surrounding Country 4,:; 
 
 Chapter VIII. The Wounded from the Battle of Champagne 47 
 
 Chapter IX. Robert's Story 54 
 
 Chapter X. The Trials of a Medecin Chef 62 
 
 Chapter XI. Holidays and Festivals 67 
 
 Chapter XH. Senlis jt, 
 
 Chapter XII 1. The Battlefield of the Marne 79 
 
 Chapter XIV. Aviators 86 
 
 Chapter XV. Incidents and Observations 89 
 
 Chapter XVI. Fragments 96 
 
 Chapter XVII. Soldiers' Stories 104 
 
 A School Teacher's Story icg 
 
 A Foreign Legion Soldier's Story 114 
 
 Sunny Jim's Story 117 
 
 The Chasseur's Story 118 
 
 Chapter XVIII. A Trip to the Front 123 
 
 Chapter XIX. Leaving France and Home Aeain 136 
 
IL LUSTR ATIO NS 
 
 Anierit'ini Automobiles ready to go to railway stations for wounded 
 A Decoration at Neuillv . 
 
 The last three Britisli Tommies at the American AmbuUince cared for 
 
 by American nurses .• 24 
 
 After the decoration of the Zouave and his famous dog which dug 
 
 him out of an exploded mine _ 26 
 
 American Ambulance branch hospital in the College of .luilly 33 
 
 Scho(jl boys of the College of .Tuilly _ 36 
 
 A Cemetery of (Jerman dead on the battlefield of the llarne, cared 
 
 for by the French (Jovernment 45 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. .ludd with a group of poilus and nurses at .Tuilly 49 
 
 Breton peasants who have come to visit their son who is badly 
 
 wounded 53 
 
 A ward decorated for Christmas 70 
 
 (ierman ■'Kultur" at 8enlis _ _ 74 
 
 Crucifl.x ill the liosiiital at Senlis, surrounded by bullet holes made by 
 
 (ierman guns __ ._ _ 77 
 
 Where an officer and fourteen of his men are buried on the battle- 
 field of the Mariie .. _ 80 
 
 Where the (iermans burned two thousand dead at Poligny 83 
 
 American Aviators, Prince. McConnell and Kockwell. 87 
 
 Decoration of sixteen heroes from Verdun 91 
 
 A funeral procession going from the hospital to the village church 93 
 
 A soldier's burial 95 
 
 French peasants at the bedside of their wounded son 101 
 
 Before 106 
 
 After 107 
 
 The ruined village of Souain 131 
 
PREFACE 
 
 Spread over 
 the battlefield 
 of the ]Marne 
 are numerous 
 graves mark- 
 ed with white 
 crosses and 
 tiny tri-color 
 flags. Late one 
 fall afternoon 
 in 1015 a ix\is- 
 a n t woman 
 leading a litlU' 
 child by tlu 
 hand was seen 
 w a n d e rin- 
 from grave to 
 grave and 
 reading the 
 n a m e s in- 
 scribed on the 
 little w h i t r 
 crosses. T1k'\ 
 were looking 
 for the grave 
 of their sol- 
 dier husband 
 and father 
 
 who had died for his country and for us and our civiliza- 
 tion. This picture has ever remained vivid in my mind. 
 
 What is to become of the fatherless children of France? 
 Should not we Americans show our appreciation of the 
 sacrifices made by the noble French fathers by helping 
 to care for their children and so help rebuild the nation ? 
 
 This little book was written with the idea that the en- 
 tire profits of its sale will go to help the fatherless chil- 
 dren of France. The material is based on stories told 
 bv wounded in our care and on experiences as recorded 
 in home letters during the period from July 1915 to 
 October 1916 when the writer and his wife had the great 
 privilege of living with the poilus and playing a small 
 part in the great struggle for freedom. 
 
WitK 4ie American Ambulance 
 in France 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HONOLULU TO FRANCE. 
 
 When the great war began in August, 1914, there were 
 several hundred Americans in Paris. Many of them were 
 tourists, visiting Paris as part of the grand tour of the 
 continent. The others belonged to the so-called American 
 colony and because of their long residence there con- 
 sidered Paris their home. 
 
 When the Germans hacked their way through Belgium 
 and the vast horde of Huns streamed across the frontier 
 toward the heart of France, carrying death and destruc- 
 tion in their wake, somewhat of a panic developed in 
 Paris among those who were anxious to get away. 
 Crowds collected in front of the banks eager to get 
 money. Hotels and shops demanded cash payments. 
 Paper money was discounted and gold was at a premium. 
 Holders of large letters of credit suddenly found them- 
 selves poor. The train service was overtaxed and inade- 
 quate to handle the crowds, and automobiles were hired 
 at fabulous prices. Trunks were left behind in the mad 
 rush. As an illustration of the state of mind, a friend 
 told me that an excited American rushed up to him on 
 the street exclaiming, "Do you speak English? I will 
 give you $500 to get me out of Paris." 
 
 The Americans divided themselves into two classes. 
 First, there were those who were part of the crowd of 
 fugitives and resorted to every means in their power in 
 order to effect their escape. The others were those who, 
 loyal to the dictates of their moral obligation, resolved 
 to stay to the last extremity and aid the city they loved. 
 
 [9] 
 
10 With the American Ambidancc in J'raiu 
 
 Among- these last there was fortunately an organization 
 comprising the American Hospital of Paris, an aclmirahle 
 institntion, which for several years past had been main- 
 tained bv Americans. With the American Hospital as a 
 basis of nnity the American Ambulance was founded and 
 its services were offered to the French government. 
 
 On the third day of September, when the Germans were 
 at Compiegne, barely 50 miles away, the French govern- 
 ment moved to Bordeaux. The Americans were released 
 from their promised service, leaving them free to escape 
 from the investment of Paris which, at that time, seemed 
 inevitable. To the eternal honor of our fellow country- 
 men l)e it remembered that they refused to accept the 
 release from their i^romise and decided to cast their lot 
 and if necessary risk their lives with the people of Paris. 
 Then came the battle of the Marne and Paris was saved. 
 P'rom a small beginning the Ambulasice grew t.) an or- 
 ganization caring for over 1300 wounded a day and 
 maintaining more than 300 ambulances on djt\" in Paris 
 and at the front. The cost of maintaining this work has 
 been borne entirely by the American ])eo])le. 
 
 It is difficult to estimate the value of the work of the 
 American Ambulance in this war. Xo less important 
 than the material aid rendered the French wounded has 
 been the moral effect of the organization of cultivating 
 and maintaining a friendly feeling for America and every 
 worker in the .\mbulance — doctor, nurse and ambulance 
 driver — on returning to America has been an ardent 
 prosel_\te, burning with a sense of righteousness of the 
 cause of the Allies and eager for the United States to 
 take her pro])er place in the struggle. 
 
 It was to join this organization that we started for 
 France on June 12, 1915, and a few weeks later we found 
 ourselves aboard the steamship "St. Louis" leaving New 
 York harbor. A little crowd of friends was at the wharf 
 to say farewell, but there was no band or "leis." 
 
 The "St. Louis" was an old ship, steady in smooth 
 weather, l)Ut not over clean or comfortable. The label 
 
Honolulu to France. 11 
 
 "American Line" was painted in huge white letters on 
 the ship's sides. At night a cluster of electric lights with 
 a reflector was lowered over each side and so placed 
 that the letters were well illuminated. The ship was 
 crowded. Since the war the American line has come into 
 sudden popularity and consec^uently the rates have risen. 
 We had a deck stateroom for which we paid $300 plus 
 a $10 war tax. The bath was a tiny affair and a long 
 ways off in the bowels of the ship. The sanitary ar- 
 rangements left much tt) be desired. The food was fairly 
 good. There was an orchestra of five pieces which played 
 during meal time. Altogether we got on quite well and 
 had no kick coming, provided the old tub landed us 
 safely at Liverpool. W'e had provided ourselves with 
 life preserver jackets in Xew York and kept them handy. 
 The last night out, as we were in the danger zone, many 
 of the passengers camped out on deck and talked most 
 of the night. 
 
 On July 19th land appeared and at eight o'clock in 
 the evening we sailed up the Mersey and were docked at 
 Liverpool. While it was still light, we lined up in the 
 saloon, our passports were inspected and stamped by a 
 benevolent looking old gentleman and we climbed off the 
 St. Ix)uis, grateful that our voyage was safely over. 
 
 Liverpool looked as grimy and unattractive as usual. 
 It was Sunday night and everything was quiet. There 
 were no signs of war. We managed to lay in a supply 
 of newspapers, fruit and candy and an hour or so before 
 midnight we started on a special steamer train for 
 London. We sped through the dark night at a great rate 
 of speed and could not help contrasting the superiority 
 of the English railroad travel over that of the United 
 States. There were no sudden stops and jerks such as 
 one encounters unexpectedly anywhere from San Fran- 
 cisco to New York. The towns we passed through were 
 dimly lighted on account of Zeppelins. The curtains of 
 our train were drawn so that the light did not shine out. 
 At half past three in the morning we reached Euston 
 
12 //'//// the American Auibukmcc in Francc 
 
 station and a great scramble for luggage ensued. Finally 
 we extricated our baggage, piled it on a "four wheeler" 
 and hied ourselves to the Savoy Hotel. At the hotel two 
 pieces of l^aggage were found to be missing, so I dashed 
 back to the station in a taxi and found the two bags 
 safely reposing on the platform just where we had left 
 them. The station was now full of sailors who had ar- 
 rived there just after us. As I started back to the Savoy 
 several sailors tried to hail my taxi, so I stopped and told 
 them to "])ile in." The taxi was rapidly filled to its ca- 
 pacity, and those who couldn't find room on the seats, 
 sat on the steps and mud-guards. A much whiskered 
 tar. smelling of salt water and tobacco, was my seat 
 companion. He said that they were sailors of the North 
 Sea fleet and were crossing London to Victoria station 
 on their way to Portsmouth, he thought. Patrolling the 
 North Sea was bitterly cold work and they were longing 
 for the German, fleet to come out. It was then broad day- 
 light and we passed several dignified bobbies who yelled 
 at the sailors to get ofif the running boards, to which the 
 tars res|)()nded in true democratic fashion by applying 
 their thumbs to their noses and actively wiggling their 
 fingers. 
 
 London seemed very much the same as on previous 
 visits and gave one the same comfortable and home-like 
 feeling. There was a little less street traffic and fewer 
 American tourists were in evidence. A good many uni- 
 forms were to he seen on the streets, and huge posters 
 and notices calling for enlistments were prominently dis- 
 played. Tliere were recruiting stations here and there, 
 but we saw few recruits. We hunted up our favorite res- 
 taurant, the "Cheshire Cheese," and enjoyed a delicious 
 dinner of sole, chops, pigeon pie, peas and toasted cheese. 
 At the "Empire" afterwards we saw a mediocre per- 
 formance before a crowded house, with orchestra seats 
 at 10s apiece. 
 
 At the French consulate hundreds of people were ahead 
 of us waiting to get their papers. The work was .so heavy 
 
Honolulu to France. 13 
 
 that an adjoining residence was used to handle the crowd. 
 Finally after several hours waiting we received tickets 
 from the porter and when our numbers were called we 
 were allowed to enter a large living room already filled 
 with all kinds of people. Women and children composed 
 the majority of those waiting and all looked very weary. 
 Finally the numbers are called again and we proceeded 
 upstairs to a room where several ofificials were seated at 
 small tables. In turn each one of us was seated at a table 
 facing an official and subjected to an inquiry as to the 
 reasons for wishing to go to France. I showed several 
 letters which produced little effect until letters from Dr. 
 Marques, French Consul of Honolulu, stating in French 
 the object of our journey, were read. These letters were 
 like magic and our passports were given us without fur- 
 ther trouble. 
 
 At ten the next morning we left London for Folke- 
 stone. The usual charming views of rural England were 
 changed by seeing here and there training camps and 
 bodies of troops drilling in the fields. Aside from that 
 it was hard to tell that this mighty nation was at war. 
 At Folkestone we formed in line, passed through a docket 
 and our papers were examined and stamped. We were 
 then allowed to proceed aboard the channel steamer 
 "Sussex." No staterooms were to be had. so we pro- 
 cured steamer chairs and prepared for the worst of our 
 four and a half hours trip to Dieppe. There were many 
 vessels to be seen in the channel as we left the English 
 shore and several destroyers gave us a feeling of se- 
 curity. Soon we passed out of sight of land, ships and 
 destroyers and were alone. There was quite a sea and 
 the spray splashed over us sitting out on deck. The 
 weather was surprisingly cold and chilly. The steamer 
 was crowded with passengers, most of them seasick, and 
 they were not always particular to get to leeward when 
 they had to pay tribute to Neptune. I remember seeing a 
 little French cabin-boy or "mousse" trying to jjcrsuade a 
 disconsolate looking English bov that it wa^ desirable 
 
14 irith flic American Ambulance in France. 
 
 to pass his fingers down his throat. This pantomime 
 continued for some time, but the English lad either would 
 not be persuaded or felt too badly to attempt it. 
 
 The cold gray water of the channel looked very un- 
 inviting. We wondered if there were any German sub- 
 marines around and if this part of the channel was pro- 
 tected by a steel net. We were all subject to a feeling of 
 helplessness as we had at least expected an escort. That 
 our fears were not groundless was shown by subsequent 
 events when the "Sussex" was torpedoed, and this act of 
 barbarism became an international question. 
 
 A trip never seemed so slow, until finally we feasted 
 our eyes on the white cliiTs of Dieppe, which looked so 
 much like those we had left at Folkestone, as if the land 
 had been cleft and pushed apart. 
 
 At Dieppe there was the animation and vivacity of 
 conversation that one finds in a French seaport town. 
 Once again we were herded into line and our papers ex- 
 amined and stamped. But nothing mattered now. We 
 were on the beloved soil of France again. 
 
 .\ sur])risingiy good train carried us to Paris in three 
 hours. While we enjoyed an excellent table d'hote din- 
 ner for five francs, we looked out of the car windows at 
 the ])eaceful Normandy country and could not realize 
 that the most terrible warfare the world has ever seen 
 was in j^rogress a few miles away. 
 
 x\t the Paris station we were delighted to find that our 
 baggage had come through with us. and taking it along 
 in our fiacre we were soon comfortably settled at the 
 splendid Edouard \1I hotel. 
 
Paris. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 PARIS. 
 
 How thrilling, almost magical after a good sleep to 
 wake up in Paris, stroll out on the boulevards, rub one's 
 eyes and realize that we are really there ! The weather 
 was delightful for midsummer, a temperature of 70° 
 with clear sunny skies. Beautiful flowers were grouped 
 for sale at the street corners. We recognized our old 
 friends the Opera, Cafe de la Paix, the Madeleine and 
 the Place de la Concorde at the end of the rue Royale. 
 
 Even in Paris it is hard to realize that war is at hand. 
 There are soldiers to be seen here and there. Some of 
 them are crippled, walking with crutches or have band- 
 ages on their heads. There are a good many women 
 in mourning. Nearly all the shops are open and the 
 larger magasins like the Lafayette and Printemps. are 
 crowded with shoppers. The restaurants are well filled 
 with patrons and there is the same long menu of delicious 
 food with apparently little elevation of prices. We no- 
 ticed only that the Grand \'atel and Tour d'Argent are 
 closed. The Louvre is closed but a part of the Luxem- 
 burg is open, also the Musee Carnavalet. The big, 
 noisy busses are no more. This is not a matter of regret 
 as they are doing useful work at the front transporting 
 troops. Women do men's work as conductors on the 
 trains and metro, driving fiacres and cleaning streets. 1 
 have never seen the streets of Paris so clean. The banks 
 close from twelve to two on account of the lack of em- 
 ployees and many of the stores do the same. There are 
 crowds of people sitting out on the sidewalks of the 
 cafes in the delightful Paris fashion. At ten o'clock the 
 cafes close and no music is allowed in any restaurants. 
 
 At night one notices a great difiference from the I^aris 
 of peace times. The night life of Montmarte is no more. 
 The Dal Pouiller. Moulin Rouge and other places from 
 which Americans have gained erroneous ideas of French 
 
16 Wif/i the American Aiiibiilaiicc in France 
 
 life and character, are closed. The streets are quite dark 
 but not as dark as we found them in London. The dark- 
 ening- of the streets is for two reasons. First as a pre- 
 caution against Zeppelin raids, and second, as a matter of 
 economy. Most of the theatres are running, but grand 
 opera will not be attempted. On a Sunday afternoon 
 we had a four hours' musical treat at the Opera Comique. 
 Charpentier's "Louise" was given admirably. The house 
 was crowded, many of the audience being soldiers and 
 some of them convalescents with their arni- hi slings or 
 their heads bandaged. It was pathetic to see a number 
 of blind soldiers in the audience. At the end of the per- 
 formance Madame Chenal sang the soul-stirring "^lar- 
 seillaise" with the audience standing. W'e could feel 
 thrills run up and down our backs. 
 
 Although nuisic is forbidden in cafes and restaurants, 
 yet the government thinks that good music is a beneiicial 
 tonic for the people, and there are fine concerts in the 
 Tuilleries and Luxembourg gardens. Soldiers attend 
 these concerts in large numbers and the music receives 
 much appreciation as shown by the attention and ap- 
 plause. 
 
 On bright sunny afternoons we enjoyed sitting out on 
 the sidewalk of the Cafe de la Paix and watching the 
 crowds pass by. War does not prevent the Parisians 
 from enjoying this pleasure, and although there are many 
 uniforms and some mutiles to be seen, it is hard to realize 
 that men are being killed barely fifty miles away. 
 
 With all the losses and sufifering France has eiKhu'ed 
 there is no depression, but a smiling philosophical attitude 
 is apparent on all sides. Truly it takes a war to show a 
 nation's real character. 
 
 We heard an interesting spy story the other day. A 
 French girl who had lived in Alsace and kne\. the Ger- 
 man language stepped on a man's foot as sh? was enter- 
 ing the ]\Ietro. The man was dressed as an English of- 
 ficer and to her surprise he swore a German oath. She 
 resolved to follow him, so got ofif when he did and reported 
 
Paris. 17 
 
 him to a gendarme, who shrugged his shoulders and 
 wouldn't do anything. She then foHowed him to a house 
 and noting the address, sped to the nearest poHce station. 
 The house was quickly raided and not only was the spu- 
 rious English officer caught but two other spies and a 
 quantity of incriminating papers. 
 
 Genuany had the most complete spy system the world 
 has ever seen. Not only was Paris well covered but the 
 country towns and villages as well. The authorities have 
 warned the people to be on their guard by attaching no- 
 tices in public places "Taisez-vous. Mefiez-vous. Les 
 oreilles d'ennemis vous ecoutent." This warning was not 
 taken very seriously and was a fav: rite theme f( r jest at 
 the theatres. 
 
 One of the chief topics of conversation is, "W'lien will 
 the war end ?" Great things are always expected of the 
 offensive "next year," after the bad winter weather is 
 over. There is some talk of the pinch of starvation in 
 Germany and the possibilities of a revolution. It seems 
 that thinking people do not take much stock in these 
 ideas. 
 
 The starvation of Germany is counter-balanced by 
 Germany's food economies and her increased agricul- 
 tural acquisitions in Belgium, Northern France. Poland 
 and Servia. Thousands of prisoners' furnish much of 
 the agricultural labor. A revolution is discredited be- 
 cause the great mass of the German people have been 
 taught and trained that the government should do their 
 thinking for them. No. the war will be brought to an end 
 by military superiority, and that means a long and bloody 
 conflict. The battle of the Marne saved Paris, saved 
 France, saved civilization. The noble Belgian defense, 
 the heroism of the French soldier and "the contemptible 
 little British army" at the battle of the Marne crumpled 
 up Germany's plan of world conquest right at the start. 
 But without England's aid France would have been 
 paralyzed with most of her coal and iron mines in the 
 hands of the enemy. After the battle of the Marne 
 
18 liltJi the American Ainhnkince in France. 
 
 France's task was stupendous — to hold l^ack the long 
 battle hue until British troops could be trained and take 
 over a powerful position. This could never have been 
 accomplished without the superiority of the liritish navy. 
 
 Germany launched a tremendous attack at \'erdun, 
 planning- to lieat her way throug-h by main force. Those 
 weeks and months of strug-gle were anxious days in 
 France. When news of the terrible slaughter became 
 generally known, there were questions among the civil- 
 ians: "Why don't they give up \'erdun and let the Ger- 
 mans have it? It isn't worth all the slaughter." "No," 
 the French soldier said "lis ne passeront pas." "Why 
 don't the English start an otTensive to relieve the pressure 
 on WM-dun?"" "Don't you know the English are not 
 ready yet and they are carrying out JoiTre's plan? They 
 will attack when the right time comes." \\> often 
 thought that the idea that the French were being sacri- 
 ficed at X'erdun. while the iiritish were inactive was part 
 of the subtle German propaganda. 
 
 We ke]it wondering what the I'nited States was go- 
 ing to do in this great world mix-u]). We came to France 
 with the idea that this was a Eurojx'an war, the breaking 
 of treaties and invasion of territory, far apart from 
 America. We were not long in France before we dis- 
 covered that the Allies were fighting for the very prin- 
 ciples on which the foundations of our liberty rest and 
 that there could be no such thing as neutrality of heart. 
 .\ German victory in Europe meant America as the next 
 victim in the world conquest. The Americans whom we 
 have talked with think that our country has played an 
 ignoble part thus far. We have made money out of the 
 war, lots of it, and have sent back very little in compari- 
 son to our gains. P.ut there is a feeling of confidence that 
 the time will come when America will see that the Allies 
 are fighting our Ixittles and that the I'nited States will 
 take her place in the struggle for democracy. 
 
The American Ambulance of Nenilly-Sur-Seinc. 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE AMERICAN AMBULANCE OF NEUILLY- 
 SUR-SEINE. 
 
 Going up the Champs Elysees, past the Arc de Tri- 
 omphe and along the Avenue des Grandes Arniees one 
 comes to the Porte Maillot. Passing through this gate 
 one enters the suburb of Neuilly and is now officially out 
 of Paris. As the taxi drivers can claim an extra rate 
 of fare after passing through the gate, we used to pay 
 ofif the driver at the gate, walk through and take another 
 taxi to drive to the Ambulance. That was in the early 
 days. Later on we learned to economize by going on 
 the tram or metro for 30 centimes. 
 
 At the beginning of the war a splendid new school 
 building, the Lycee Pasteur, was reaching completion. 
 The Board of Governors of the American Hospital in 
 Paris ofifered to the French government to maintain a 
 hospital for the care of wounded soldiers for the dura- 
 tion of the war, and this building was assigned to them. 
 It should not be forgotten that in the war of 1870 the 
 Americans of Paris organized and maintained an Amer- 
 ican ambulance which rendered valuable service. 
 
 r)y completing the equipment and installing the neces- 
 sary hospital furniture, it was found that the Lycee Pas- 
 teur lended itself admirably for the purpose of a hospital. 
 The construction of the building with plenty of windows, 
 splendid lighting and ventilation rendered it an ideal hos- 
 pital building, and it is doubtful if among the 4,000 or 
 more war hospitals in France, there is a finer institu- 
 tion. There are accommodations for 600 patients in 
 round numbers with large wards and small wards for 
 officers and special cases. A number of the wards are 
 maintained by contributions from different cities and 
 states, and this fact is designated by names over the door- 
 ways — New York, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Vir- 
 
The American Ambulance of Neuilly-Siir-Seine. 21 
 
 ginia, Rhode Island and others are there. W'Q hope there 
 will be a "Hawaii Ward" some day. 
 
 The Ambulance Committee consists of : 
 
 Capt. Frank H. Mason, Chairman. 
 
 Robert Bacon. 
 
 Lawrence V. Benet. 
 
 Dr. C. W. Du Bouchet. 
 
 F. W. Monahan. 
 
 L. V. Twyeffort. 
 
 Mrs. W. K. Vanderbilt. 
 
 Mrs. H. P. Whitney. 
 
 The surgical staff of about thirty doctors are almost 
 all volunteers from America, and some of our most fa- 
 mous surgeons have served there. Among" them are Drs. 
 Blake, Hutchinson, Harte, Powers. IMurphv, Cushing" and 
 Crilc. 
 
 The dental department, organized by Dr. Hayes and 
 ably conducted by volunteer American dentists, has done 
 splendid work, especially in restoration of shattered jaws. 
 
 The nursing staff consists of about 90 trained nurses, 
 most of whom have come from America. There are a 
 large number of auxiliary nurses under the able direc- 
 tion of Mrs. George Munroe. 
 
 The orderly work is done by volunteers, business men. 
 artists, dilitantes, Rhodes scholars from Oxford and 
 others. 
 
 A useful feature of the ambulance is the transportation 
 service. A large number of cars are ready day or night 
 to go the Gare la Chapelle, receive loads of wounded and 
 transport them to hospitals designated by the authorities. 
 
 The Field Service sections stationed at different parts 
 of the front render valuable service to the French and 
 have transported over 400,000 wounded. This part of the 
 ambulance service is ably directed by A. Piatt Andrews, 
 formerly assistant treasurer of the United States. 
 
 On my first visit to the hospital I hunted up ni}- for- 
 mer teacher. Dr. Blake, and found him making "rounds." 
 He gave me a cordial welcome and upon my asking for 
 
'I he American Ambulance of X cuiUy-Sur-Scinc. ZZ 
 
 work, said that there was plenty of it and that he would 
 be glad to have me join his staff. 
 
 The first sensation of a civilian doctor on starting- to 
 work in a ward of French soldiers is one of bewilder- 
 ment. There is a mass of wooden frames, pulleys and 
 weights holding shattered bones in comfortable positions. 
 The awful looking wounds make one wonder how a man 
 ever survived such an injury and then how will it be 
 possible to save these shattered limbs. At once one is 
 impressed by the courage, cheerfulness and patience of 
 the French soldier. Some are mere peasant boys of 18 
 to 20, others are educated men, merchants, school teach- 
 ers, law and medical students. The majority are coun- 
 try boys, sons of the soil. They all expect to get well 
 and most of them do. The worst cases are kc])t out on 
 porches, where they have the benefit of the fresh air and 
 sunshine. 
 
 At present all the patients are "old cases" and the op- 
 erations performed are for the removal of pieces of shell 
 and dead splinters of bone. The patients are carefully 
 X-rayed and the jiieccs of shell located. Then there is an 
 electrical apparatus invented by Professor liergonie of 
 Bordeaux by means of which one can feel a piece of 
 shell vibrating in the flesh. Even with these aids the 
 pieces of shell are very elusive and sometimes surpris- 
 ingly difficult to find. The work consists of morning- 
 rounds with Dr. lUake, afterwards operations if there are 
 any to l)e done and then the dressings. 
 
 L. has been assigned to a small ward, where she makes 
 beds, helps at the "pansements," takes temperatures and 
 pulses, helps with the meals and in many other ways. 
 She looks real business-like in her French Red Cross 
 uniform and enjoys the work thoroughly. 
 
 The food served to the wounded is very good and the 
 blesses are very appreciative of what is done for them. 
 The approximate cost of maintaining the hospital is 
 $1,000.00 a day. and this is entirely a matter of subscrip- 
 tion. 
 
Tlic American Ambulanc e of NeniUy-Sur-Seine 25 
 
 In order to economize time we moved to a small villa 
 near the hospital, kept by the head waiter of the Ritz. 
 He is an Italian and speaks several languages and sets a 
 g-ood table. We have our coffee in our room at 7 a. m., 
 and are at the hospital at 8 o'clock. We have lunch in 
 the basement of the hospital with a crowd of 200, com- 
 posed of doctors, nurses, auxiliaries, ambulance drivers 
 and personnel and the noise is like that of a boiler fac- 
 tory. However, everyone seems to have a good appetite 
 and to be in good spirits. At night we are too tired to 
 go out, so dine at the A'illa for 3 francs. For sixty cents 
 or less, as a franc is worth al)out 18 cents, we have a 
 delicious meal and the enemy barely 50 miles away. 
 Fancy getting any such meal in New York for 60 cents! 
 It can't be that the food itself is so much superior, but 
 it is the art in cooking it. in which the French excel. 
 
 It's a wonder that the blesses after the terrible expe- 
 riences they have ])een through are not more nervous. 
 With a few exceptions they are calm and patient. One 
 of our men lay badly wounded under a pile of dead men 
 for thirteen hours before he was rescued. The soldiers 
 say that the German line with its concrete fortifications 
 and heavy artillery is too strong to break through. 
 
 One of our patients was a boy of seventeen who ran 
 away to the army as he was too young to be called. He 
 was recovering from a wound of the abdomen and wrote 
 a verse of poetry for me which he entitled : 
 
 En Souvenir de ma Reconnaissance. 
 (Poeme, Sans Pretentions) 
 and concluded the poem as follows : 
 
 \ ers vous Americains amis si precieux 
 
 Des bons soins que dans votre hopital j'ai recjus 
 
 Je me souviendrai durant toute ma vie 
 
 Dites-moi? Comment voulez-vous que j'oublie? 
 
 Mais je ne veux pas donner de details menus 
 
 Ma reconnaissance vers vous s'envole 
 
 Semblable a un leger oiseau frivole. 
 
The American Auibulance of NciiiUy-Snr-Seine. 27 
 
 Charmant petit oiseau, s'echappant du fond du coeur 
 Vous souhaitant pour toujours joie et bonhcur. 
 
 In parenthesis he wrote in English : "Excuse my writ- 
 ing- because I am in the bed." 
 
 A present je suis sauve et dans ce petit coin (hi nou- 
 veau monde transporte dans notre chere France. Je suis 
 soigne admirablement, jamais je n'oubherai le devoue- 
 ment dont font preuve Infirmiers et Infirmieres. Leur 
 souvenirs restera toujours grave dans ma mcmoire. Vive 
 la France ! Mve les Americains ! 
 
 A big- tile-layer from ^lontreal responded to the call 
 of France and is now recovering from a bad wound of 
 the arm. He enjoys talking English and acting as inter- 
 preter for the nurses. A dapper little soldier lived several 
 years in New Orleans, speaks ]jerfect English and seems 
 glad to be among Americans. 
 
 There is a Zouave in the ward who has lost a leg and 
 hobbles around on crutches. 1 le owns a fine setter dog 
 which is the only animal pet of the hospital. The dog 
 was at the front with his master when the Germans ex- 
 ploded a mine under a section of trench. Fortunately 
 the dog was somewhat in the rear in the vicinity of a field 
 kitchen and had the opportunity of saving his master's 
 life. As soon as the explosion occurred the setter ran 
 up and. after digging furiously awhile, hauled the Zouave 
 out of a pile of earth. The soldier was unconscious and 
 had a leg badly mangled but survived his injuries. The 
 dog became a great favorite at the hospital and when the 
 Zouave was decorated, the setter received a special 
 ribbon. 
 
 In the wards are three British Tommies, all that are 
 left of the liritish wounded brought to the amlndance 
 after the battle of the Aisne. One of them was in the 
 retreat from Mons and gave me a graphic account of 
 those terrible davs. 
 
28 JJlth the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE BRITISH TOMMY'S STORY. 
 
 After serviiii^- nine years in India and Burma, my time 
 expired on the third of June, 1914, leaving me three 
 years to serve on the reserve. I was just beginning to 
 enjoy civil life when suddenly, which everyone knows, 
 England declared war on Germany on the fourth of 
 August. Of course, that meant I had to be called to the 
 colors again. I reported at my depot as soon as pos- 
 sible. I was equipped and sent over to France and, on 
 about the fourteenth of August, I disembarked at Saint 
 Nazaire. I stayed there two days then went to join my 
 regiment in Belgium. I was not there very 1 Mig before 
 I found out it was no joke but we held our own pretty 
 well until the twenty-sixth of August. We were at Mons 
 at the time and were forced to retire. They were all 
 over us. \\'ell. we started off with the enemy at our 
 backs and I never had such an experience in my life. 
 The enemy was easily eight times our strength, so all we 
 could do was to keep tracking along and they were mow- 
 ing us down like sheep all the time. We were wonder- 
 ing why we could not retaliate and make a fight of it but 
 all we could get from our commanders was 'keep going.' 
 True, we had very little artillery and I am sure we would 
 have been slaughtered had we tried to make a stand. 
 \\'ell, we obeyed our command. We were marching along 
 in our sleep at times. We were doing over thirty miles 
 some days. ()f course, we were marching through the 
 night as well. \'ery little rest we got. As soon as we 
 did halt we could hardly get time for a rest before the 
 enemy was shelling us again and we had to make an- 
 other move. 
 
 Al)out the worst part of the retirement I witnessed 
 happened to my regiment at a place called Meaux. This 
 was on about the seventh day, I believe it was the third 
 of September. We had been marching all night and this 
 
TJic British Tommy's Story. 29 
 
 was about 6 a. m. We came across what we thought was 
 a French outpost. Our colonel questioned them and they 
 reported "all clear" so he looked for a likely place to halt 
 us so that we could get a little snack which we were badly 
 in need of. At last we came across a large plot of open 
 ground with a nullah in it. We marched into this nul- 
 lah. I^p to now my regiment had been very fortunate. 
 We had just been reinforced and were about 1,200 strong. 
 Our colonel gave us orders to pile arms and take off our 
 equipment. In less than ten minutes after we had done 
 so, a shower of bullets came in to us. We were sur- 
 rounded by Maxims from the top of the nullah and no 
 way out of it only to fly, which we did, most men leaving 
 their arms behind, but not only that, we left over 700 
 dead and wounded, all in a few minutes. But for the 
 Irish Fusiliers, who were on our left, we would have 
 lost more as they kept the enemy at bay until we got 
 under cover, when what was left of us got together 
 again. We did not amount to 500. and there were not 
 200 of us armed and we also lost our Maxims. The 
 outpost we took for French was a German outpost in 
 French uniforms. Tricky dogs ! 
 
 The next day all the brigades got together, and it was 
 the same old thing. Retire. Retire. This was. I think, 
 about the ninth day of it and I am sure every man in the 
 British army was cribbing, as a soldier always does. 
 They were all saying, "When are we going to turn 
 around and get a smack at them?" 
 
 That night General French visited our brigade, and 
 no doubt he visited the other brigades as well, for he 
 must have heard about the discontent among his troops, 
 and he said, "Men, if you will only finish this march, 
 which you must do, it will last through the night, and 
 tomorrow I will promise you a fight." There was not a 
 man who did not cheer him, and every man marched all 
 night with a good heart. 
 
 At daybreak the following morning we were seventeen 
 miles from Paris, but little we knew that then. General 
 
30 JVith the American Ainbulaiice in France. 
 
 French was as good as his word. We got a fight that 
 day. We turned about and, thank God, the retreat was 
 over. Then it became our turn. We started to advance 
 and we gave them something for their money. We never 
 left them alone. We would not give them time for wind. 
 We let them see that we were made of better stufif than 
 tliey were. They were surrendering by thousands, coiu- 
 ])letely fagged out and we were shelling them now, mow- 
 ing them down worse than they did us, and we were cap- 
 turing guns and ammunition galore. We kept them on 
 the run until we got to the Marne, where they turned 
 around to make a fight. Just what we wanted. This 
 was, I think, the tenth or eleventh of September. The 
 battle lasted two days and we didn't half give them some- 
 thing. We popped them off as fast as the clock could 
 tick at times. At last they were forced to retire. As fast 
 as the}' retired we followed them up until night came, 
 and we had a good night's rest without being disturbed. 
 
 We started next morning straight into action. My 
 regiment got some hand to hand fighting this day in a 
 village. We got in close quarters with the bayonet and 
 we let them feel it. We captured the village and many 
 prisoners and also left a few hundred dead there. Then 
 \ve came to the Aisne. Here they held us in check a few 
 hours until word came that we must cross the bridge to- 
 (la\- at all costs. We did, but not without great loss. 
 This was at midday (jn the thirteenth of September. The 
 remainder of that day there was heavy cannonading on 
 l)oth sides, but we held our position, which had cost us 
 dearly. 
 
 We were now in Soissons. That night my regiment 
 was on outpost duty and it was jjouring heavens hard 
 with rain and we laid out in the open. We were like 
 drowned rats next morning when we got relieved, but 
 we got a nice day's rest, for we had got a good position. 
 We were in a long deep nullah out of sight from the 
 enemv and it was only about twelve feet wide. They 
 would have to be very accurate if they wanted to drop 
 
The British Tommy's Story. 31 
 
 a shell in it. The Germans were shelling us very heavy 
 all that (lay and our side hardly ever fired a round, only 
 now and again the artillery would fire one. We won- 
 dered what the matter was, but we fotmd out later we 
 were short of ammunition. That is why we could not 
 advance any further. 
 
 The enemy's shells were flying- over our heads and 
 dropping short all that day. Ixit they could not hit our 
 mark. We got so used to them we took no notice of them 
 at the finish. Night time came and the shelling ceased, 
 but as soon as daybreak came the shelling started again. 
 Still we took no notice, until about midday an enemy 
 aeroplane hovered over us for about half an hour and 
 then returned to his own line, and soon a shell dropped 
 straight into the nullah. I got it along with five others 
 wounded and one killed. One of the wounded was my 
 captain. I lay there only about ten minutes, then I was 
 picked up by our stretcher bearers and carried to an old 
 church about a quarter of a mile away. There 1 saw 
 my captain. He was laid ne.xt to me. We got our 
 wounds attended to and stayed there until midnight, and 
 all the time we were there the enemy were shelling the 
 church. Luckily we got away without further injury. 
 They dared not move us in the day time because we had 
 to cross the bridge again, and the enemy had the range 
 on it. We were moved at midnight and went away in 
 ambulance wagons to another dressing station, then, after 
 being dressed, we left there at once in motor wagons 
 and arrived at another dressing station, where "our 
 wounds were dressed again and we were taken to the 
 railway station. We were placed in cattle trucks and 
 then we started on our journey. We traveled all night 
 and until noon the next day. Then they took us fn^m the 
 cattle trucks and placed us on a railway platform, and 
 it was to my delight for I never experienced such a ride 
 in my life. I expected to arrive at Paris in pieces. They 
 gave us a good feed, then the doctor came round and 
 picked out the worst cases and told us we were to l;e 
 
Z2 With the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 taken to the American Ambulance, which was about ten 
 miles from the station. 
 
 W^e were placed in ambulance cars at once. Here again 
 I saw my captain. He was put in the same car as my- 
 self, and we had a good chat together. We arrived at 
 the hospital about 4 p. m. I was taken to a nice clean 
 bed, bathed aiid made as comfortable as possible, and 
 I am sure there is not a hospital anywhere wdiere a 
 wounded man could oret better attended to. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE AMERICAN AMIU'EAXCE OF jriLLV. 
 
 ^\'hat a change to be transferred from the great 
 bustling city of Paris to this quiet little village of Juilly 
 Although but 2Z miles distant from Paris, yet it took r 
 two hours to make the tri]) from the Care du Xord t( 
 the tiny station of St. Aiard. .Xumerous troo]) trruiis 
 having the right of way delayed the passenger traffic, as 
 they do all over that part of France where there is mili- 
 tary activity. American w^orkers at Neuilly, in France 
 for the first time in their lives, have difificulty in making 
 fellow-mortals understand tlieir pronunciation of the 
 word Xenilly. The word Juilly exacts an equal number 
 of variations in j^ronunciation. l'erhai)s there are no 
 two names in iM-ench geograjjliv liarder to ])ronounce 
 correctly and, curiousl}- enough, these two ])laces were 
 chosen for the two h()s])itals of the American Ambu- 
 lance. One of our doctors who had just arrived from 
 America took the wrong trains in Paris and found him- 
 self at Meaux. It was a rainy night, he was carrying a 
 heavy suit-case and he did not know a word of French. 
 He wandered around trying to find someone wdio could 
 understand his pronunciation of Juilly. After trying 
 W'ithout success every combination of sound that he could 
 think of he was alx)ut to conclude that the place did not 
 
77a' .-iuwricaii Aiiibulaiicc branch hospital in the Collc^^c of Jitilly. 
 
34 IVitli the American Atnbulance in France. 
 
 exist, when he thought of writing the name on a piece 
 of paper. 
 
 When Mrs. H. P. Whitney, in December, 1914, offered 
 to equip and maintain a hospital for French wounded 
 soldiers, several locations were offered by the govern- 
 ment and the college of Juilly was finally chosen. The 
 institution lies between two main railways running 
 toward the battle line, and at that time was considered 
 quite near the front. If you look at a map of France you 
 will not in all probability find Juilly, as it is a village of 
 only some 400 inhabitants. The name Juilly is derived 
 from Julius, and it is thought that at one time Julius 
 Caesar had a camp there. At any rate, we know that 
 the Romans invaded this part of Gaul and in the College 
 Park is a splendid Roman wine jar which has been un- 
 earthed and mounted on a pedestal at the end of an ave- 
 nue of elm trees. 
 
 The College was founded in 1630 by the Oratorians 
 and w^as made a royal academy by Louis XIII. Some 
 famous men have been students here, as Villars, d'Artag- 
 nan, IMontesquieu, Norfolk, Howard d'Arundel and 
 Jerome Napoleon. The great Napoleon came here once 
 to see his brother Jerome and the room where he slept 
 is pointed out to visitors, also a framed letter on the wall 
 in which Napoleon gives his brother good advice as to 
 his school behavior. 
 
 It was not a new experience for the College to re- 
 ceive wounded soldiers, for it was used as a hospital 
 both in the wars of the French revolution and in the 
 Franco-Prussian war. At the battle of the Marne 500 
 wounded were brought here and covered the floors of 
 the corridors, and German prisoners were locked up in 
 a room which was afterwards used as our kitchen. 
 
 The buildings are a sturdy pile of three storied stone 
 structures with little pretense to architectural merit. Only 
 the northeast wing and the college theatre are used for 
 the wounded with accommodations for 220. The rest of the 
 college is intact and instruction of the youth of France 
 
TJic American Afiibnlancc of Jiiilly. 
 
 continues as in the times of peace. One of the charming- 
 features of the place is the park in the rear of the build- 
 ings. Here are wide lawns, beautiful avenues of elm 
 trees and a small lake, the home of snow-white swans. 
 
 The Americans early in 1915 had a busy time of it 
 converting the old stone building with walls four feet or 
 more in thickness and devoid of all plumbing, into a 
 building of modern hospital requirements. Workmen 
 were mobilized with the army, and it was with the great- 
 est difficulty that men could be obtained to install the 
 plumbing, heating and electric lighting systems. All the 
 material had to be assembled in Paris and hauled out in 
 trucks, some of the hauls requiring two days. The spring 
 of St. Genevieve was tapped and water pumped to cist- 
 erns on the roof. Electricity was brought from a one- 
 horse concern at the village of St. Mard, about two miles 
 away. A central heating plant and sewer system were 
 installed and the necessary equipment of an up-to-date 
 hospital completed. 
 
 The little village is a quaint afifair as are most French 
 villages. There is the town square lined with linden trees 
 in front of the college and across the square is the village 
 church. There is of course the Mairie and Tficole des 
 Garcons et I'ficole des Filles. The mayor is a well pre- 
 served man of sturdy stock whose only son is in the 
 trenches. The mayor's wife is a sweet, admirable woman 
 living in constant dread of hearing bad news about her 
 son. Yet she would not have him back in safety, as she 
 knows he is fighting for France and for her loved ones. 
 We, in America, have too little thought of the noble 
 French women who are on their knees every day praying 
 that the bitter cup may pass them by, but meeting their 
 sorrow with wonderful resignation if this prayer is de- 
 nied them. 
 
 There are a few stores selling general merchandise, 
 the butcher shop, the pork shop (always a separate insti- 
 tution in France), little fruit, tobacco and newspaper 
 shops and several estaminets or wine shops. The post 
 
TJic American Antbiilaiicc of Jnilly. 37 
 
 office and telephone are directed by two or three intelH- 
 gent women. Mail is delivered from Juilly to surround- 
 ing hamlets and is carried by a young widow. In good 
 weather she rides a bicycle, but in bad weather she does 
 her ten miles a day on foot. Her husband was killed 
 in the battle of the Marne, leaving her with a young 
 child, alone and unprovided. "Yes," she says, "life is 
 hard. I am left a widow with a young child, but my 
 husband died for France and that means that he died de- 
 fending me and my son and the other women and chil- 
 dren of France." She never complains as she trudges 
 along the muddy roads in the rain, and she always has a 
 cheerful smile for the Americans. 
 
 There are two shoemakers, the tile-roof man and the 
 village carpenter and blacksmith. The last two are ex- 
 pert artisans and are of great service to the Ambulance. 
 Of inns there are none at all. The village is too small to 
 support one. Likewise with the gendarmes. There is 
 an antiquated garde champetre who fixes official notices 
 on the ]\Iairie and at times goes through the streets ring- 
 ing a bell and reading governmental announcements. 
 
 The hospital is glad to get village help for the laundry 
 and kitchen but with so much work to be done in their 
 homes it is difficult to get women workers. However, 
 there are over fifty women from Juilly and surroimding 
 villages who work in the laundry and kitchen, and act as 
 ward maids and scrub women. 
 
 The staff consists of a varying number of doctors, most 
 of them Americans, twenty to twenty-five trained nurses, 
 several auxiliary nurses and some volunteer orderlies. 
 There is an automobile ambulance section attached to 
 the hospital. Most of the drivers are young men from 
 the United States and they drive Ford cars which are 
 fitted to carry three lying-down patients or couches. 
 
 For some months the wounded were received from 
 Compiegne, which is about seven miles from the trenches. 
 This made a run of about thirty miles in ambulances 
 which was too severe for badly wounded men, especially 
 
5i With the AmcricaJi Ambulance in France. 
 
 in bad weather. Besides that, the possibiHty of the hos- 
 pital being kept full of patients depended on the activity 
 of that section of the line and when there were few or 
 no engagements there were no wounded to be had. 
 Later on a different arrangement was made whereby the 
 hospital, although geographically in the Zone des Armees, 
 was included in the Camp Retranche de Paris. This 
 system was nuich more advantageous, as wounded were 
 received from along the battle line from Verdun to the 
 Somme. 
 
 The guns at the front can be heard every day at Juilly. 
 Our first great sensation in the war zone was an inde- 
 scribable thrill when we heard the cannon booming in 
 the distance towards Soissons. The sound, now louder 
 now fainter, when heard for the first time cannot fail 
 to make an impression. This voice of death blown by the 
 winds over the fields and ruined villages of France brings 
 a consciousness of the reality of war as does no other 
 sound. To one who has not heard it, the sensation can- 
 not be imparted. To one who has heard it, the memory 
 will never be foro-otten. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LIFE IN THE AMBULANCE. 
 
 We find at once a great difference between the living 
 here and at Neuilly. At Neuilly, while of course the pa- 
 tients were French, yet it was essentially an American 
 hospital and English was spoken freely. Here we live 
 in much more intimacy with the French and a speaking 
 knowledge of the language is essential if one wants to 
 be of the greatest service. Accordingly we looked around 
 for a teacher and found that the housekeeper's daugh- 
 ter gave lessons. She was a buxom French girl of 19 
 with a perfect American accent. 
 
Life ill the Ambulance. 39 
 
 "Where did you learn to speak English so well?" we 
 asked her. 
 
 "Oh, I went to school in America for eight months." 
 
 "In what part of America were you?" 
 
 "I was in Honolulu at the Punahou School." 
 
 Then she told us how her parents had taken her some 
 years before to Australia and not wanting to stay there 
 decided to return to France by way of America. They 
 had stopped off at Honolulu, where she had gone to 
 school and although since then she had not had much 
 opportunity to practise speaking English she had never 
 forgotten what she had learned. 
 
 Our bedroom is across the hall from one of the large 
 wards and was formerly one of the professor's rooms. 
 It is convenient to be so near the blesses, as when one is 
 called at night for a hemorrhage, it doesn't take long to 
 get there. 
 
 The daily routine is as follows. Breakfast of cafe au 
 lait, toast and eggs at 7 a. m. We drink our cofifee out 
 of bowls to save crockery and eat off an oil cloth cov- 
 ered table to save laundry. "Rounds" at 9 a. m. After 
 which dressings are done. The poilus have their lunch 
 at eleven and the staff at noon. The dejeuner is the best 
 meal of the day and consists of some kind of meat or 
 fish, two or three vegetables, sometimes a salad and 
 cheese and coffee. We are in the Brie region and a ripe 
 Brie cheese is delicious. If there are operations to be 
 done, these commence at 1 :30 p. m. The operating room 
 is well equipped and the technique is excellent. In the 
 afternoon we usually take a walk and roam around the 
 surrounding country. There is a tennis court located 
 in a grove of elm trees in the park where we play occa- 
 sionally. It seems strange to play tennis while we can 
 hear cannon booming in the distance and aeroplanes oc- 
 casionally sail over our heads. 
 
 Supper is served at 7 p. m., and is a plain meal of 
 meat, vegetables and fruit. In the evenings we read or 
 
40 Jl'ifh the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 indulge in a game of ping-pong in one of the long stone 
 corridors. 
 
 Among our blesses are a number of Algerians. They 
 are fine looking fellows with well-shaped heads. They 
 seem quiet and docile, but on dit that they are demons 
 in a fight. They do not like the cold weather and the 
 trench warfare. Under their quiet demeanor is a quick 
 temper. One day when a band of a passing regiment 
 was giving a concert in the courtyard and the soldiers 
 were crowded around the musicians, we heard a loud 
 crack of something breaking and discovered that an Al- 
 gerian in a fit of sudden rage had broken his cane over 
 a French soldier's head and knocked him senseless. 
 There was nothing to do but carry the soldier on a 
 stretcher to his bed and ''evacuate'" the offender at once 
 to his depot. The Arabs do not know what to make of 
 having women nurses around. They call them "Mees" 
 or "ATama" and the stout nurses are greatly in favor. 
 They want to take the fat ones back to Algeria with 
 them. 
 
 Two of our cars go three times a week to Compiegne 
 for wounded and it is a fine ride. Our route passes 
 through Dammartin. finely situated on a hill, where Gen- 
 eral French had his headquarters at one time. We then 
 follow along a smooth road passing through several pic- 
 turesque villages to the beautiful forest of Ermenon- 
 ville. In Dumas "Three Musketeers," he speaks of his 
 heroes riding from Dammartin to Ermenonville in ten 
 minutes. Perhaps horses went faster in those heroic 
 days, for it takes us fully twenty minutes in a Ford. On 
 strategic points everywhere are barbed wire entangle- 
 ments and here and there are cleverly constructed reserve 
 trenches. The French are taking no chances and if the 
 Germans ever break through they will not find it easy 
 going. There has been no hunting allowed since the war 
 started and the game is very tame. Fat pheasants and 
 partridges scurry across the road, occasionally we see a 
 hare or a herd of deer and the lake at Ermenonville is 
 
Life in flic Ambulance. 41 
 
 dotted with wild ducks. The ancient village of \'erberie 
 is passed through on the way. Here the English king 
 Ethelwolf was married to Judith over a thousand years 
 ago. Shortly afterwards, where the railway crosses the 
 road, sentries stop the cars and our papers are care- 
 fully examined before we are allowed to proceed. The 
 forest of Compiegne is magnificent and it is not strange 
 that it was a favorite resort of the French royalty. The 
 handsome towai of Compiegne seems very peaceful con- 
 sidering it is seven miles or so from the trenches. Some 
 of the residences are closed but most of the stores are 
 open, people were sitting on the sidewalk cafes and car- 
 riages were driving through the streets. The large 
 chateau of Louis XV, where Napoleon met his bride 
 Marie Louise, is now used as a receiving hospital, and 
 thither we repair for our allotment of wounded. 
 
 One day a Taube dropped a tomb (^n the courtyard 
 about twenty minutes before our arrival, and a large 
 hole occupied the place where we usually stationed our 
 cars. The bomb broke most of the windows of the pal- 
 ace, peppered the walls and wounded a few hospital at- 
 tendants. The statues in the hallways of the chateau 
 are padded with straw and boxed up as a protection, but 
 if a bomb should make a square hit, it didn't seem as if 
 such measures would be of much avail.. Usually there is 
 some waiting for the wounded to arrive, so we have time 
 to see something of the park with its splendid vistas, the 
 handsome Hotel de Ville and the statue of Joan of Arc. 
 It was here that Joan was captured. How much of the 
 spirit of that heroic maid is breathed in France today ! 
 
 A visit to Dr. Carrel's hospital is a rare treat. The 
 hospital is established in a fine hotel and it is an ideal in- 
 stitution, although an occasional shell which drops in 
 the garden makes the proximity to the trenches not an 
 unmixed blessing. Dr. Carrel was conducting his re- 
 searches on the treatment of wounds which later became 
 known as the "Carrel-Dakin method," and is a notable 
 achievement in war surgery. 
 
With the American Ambulance in France, 
 
 The sound of the cannon is very loud at Compiegne 
 and other evidences of the proximity of the enemy are 
 the destroyed bridge over the Oise, and several residences 
 in the town utterly ruined by shell fire. 
 
 When the wounded come in and our quota is received 
 we hurry back to Juilly. We wrap the blesses well in 
 blankets and have hot coffee in thermos bottles for use en 
 route. Where the road is rough, care is taken to jolt the 
 wounded as little as possible. On arriving at the am- 
 bulance the wounded are undressed. They are nearly 
 always very dirty and very tired. Their uniforms are 
 caked with dirt and blood. They are given a hot bath if 
 they are able to have it. Joly, the JNIajor Domo of the 
 receiving room, is quite a character. As soon as a 
 wounded man is turned over to him he seats him on a 
 slat arrangement which lies across the tub. Then with a 
 bottle of liquid soap and a sponge he goes at his job with 
 zest. First a thorough shampoo, Joly keeping up a run- 
 ning fire of conversation, and if the soap runs down the 
 victim's face and into his eyes and mouth, Joly doesn't 
 mind it a bit but follows up with liberal douches of hot 
 water. The poilu seems to enjoy it all as much as Joly. 
 A soldier, badly wounded or with fracture of the leg, is 
 carefully bathed on a bed, and is not subject to Joly's 
 ministrations. All the wounded are X-rayed unless it is 
 very evident that the wound is merely a flesh wound. 
 Cases requiring immediate operation are attended to at 
 once. Sometimes the electric light system breaks dow^n at 
 the critical moment and acetylene lamps are ready for 
 emergencies. The poor fellows are put to bed and given 
 a meal and the inevitable cigarette. They then sleep and 
 sleep. Many of them have not been in a bed for months. 
 They usually sleep all night, all the next day, waking up 
 only for meals, the next night and part of the next day. 
 Quite often they have bad dreams and nightmares and 
 cry out in their sleep as they dream of an attack. 
 
The Sitn-oiiiidliiis Country. 43 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE SURROUNDING COUNTRY. 
 
 On the road to Paris, about a mile and a half away, is 
 the village of Nantouillet, which is distinguished by a fine 
 old chateau built by Charles de Melun, grand master of 
 France under Louis XI. The moat and ivy covered walls 
 are still well preserved and the building shows some 
 charming architectural features. The present master of 
 the Chateau is a prisoner in Germany and his efficient 
 wife manages the farm. Before the battle of the Marne 
 a squad of Uhlans rode into her courtyard and selected 
 the best dog out of a famous kennel of hunting dogs. 
 The Germans seemed to have been well informed about 
 France even to small details. This reminds me of the 
 story of the professor in the college. 
 
 For some time before the war began there had been 
 a German on the faculty at Juilly. It was noticed that 
 he spent most of his time outside of class work in walks 
 and bicycle rides around the country. A few days before 
 war was declared he disappeared. On the battlefield of 
 the Marne, a few weeks later, his dead body was found 
 clad in a German officer's uniform. In his pockets were 
 well-drawn maps of the surrounding country, showing 
 every road, hill, wood and stream of military value. 
 
 A few miles away is the pleasing chateau of St. Thi- 
 bault on a large estate. The charming and cultivated 
 family were fond of Americans and entertained us during 
 the summer months. 
 
 The neighboring village of Thieux is notable for its at- 
 tractive little church which was visited, according to the 
 records, by Joan of Arc on August 13, 1429. 
 
 The Seine et Marne is one of the most fertile parts of 
 France. The country is mostly flat, with low lying hills, 
 clumps of woods, meadows and fields. There is no waste 
 land. Toward the east are great stretches of wheat 
 fields. A year ago these fields were red with blood, but 
 
44 ll'ith the American Ainhidancc in France. 
 
 nature rapidly eflfaces the signs of war and wheat is now 
 waving- over the fields destined to rank in history with 
 Chalons and Tours. 
 
 Perched on a hill and a land mark from our hospital 
 windows is the town of ^^lontge. Some British troops 
 came through here in the retreat from Mons and blew 
 up two houses in order to barricade the street, but the 
 Germans came along- on the other side of the hill. Xow 
 there is an artillery force stationed here. On our first 
 visit the woods on the hill were full of soldiers digging- 
 trenches and we saw two of the famous "seventy-fives." 
 They were painted over to resemble leaves, also a wire 
 netting was spread over them which can be covered with 
 branches and conceal the cannon from hostile aviators. 
 
 Along the road to IMeaux is the newly-made cemetery 
 where 317 soldiers are buried, among them Peguy, the 
 young poet whom France mourns. These men were 
 killed the night before the 6th of September, 1914, when 
 Jofifre gave his famous order that they should retreat 
 no further, and that they should die in their tracks rather 
 than give way. A body of troops was bivouacking in the 
 field and a German battery on the hill of Monthyon got 
 their range and landed several shell in their midst. The 
 graves are decorated with metallic wreaths, and among 
 them is one from the American Ambulance. Nearby is 
 a plot where Germans are buried. It is fenced ofif with 
 barbed wire and a black post with a board and number 
 marks the spot. How magnanimous of the French to 
 protect and care for the graves of the ruthless invaders 
 of their country ! 
 
 Meaux is the nearest large town to us and is probably 
 the largest town nearest to Paris that the Germans 
 reached in 1914. A good part of the population fled on 
 the approach of the enemy. Only German patrols en- 
 tered the town. The main bodies of troops never had a 
 chance as they were engaged in heavy fighting on the out- 
 skirts by the French. 
 
 IDr. Gros of the American Ambulance tells a vivid story 
 
46 JJ'ifli the American Aiiibiilaiicc in France. 
 
 which shows what the French soldier endured in these 
 glorious days of the Marne. With other Americans from 
 Paris, Dr. Gros went out to the battlefield to bring in the 
 wounded. They arrived at Meaux at midnight and found 
 the town in darkness. There was not a light to be seen or 
 a sound to be heard except the wailings of cats, wander- 
 ing around the streets. They called and shouted and at 
 last were al)le to arouse an official. "Where are the 
 wounded?" they asked. "I will show you," replied the 
 official. They were led with the aid of a lamp to a school 
 building which looked dark and deserted. Pushing open 
 the door they found the building crowded with wounded, 
 over five hundred. They were lying on the hard floor. 
 Some were dead, others dying, all were asleep. Nine 
 days of forced marching and fighting without adequate 
 sleep or food had produced such a state of exhaustion 
 that they wanted only to be left alone. The prospect of 
 surgical care, hospital, food and drink aroused no re- 
 sponse. The worst cases were selected first, such as 
 compound fractures and those wounded in the chest or 
 abdomen. They made little or no complaint when they 
 were picked up. Only when their wounds, stuck to the 
 floor, were torn open, did they utter a sound. 
 
 Further along up the beautiful Marne valley, about an 
 hour's ride from Aleaux, lies the attractive town of Cha- 
 teau Thierry, of about 7.000 inhabitants. Here La Fon- 
 taine, the fable writer, was born. The castle that gives 
 the town its name is a 1200-year old ruin, picturescjuely 
 situated on the high bank of the Marne. 
 
 German troops crossed the river here in their great 
 advance but were driven back again after the battle of 
 the Marne, blowing up the bridge as they retreated, and 
 British and French troops made the crossing on pon- 
 toons. The town suft'ered somewhat from shell fire and 
 numerous shell holes are to be seen as grim reminders 
 of the war. Because Chateau Thierry is located deep in 
 the valley the sound of the guns at the front is not heard 
 and there is little to make one realize that war is going on. 
 
The Wounded from the Battle of Champagne. 47 
 
 In company with some French officers I visited the 
 hospitals and lunched at the officers' mess. Questions 
 about America and the American ambulance from a 
 score of officers I answered as best I could and they 
 were too polite to notice my mistakes in the French lan- 
 guage. The Medecin-Chef of the hospitals was a very 
 nervous man, drafted from civil life and breaking under 
 the strain of his office. When I said ''merci" in refusing 
 a dish offered me, he thundered at me "Merci oui ou 
 merci non ?" which amused everybody. 
 
 In a large enclosure in the town were a number of 
 freshly captured, unwounded German prisoners. The 
 officers were very sour and surly-looking. The privates 
 were youths with closely cropped heads and seemed not 
 at all sorry to be prisoners. They were kindly treated 
 by the French and received the same food as the French 
 soldiers. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE WOUNDED FROM THE BATTLE OF 
 CHAMPAGNE. 
 During the fall of 1915 there were rumors of a great 
 offensive to be made somewhere along the line. Al- 
 though we were within sound of the guns we knew little 
 of what was going on and often read in New York pa- 
 pers of events that was news to us, days old. Early in 
 September we received orders to evacuate all of our 
 blesses who were able to go. Then there was a great 
 scurry, filling out the military papers, getting out the 
 equipment and bidding farewell to the poilus who had 
 been so long with us and to whom we had grown so at- 
 tached. \\'e waited expectantly every day for news of 
 a great battle until on September 26th the official com- 
 muniques announced that, preceded by a heavy bom- 
 bardment, the French had advanced in the Champagne 
 
48 With the American Ainhitlaiicc in France. 
 
 region and had taken many prisoners and trenches. We 
 were prepared to receive a load of wounded at any time. 
 
 September 29th we were notified by telegram that a 
 trainload of wounded would arrive at five o'clock the next 
 morning, and we were ready when the ambulances began 
 to arrive from the station of St. Mard in rapid succession, 
 each one with three wounded. One man died at the sta- 
 tion before he could be taken ofif the train. The long 
 corridor was filled with wounded, wrapped in blankets 
 lying on stretchers, and as rapidly as possible the blesses 
 were carried up to the wards, the worst cases first. In 
 less than three hours from the arrival of the first pa- 
 tient the last of the 128 was put to bed. Extra cars and 
 drivers had been sent out from Neuilly else we never 
 could have handled the task so raindly. 
 
 A large man lay in the corridor, his head so swathed 
 in bandages that all of his face that could be seen was 
 a nose, a pair of large moustaches and a pair of keen 
 gray eyes. I picked up the head end of the stretcher 
 and our Belgian radiographer, Deschamps, the foot end 
 and we carried him up two flights of stairs. He grew 
 heavier and heavier until, as we reached the bed our 
 aching arms had some difiiculty in raising the stretcher 
 sufficiently to make the transfer to the bed. As we were 
 struggling with our task we were startled to hear a voice 
 roar at us out of the maze of bandages and blankets, 
 "Brace up there ! Brace up." Our patient turned out 
 to be a colonel who spoke perfect English, a magnificent 
 specimen, 6 feet 4 and 245 pounds weight. As soon as 
 we learned his rank we hurried and prepared a private 
 room for him. 
 
 Every patient was then examined and dressed. Some 
 were in desperate condition and had to be operated on 
 at once. There were some terrible wounds, especially 
 the jaw cases. It does not seem possible that a man could 
 be alive with such wounds. One boy was shot through 
 the shoulder at close range, then the ball tore open his 
 neck and carried away a good part of the lower jaw. 
 
50 With the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 floor of the mouth and tongue. He was a nervous Httle 
 chap and suffered greatly. He was fed by a tube intro- 
 duced into his nose, but did not look as if he could sur- 
 vive. 
 
 Another boy was shot through the face sideways, the 
 piece of shell tearing away a large part of the lower jaw 
 and half his tongue. A fringe of lower lip hung down 
 almost to his chest. He cannot speak, so writes notes 
 asking for something to drink and whether he will ever 
 be able to speak again. He is wonderfully brave and 
 patient and after having been fed a few times he took 
 his tube, funnel and pitcher of milk and insisted on feed- 
 ing himself. 
 
 One fine young fellow has his leg shattered and gas 
 gangrene has set in. It is too late to save him. His 
 mother arrives from Paris. He sees her entering the 
 door, cries out "Mama" and holds out his hands to her. 
 She rushes to him and folds him in her arms — her only 
 son. He expires before long but with a peaceful smile 
 on his face. 
 
 We are busy as can be, for as fast as a round of dress- 
 ings is completed we must start again, as they are so 
 quickly soiled. When we get a chance to think it over, 
 anger takes possession of us — rage that boys and young 
 men, the flower of the land, should thus be struck down 
 and nuitilated in defending their country and dear ones 
 from the merciless greed of the Kaiser and his cohorts. 
 The stench in the ward is beyond description. One of 
 our old patients is helping with the dressings, and al- 
 though he has been wounded four times and has gone 
 back again to the trenches, the smell is too much for 
 him and he vomits repeatedly but always returns to 
 help. 
 
 The saddest cases of all are the blind. Dr. Scarlett 
 comes out from Paris to do what he can for them, but 
 too often their eyesight has gone beyond hope. It is 
 heart-rending to witness their hope when they recover 
 from the anaesthetic and believe, now that they have 
 
TJic JJ'oiDidcd from the Battle of Champagne. 51 
 
 been attended to by the American doctor, they will be 
 all right. They get some one to light a cigarette for 
 them, laugh and crack jokes. Later on when the con- 
 sciousness that they are doomed to everlasting darkness 
 comes to them, they are magnificent. Not a whimper, 
 a word of sorrow or self-pity passes their lips. They 
 meet their fate with the noble fortitude of the race. 
 
 The nurses are working splendidly and are at their 
 best now that there is plenty of work. The first night 
 was a terrible one, but we managed to get through it 
 with a liberal use of morphine. Almost every patient 
 is bad enough to require a special nurse in civil practice, 
 and for our 52 patients in a ward we have three nurses 
 and one auxiliary. There are no trained orderlies, but 
 the convalescent soldiers rapidly become apt helpers. If 
 war brutalizes soldiers, it certainly does not show itself 
 in the attitude of the French soldiers to each other, as 
 no one could be more solicitous and tender than are 
 these poilus of their fellow comrades. 
 
 And so it goes on. A few die, those who were hope- 
 less on their arrival. The village priest is called and 
 gives them the last rites. Gradually conditions improve, 
 the blesses sufifer less and the stench in the wards di- 
 minishes. But just as we feel relieved that no more of 
 our blesses are going to die, the danger of secondary 
 hemorrhages arises. These come on suddenly and with- 
 out warning, as the infection reaches and ulcerates an 
 artery. One night I was called to the ward hurriedly 
 and by the light of a lantern was appalled to see blood 
 pouring out of a man's mouth. The poor fellow was 
 choking and blood poured all over the bed. There was 
 no success in trying to see where the blood came from. 
 A shrapnel ball had struck him in the face alongside of 
 the nose and traversed the neck and the blood poured out 
 of his mouth too fast to sponge it out and see by lan- 
 tern light the source of the bleeding. A finger in his 
 mouth felt a hole in his hard palate through which the 
 blood poured and the finger was used to plug the hole 
 
52 JFifh the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 until the blood could be cleaned out and the wound 
 packed. By this time the blesse was white as a sheet, 
 sitting" up in bed covered with blood. Two tears rolled 
 down his cheeks as he said "Merci," kissed my hand and 
 settled back on his pillows. 
 
 This afternoon as I was shaving an Algerian who had 
 his upper jaw smashed by a bullet. I heard a splashing 
 sound and an old chap came staggering into the salle de 
 pansements with blood pouring out from a great hole 
 in his face. He started to bleed as he sat up in bed and, 
 knowing that I was in the dressing room, he came in 
 there after me, leaving a trail of blood behind him. \'ig- 
 orous packing stopped the hemorrhage for the time be- 
 ing but later on it was necessary to tie the external 
 carotid artery in his neck. We call this poilu "grand- 
 pere," for, although he is only thirty-nine, yet he has 
 only a fringe of gray locks around the edge of his bald 
 pate. A Chinese bullet fifteen years ago carried away 
 a part of his nose and a piece of German shell took away 
 most of what was left and a large piece of his upper jaw. 
 When he was wounded, grandpere crawled into a shell 
 hole and packed his wound full of mud to stop the bleed- 
 ing. He is a Breton fisherman and makes long fishing 
 voyages to the Canadian banks. He knows two English 
 words, "Cod fish" and "Whisky." 
 
 After a varying length of time in the hospital the 
 blesses are evacuated. The slightly wounded ones go to 
 their depot, where they receive permission to visit their 
 families for a few weeks before their return to the' 
 trenches. Those requiring further treatment are sent to 
 convalescent hospitals in Paris or its suburbs. The hope- 
 lessly crippled men go before a Board and are reformed, 
 that is, the war is over for them. They go home and do 
 what they can to make a living. Partially disabled sol- 
 diers are placed in the auxiliary service, where they are 
 assigned to work in accordance with their capacity as 
 drivers, railroad helpers, kitchen assistants, hospital or- 
 derlies or workers in ammunition factories. 
 
Breton peasants who have come to visit their sou zuho 
 is badly wounded. 
 
54 With the American Aiiibiilaiicc in France. 
 
 Some of our wounded speak English quite well. A 
 bright young fellow from Soissons who had never been 
 a hundred miles away from home spoke English and 
 was glad of the opportunity to improve his knowledge of 
 the language. He had learned English in the college at 
 Soissons and the result was a striking improvement over 
 the success of an American boy learning French at an 
 American college. At our request he wrote out a story 
 of his experiences in the war, the first part in French and 
 the "most interesting part of the story" in English. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ROBERT'S STORY. 
 
 I was at my home north of Soissons when the war 
 broke out. I was nineteen years of age and I did not 
 expect at that time that I would be called to the colors. 
 
 The first of September, 1914, French troops retreating 
 from Charleroi had just passed through our village when 
 cries of terror resounded in the streets, "Les Allemands, 
 les Uhlands." We heard in the distance the clatter of 
 horses' hoofs and some minutes later the Belgian lanc- 
 ers, then the artillery passed at full speed. It was a false 
 alarm. The "I>oches" were our friends, the Belgians. 
 
 After this my mother, who did not want me to remain 
 in the village during the invasion, made preparations for 
 my departure. In the evening as we learned from the 
 dragoons, the last troops in retreat, that the Germans 
 were only 12 kilometers away, I bade my parents fare- 
 well and started on foot for Paris. All night long I 
 walked. It was a terrible night for me. Behind me the 
 cannon thundered over our poor villages and the glare of 
 flaming homes, burned by the enemy, added a note of 
 horror to this first vision of war. I trudged all night 
 long with death in my soul, 43 kilometres, thinking of 
 
Robert's Story. 55 
 
 my family in the hands of the enemy. I began to un- 
 derstand what war was. A year later I had to understand 
 it more. 
 
 I was ordered to report to a regiment at Paris, and 
 then was sent to a camp for instruction. Sickness delayed 
 my departure for the front so that it was not until June 
 that I joined my comrades in the trenches of the Aisne. 
 Our regiment held a secteur violently bombarded day and 
 night, only a few kilometres from my home town. 
 
 By the middle of August we were ordered to the 
 Champagne region to prepare for the approaching of- 
 fensive. There we dug by night new trenches and "boy- 
 aux." Our lines, 800 meters distant from the enemy, 
 were moved up to 400 and even 300 metres. During the 
 day we dug our old "boyaux" deeper. 
 
 On September 20th we learned the decision of the 
 Commander in Chief. We were going to take the offen- 
 sive in a few days. When our turn came for guard duty 
 in the first line we sewed the traditional square of white 
 cloth on our knapsacks, which would denote our presence 
 to our artillery and prevent our being shot by our own 
 men. 
 
 The twenty-second of September at five o'clock in the 
 morning we took our place in the first line. Two sec- 
 tions of my company were on guard and the two others 
 were at rest in the dug-outs. As for myself I fell asleep 
 at once in a dug-out as I was very tired. Suddenly about 
 seven o'clock an infernal noise awoke me all of a sudden. 
 The "seventy-fives" near us fired all at once and in about 
 an hour all of our "seventy-fives" were engaged. The 
 Boches replied. The "seventy-sevens." "one hundred and 
 fives" and "one hundred and fifties" were rained on our 
 batteries but without effect. 
 
 A sergeant entered our dug-out all excited, "Here is 
 the order," he said. "The offensive has started, the bom- 
 bardment will last three or four days. The seventy-fives 
 will fire today, tomorrow the heavy cannon and on the 
 last day all the artillery will fire at the same time. At 
 
56 JJltli the American Ainbitlaiicc in France. 
 
 the attack you will be the first to go." His words are 
 received without a murmur. We then crack jokes as the 
 Boche shells continue to fall above us causing some 
 caving in of the ceilings of our dug-outs. At last towards 
 midday the Boche quit firing. As for us. our bombard- 
 ment became more and more intense. 
 
 The third day of the bombardment must have been a 
 terrible one for the enemy. Shells of all sizes threw up 
 into the air for hundreds of feet pieces of rocks, trees 
 and material of various kinds. The explosions of our 
 "75" and "155" and of our aerial torpedoes on the 
 enemy's first lines confused our brains and upset our 
 stomachs. 
 
 The twenty-fourth of September we learned that on 
 the next day at nine fifteen exactly our company would 
 be the first to attack and take the first line of the enemy's 
 trenches. The news hardly surprised us as we expected 
 it. Some of us were chosen as "trench cleaners" or 
 "zigouilleurs" and received a strong knife and a Brown- 
 ing revolver. The "trench cleaner's" duty is during an 
 attack to kill all the eneni}- hidden in the dug-outs who 
 would be able to shoot us in the back. 
 
 During the night we prepared our sacks, containing 
 three days of reserve rations and saw to our square of 
 white cloth which would guide <uu' artillery. 
 
 Here I speak English for the most interesting part of 
 the story. 
 
 Twenty-fifth of September. — It is eight o'clock in the 
 morning. We are ready. With our sack we have also 
 two musettes ; one for grenades and cartridges, and the 
 other for chocolate and bread. To our belts are hung a 
 set of small tools and a "pochette", holding the masque 
 and pad designed to ward off the asphyxiating gases. 
 Last, we each have two "bidons" of a capacity of one 
 litre apiece. 
 
 For myself I also carry a board two meters long which 
 I am to lay across the foremost enemy trench to allow 
 the passage of my comrades. In the right hand, my rifle. 
 
Robert's Story. 57 
 
 It rains, and this depresses us a little; but we are ac- 
 customed by former duties to all the caprices of the 
 weather and rain is not going to hinder our deter- 
 mination. 
 
 Our lieutenant calls the section together. He tells us 
 that we shall be the first to move ; we are to be the regi- 
 ment's first wave of assault. We are told to leap over 
 the parapet at fifteen minutes past nine and to then 
 march straight before us in the direction of Sommepy- 
 Vouziers, in short, towards the north. "I know," says 
 our lieutenant, "that there is not one of you who will 
 show any sign of weakness." Our glance suffices to 
 convince him that, every one, we are proud to attack first, 
 and that, among us, none shall recoil. "Tomorrow morn- 
 ing," continues our lieutenant, "we shall have forced the 
 lines of the enemy. We shall be at Sommepy. It will 
 be Sunday and we shall attend high mass which will be 
 celebrated by soldier priests in the ruins of the church." 
 Saluting, we return to our arms. 
 
 The rain falls, drizzling yet heavy. The bombardment 
 becomes more and more violent, the bursting of our ter- 
 rible 75s falling from far before us, often into our own 
 trenches, bringing danger to us from our own com- 
 rades. We feel a great enthusiasm course through us 
 more and more ; among us there is not one who glances 
 back with regret upon other days in this hour of death. 
 Each gazes, on the contrary, frankly towards that future 
 which looms up as red as the blood which is soon going 
 to dye that "plateau." Everyone thinks "our life would 
 have been worth something for would we not have aided 
 in saving our France from danger?" We smoke a pipe ; we 
 speak of the terrible moments that we are about to live 
 and which we foresee as less terrible than the reality. 
 
 At last! nine o'clock has come. The section files into 
 the "parallele," a trench with steps dug during the night 
 before our first line to aid the movements of the appointed 
 hour. 
 
 "Du courage, mes enfants," cries our lieutenant ; "re- 
 
58 Jllth the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 gret nothing; think of that future which is dawning so 
 beautifully for France, that future which will be your 
 glory and your recompense. Not one of you will retreat. 
 The moment has come for us to drive the invader from 
 our land and to restore those innumerable ruined places 
 which you will see on your way. Remember that you are 
 soldiers of the glorious Thirty-fifth Infantry Regiment of 
 Belfort." 
 
 The lieutenant lights his pipe ; we put bayonet to rifle, 
 musette to back and adjust our helmets. 
 
 Five minutes past nine * * * the artillery is increasing 
 its range. The attack is going to begin. How very long 
 seem these moments. 
 
 Ten minutes past nine * * * Ready, mes enfants, to the 
 escaliers ! We embrace ; fathers gaze for a last moment 
 upon photographs of wives and children, confide to them 
 their last thoughts as they press kisses upon them. * * * 
 Unforgetable minutes, of which still the memory horrifies 
 yet fascinates me. Once more I see a fine, heavy-bearded 
 comrade of the "Bresse" embracing his sergeant as 
 bearded as himself while he mutters, "Au revoir, et non 
 adieu." This scene is chiselled into my memory. 
 
 Fifteen miutes past nine ! Our lieutenant climbs the 
 parapet of the trench and. raising his sword : "En avant 
 mes enfants, and good luck!" 
 
 From this moment, cruel minutes passed through my 
 mind for not having full consciousness of the reality, I 
 lived as in a dream, asking myself always if in this hour 
 men were surely about to spill each other's blood. Here 
 is best what I remember : 
 
 My comrades and I marched rapidly toward the Boche 
 trenches, head lowered and throwing the body forward 
 at each whistling of an obus. Now and again I raised 
 my head, glanced around me c^uickly and then shrugged 
 down into my shoulders. 
 
 Strangely, I had no fear, yet I knew that soon the 
 figure of Death would be stalking among us. Always it 
 rained, and this rain formed a mist through which the 
 
Robert's Story. 59 
 
 aeroplanes were indistinguishable. "That's going to make 
 it bad for the artillery," thought I. On each side I saw 
 our lines advancing, staggering, winding, tottering and 
 again advancing. So, we stumbled forward for a hun- 
 dred meters amongst a clattering riot of bursting obus 
 of every caliber. Yet none near me had been wounded. 
 Helas ! How trivial was this vision to that which we 
 were to later see. 
 
 Suddenly (I found myself among the first), I heard 
 cries, "Forward, faster, run." Faster we ran, so that it 
 was necessary to wait for one or two. The line must be 
 straight to penetrate the first Boche trench. 
 
 Then indeed broke a hailstorm of iron. I saw my com- 
 rades coming up to me with heads lowered, I heard the 
 spiteful tac-tac of the German machine guns (mitrail- 
 leuses ) and, at the end of a few seconds, I remarked that 
 we had before us at least ten mitrailleuses. I ran back 
 quickly, my lieutenant was down, mortally stricken, 
 among many other soldiers. Close to me another threw 
 out his arms, wheeled around and fell. From all about 
 me came cries. I was conscious of the reality. Before 
 my eyes was unfolding one of the most terrible scenes 
 of modern warfare. 
 
 All this last occurred in the space of two or three min- 
 utes. Thicker now the bullets rained around us. Com- 
 rades sank down beside me uttering always guttural 
 cries. 
 
 The obus were beginning to burst above our heads. 
 Always I advanced. A great hatred of the Bodies surged 
 through me and a fire of blind rage flashed into my being. 
 Our first wave was fast becoming less dense. Many 
 already would never answer again to the call, but I saw- 
 others coming up behind us and that gave me renewed 
 confidence. 
 
 I was losing breath ; the board which I was holding in 
 the left hand prevented me from firing. I slackened my 
 pace. Two comrades rejoined me ; one had already 
 fought a long caiupaign, the other, like myself, was in 
 
60 With the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 the first attack, and showed signs of fear, I thought. The 
 first ran doggedly forward, superb, thinking of nothing. 
 I had never seen the Boches in their first fine of trenches ; 
 he had seen many. Coming up to me, he cried, "Have 
 no fear, *Mon petit gars,' and follow me ; 'ca ira' !" 
 
 The second arrived and closed up with him ; I did the 
 same. There was no more sound of the mitrailleuses, 
 so that I cried: "All goes well!" At that same moment, 
 I felt a violent blow in the head, I wheeled and stag- 
 gered, * * * I was blind : a feeling of whirling fire spun 
 through my brain * * * I was blind ! 
 
 I thought myself lost and let my rifie fall. Then whis- 
 pering a last adieu to my poor mother, already widowed 
 by the war ; a faint prayer to the Virgin, I fell. 
 
 How long did I lie there knowing nothing? I can- 
 not tell. But the struggle must have raged tremendously 
 around me. When at last I came to myself, I found my- 
 self mixed in a pile of other wounded lying at the bot- 
 tom of a deep hole that had been made by a bursting 
 obus. 
 
 I could see nothing, absolutely nothing, and I was 
 bleeding profusely from the nose, mouth and forehead. 
 There was hardly any pain. Continually, the obus burst 
 around us. The German mitrailleuses never ceased their 
 infernal chattering ; ours remained mute ; our mitrailleurs 
 being nearly all killed or wounded. 
 
 About the hole to which I had been carried, the Cor- 
 poral Brossire had rallied a few men to preserve us, if 
 possible, from massacre at the hands of the enemy, in 
 case they reached us. I remember that he placed upon 
 me the dead tody of a corporal as a protection from pro- 
 jectiles. 
 
 Many tirnes the Boches tried to reach us. but they 
 were always repulsed, grace to the courage of this Cor- 
 poral Brossire who could always, in a tragic moment, 
 find those words which put added courage into the hearts 
 of his men. Wounded in the skull, he continued to com- 
 mand and to scorch with a glance those who spoke of 
 
Robert's Storx. 61 
 
 retreat or surrender. "We will die here if we must," 
 said he, "but never will I give up these wounded com- 
 rades." 
 
 The situation becomes more and more critical. After 
 two hours of incessant and unequal fighting, the corporal 
 and his men resign themselves to that beckoning figure of 
 Death which has for so long been reaching toward us. 
 They fire no more ; their arms, grimed with mud, refuse 
 to answer to the trigger. The Bodies, in their turn ad- 
 vance in quick rushes ; now, they have only thirty meters 
 between themselves and us. "Don't stir," cries Brossire ; 
 "act as if dead, every one of you : they will pass * * * 
 attention, here they are." 
 
 We wait, two, three, four seconds during which I can 
 hear the pounding of my heart. What is happening ? Sud- 
 denly one of our mitrailleuses makes itself heard behind 
 us. It is at its maximum of speed and the bullets whistle 
 alx)ve us, rushing to sow death among that advancing 
 group. 
 
 A crv from the corporal, "Saved, mes enfants, it is 
 Meyer : he is working for us." The brave Meyer, a ser- 
 geant mitrailleur, alone by his piece has in a few mo- 
 ments turned our terrible enemy. 
 
 Toward three o'clock I was found by a soldier who 
 was carrying to the rear his wounded adjutant and who 
 had found me in his path. Seeing me thus blind, he had 
 ofifered to lead me to the rear before starting again for 
 the front. 
 
 Once in our trenches, I was confided, with other 
 wounded, to a party of Boche prisoners, who, under 
 careful guard, carried us upon their back through the 
 "boyaux" up to the first "Poste de Secours." Among 
 these was a Bavarian who spoke French as well as I 
 and who had not the grace to admit a defeat which now 
 showed itself so certain, and who even dared to criticise 
 our mode of attack, stating that we should be forever 
 hated and despised by neutral nations when they would 
 learn how terrible had been our bombardment. 
 
62 JVith the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 I reached the ambulance very tired, twice I had fainted 
 on the way and felt capable of nothing more. The mor- 
 row, I was in Chalons, where I was operated in the 
 right e}e, and later sent to the Ambulance at Juilly, 
 where, at the hands of gentle American women, I re- 
 ceived the tenderest care. On the 14th of October I 
 was operated on and after a long treatment with many 
 irrigations, I feel well now. 
 
 Here I end my story, in the course of which I have 
 wished to forget no detail nor to imagine anything. 
 
 It will be a day of dullness for me when I will leave 
 you and those ancient walls of Juilly, inside of which 
 during my unhappiness, I found such beautiful days. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE TRIALS OF A MfiDECIX-CHEF. 
 
 The change from being a staff surgeon to Medecin- 
 Chef had its advantages and drawbacks. Along with the 
 authority suddenly imposed on one and the opportunity 
 of running things as one thought best, this position 
 brought with it responsibilities and the unenviable posi- 
 tion of having everything disagreeable that arose put "up 
 to the Medecin-Chef." The greatest drawback to the 
 position is that one is deprived of the intimate contact 
 with the ])oilus. 
 
 In the system of hospital management one man. the 
 Medecin-Chef, is given full authority and made respon- 
 sible for each and every department. This system has its 
 advantage as the hospital is conducted by a medical mar 
 and the friction that often arises in civil hospitals be- 
 tween the medical stafif and the ofifice, is eliminated. At 
 the same time a heavy task is imposed on the Aledecin- 
 Chef. He is responsible to the government for the wel- 
 fare of the \\'ounded entrusted to his care, must super- 
 
The Tr ials of a Mcdccin-Chef. 63 
 
 intend the treatment and see that the mihtary papers are 
 properly filled out. Then tliere are the countless de- 
 tails of the surgical department, viz., the keeping- up of 
 supplies and equipment, the discipline of the hospital, the 
 engaging of nurses, etc. 
 
 The housekeeping department comprises the super- 
 vision of the kitchen, store room, laundry, and the work 
 of the house cleaners. Some of our food we buy in Paris 
 and bring out in a camion. The meat and bread are 
 delivered from the town of Dammartin, milk is pur- 
 chased from a country dairyman, and butter, eggs, fresh 
 vegetables and cheese we buy in the vSaturday market at 
 Meaux. Complications are constantly arising. The 
 camion breaks down just as it is needed to haul supplies. 
 The milk delivered is found to be sour and cannot be 
 used. The turkeys were delivered at the hospital un- 
 plucked and the kitchen stafif are sore because they have 
 to pluck them. The poilus complain that the meat was 
 not properly cooked and upon interviewing the cook he 
 blames the coal, which at $20 a ton contains a goodly 
 amount of dirt and rock. Some of the nurses refuse to 
 eat rabbit and kid after they discover what they are. 
 Two of the cook's assistants have a fight and the row 
 has to be straightened out. Then the pump breaks down 
 unexpectedly and for two days all the water has to be 
 carried upstairs in buckets. A fire breaks out in the 
 laundry, burns up a lot of the wash and a laundress has 
 a hysterical fit. 
 
 Splints and fracture boards are needed and the village 
 carpenter and blacksmith must have the appliances ex- 
 plained to them. A stove in the theatre smokes and it 
 is found that the smoke stack has two elbows and doesn't 
 draw properly. No stove piping is to be had ready made 
 and it will take two weeks to have it made in Paris. 
 Milk is being spilled on the stairways as it is being car- 
 ried to the wards. By close watch two culprits are 
 caught and sufficiently admonished. Telephone com- 
 munication is suddenly cut ofif without any explanation 
 
64 IVith the American Ambulance in Prance. 
 
 and remains cut off in spite of a telegram of protest. 
 We have gotten so used to having our electric lights go 
 out that we are prepared for it and have a plentiful 
 supply of candles and lanterns. 
 
 After such a day with perhaps half a dozen operations, 
 the Medecin-Chef's labors are not over. There are the 
 bills and vouchers to look over, as the Medecin-Chef 
 has to approve of the expenditure of every franc. 
 
 The wounded nearly always arrive at night, usually 
 several hours later than the time announced. At first 
 we used to wait up for them but found it was a better 
 plan to rest and be called by the night orderlies when 
 the first ambulance arrived. The Medecin-Chef then had 
 to superintend the job, see that the blesses are properly 
 handled, undressed and bathed, look over their injuries, 
 assign them to the different wards and decide whether 
 immediate operations are necessary. 
 
 A trip to Paris was often a mad rush to get things 
 attended to. A day in Paris might pass like this : An 
 effort to arrange that some of our heavier supplies would 
 go out by train encountered at once "red-tape" and un- 
 certainty of train service. Two hours were spent trying 
 to get a dozen beds. After going a long way to a whole- 
 sale place and choosing the bed we wanted, found that 
 it was only a sample. They said they couldn't make any 
 more because their workers were mobilized and it is diffi- 
 cult to get iron. The Germans hold most of the iron 
 mines. Then went miles across Paris suburbs to order 
 some iron tables and by chance landed on a bed manu- 
 factory. It was a disreputable looking place but the 
 proprietor agreed to make beds at thirty francs each. 
 Then to the instrument maker to get the surgical knives 
 which had been left there to be sharpened and found 
 that they had been sent by mistake to Ris-Orangis. No 
 screws for Lane plates to be had but they could be made 
 by hand for a franc apiece and it would take a week to 
 make six. The proprietor explained that they had been 
 in the habit of getting such things from Germany. This 
 
The Trials of a Medccin-Chef. 65 
 
 is a sample of how difficult it is to get things. I have to 
 hurry to a meeting of the Juilly Committee at the Ameri- 
 can x^mbulance at Neuilly. Mr. Robert Bacon is there 
 and a talk with him inspires me to greater effort. 
 
 Arriving back at Juilly after dark my troubles were not 
 over for the day. Some convalescents were to be evacu- 
 ated and three of them were intoxicated. We had re- 
 markably little trouble with the soldiers drinking. Con- 
 sidering the hardships and sufferings they had been 
 through, an occasional lapse would not have been strange, 
 and the absence of drinking showed the fine discipline in 
 the French army. 
 
 This offense of being intoxicated had then to be thor- 
 oughly investigated. The next morning the three de- 
 linquents, looking very sheepish, are called into my office 
 and admonished. They all confess their fault, were sorry 
 and were pardoned. It appeared that they got the liquor 
 in a little village a mile away. We went to the village 
 and accused the woman in charge c^f the wineshc^p of 
 selling liquor to the soldiers. She denied it but when con- 
 fronted with one of the soldiers then tried to put it oft' 
 on her fifteen-year-old daughter. The maNor was then 
 hunted up but as he was absent, we called on the acting 
 mayor. He was a little peasant disturbed at his noon- 
 day meal of a savory ragout and salad. In reply to our 
 complaint, he agreed that it was a grave oft'ense and 
 would act as we wanted. What did we want him to do? 
 Close the "bistro" for eight days. All right, lie would 
 do so if we would write out a complaint and an order 
 of closure. So back to the luxspital we went and wrote 
 out the two papers, and then back to the mayor's. "All 
 right, I will attend to it tomorrow as today is Sunda\- 
 and perhaps there will be customers there." "So much 
 the better," he was told, "and it nmst be attended to at 
 once." But then he wasn't dressed. Xo matter, we would 
 be glad to wait and drive him over in our auto. So at 
 last it was attended to. The mayor dressed, went along 
 with us, gave the orders forbidding any sales for eight 
 
66 With the American Aiiibitlaiicc in France. 
 
 days. The incident is closed Init had a sahitary effect on 
 all concerned. 
 
 France has ever been famous for her good cooking 
 and the stress of war has not broken down this admirable 
 characteristic. To a Frenchman meal time is an institu- 
 tion to be enjoyed with a zest and a touch of the artistic. 
 The soldiers are well fed and, except in time of heavy 
 action, have plenty of well-cooked food. Some of the 
 4000 hospitals used for wounded soldiers at times have 
 difficulty in providing certain food for the wounded. 
 Chickens and butter are sometimes difficult to obtain or 
 are beyond the reach of the hospital's finances, but bread, 
 eggs, milk, vegetables and meat, in moderate quantities, 
 are usually available. 
 
 The prices of food, transposed from kilograms and 
 francs into pounds and cents, that we paid in 1915-16 
 were : 
 
 lieef and nnitton, 28 cents a pound. 
 
 Chickens, about $1.35 each. 
 
 Rabbits, 75 cents apiece. 
 
 Bread, from 3 to 4 cents a pound. 
 
 Butter, 35 cents a pound. 
 
 Eggs, 35 cents a dozen. 
 
 Potatoes, 2 cents a pound. 
 
 Beet sugar, 10 cents a pound. 
 
 Later the price went to 24 cents and sugar was difficult 
 to obtain in large quantities. 
 
 Coffee. 38 cents a pound. 
 
 Milk. 5 cents a quart. 
 
 Rice, 8 cents a pound. 
 
 The total daily cost of feeding each individual in the 
 hos])ital, patients and staff, was 56 cents a day. 
 
Holidays and Festivals. 67 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 HOLIDAYS AND FESTI\'ALS. 
 
 On Thanksgiving Day we were as z-Xmerican as could 
 be and the staff celebrated the day by having roast turkey 
 stuffed with chestnuts and a huge pumpkin pie. As 
 Thanksgiving day did not mean anything to the poilus 
 we concentrated our efforts in preparing Christmas and 
 New Year's entertainments for them. 
 
 The French winter is nothing to be proud of. The first 
 week in December it was so cold that some of the sol- 
 diers in the trenches had their feet frozen. By the middle 
 of December it was too warm for an overcoat. By Christ- 
 mas time it was freezing again. There was little snow, 
 but it rained nearly every day. It grew dark at 3 :30 in 
 the afternoon and our lighting bills increased consider- 
 ably. Things are rather quiet in the bad weather, and 
 apparently the two lines of trenches settled down for the 
 winter, each one with the feeling that the other is un- 
 able to break through their line. 
 
 The Christmas celebration was a great success. The 
 wards were decorated with strings of colored paper run- 
 ning from the walls to the electric lights, the walls were 
 decorated with wreaths of ivy and bunches of holly and 
 mistletoe were hung in the windows. The wooden 
 frameworks for suspending broken limbs were festooned 
 with ivy. Altogether the effect was very pretty. 
 
 On Christmas eve the boys from the college sang for 
 the blesses. Some of them had very sweet voices. They 
 had a small but heavy organ which they carried from one 
 ward to another and one of the professors played the ac- 
 companiments, making a goodly numl)er of discords. 
 Nevertheless, the soldiers enjoyed the music hugely. 
 
 On Christmas morning there was much handshaking 
 and exchange of "Bonne Noel." In every ward there 
 was a tree decorated with imitation snow, tinsel and 
 candles. Every soldier received a bag containing simple 
 
68 With the .Imcrican Ambulance in France. 
 
 gifts as writing- pads, socks, pipes, candy, etc. A huge 
 Ambulance driver made a realistic Santa Claus and 
 amused the blesses as he distributed the presents. 
 
 Our wounded colonel made a gracious speech, which 
 one of the staff took down in shorthand. Of course it 
 suft'ers from being translated, but is worth recording. 
 
 "Ladies and Gentlemen of the American Amliulance of 
 Juilly: 
 
 "In tlie name of my wounded conu-adcs and in ni}- 
 own name, 1 beg to thank you for }()ur delicate thought in 
 giving to us the illusion of our absent family by this 
 Christmas celebration. I desire also to express to you 
 our appreciation of the devotion and science of the doc- 
 tors and the professional skill and devoted care of the 
 nurses who have carried to the bedside of the wounded the 
 charm of their grace and their smiles. Thus have you 
 lightened our sufferings and saved most of us, myself 
 among them. I certainly represent all the wounded when 
 I say that we shall never forget the devoted care which 
 \-ou have given us. 1 ask you to applaud 'un trii^le ])an" 
 in honor of the Ambulance." (Here the assembly fol- 
 lowed the Coloners suggestion and clapped hands in the 
 French fashion. ) 
 
 "Christmas recalls to us very sweet memories. As 
 children we placed our slippers in the chinuiey ])lace and 
 prayed to the Christ child or to St. Nicholas to bring 
 us the toys that we wanted. The next morning, with our 
 happy parents, we had the joy of finding the gifts that \\ e 
 longed for. Later on in life, we have enjoyed the cus- 
 tomary midnight gaiety, and Christmas has always been 
 the fete day for the children and family. 
 
 "\\> are very appreciative that the staff of the ambu- 
 lance has created such a famil}- atmosphere for our 
 Christmas day. 
 
 "As these days go by we must rememljer that our task 
 is not yet achieved and that we should by our patience 
 and will hasten our recovery so that those of us who ean, 
 and that will be most of us, shall engage again in the 
 
Holidays and Festivals. 69 
 
 unfinished combat. On this question, you must beheve, 
 no matter what you hear, that victory is certain and that 
 in the months to come we shall drive back the Boches. 
 We shall impose the terms of peace, a victorious peace 
 and prevent them from again committing their crimes. 
 You can be certain of the future that nous les aurons." 
 
 The dinner was extra good with turkey and cranberry 
 sauce in plenty. There was music by local talent and by 
 some professionals who came out from Paris. x\ cinema 
 rented for the occasion gave some excellent moving pic- 
 tures and there were games for the convalescents, as 
 bean bags and ninepins. Fortunately there were no very 
 sick patients, so all could enjoy themselves. 
 
 On Christmas morning I was called into my eld ward 
 and presented with a handsome smoking set. At the 
 same time one of the blesses read in a loud voice the 
 following speech. "Je viens an noiu de mes camarades 
 rem^rcier Madame et Monsieur le Docteur judd et ses 
 distingues collaborateurs des soins devoues dont vous 
 nous entourez. Mr. le docteur vous avez ([uitte vos 
 blesses avec regret. \'ous, qui les soignez avec la sollici- 
 tude d'une mere ; vous, qui veniez pendant certains nuits 
 apporter votre science a plusieurs d'entre n(!us. v^nis 
 etiez un pere pour tons. Eleve au grade de medecin-chef. 
 I'inquietude de ne plus recevoir vos soins nous attriste. 
 Heureusement votre successeur se montre d'un devoue- 
 ment a toute epreuve et tons nous remercions et nous 
 nous ecrions ensemble. 
 
 "Vive la France ! 
 
 "Vive rx\merique.'" 
 
 At the same time they presented L. witli a l)eautiful 
 bouquet of roses. 
 
 New Year's day is highly esteemed by the soldiers, and 
 we had the same sort of a celebration without the trees. 
 The presence of 600 soldiers just back from the trenches 
 made quite a little excitement in the village. 
 
 On Toussaints day the soldiers' graves in the little vil- 
 lage cemetery were decorated. We made up a i)rocession. 
 
Holidays and Festivals. 71 
 
 doctors, nurses, ambulance drivers and convalescents and 
 marched to the cemetery, the nurses carrying wreaths. 
 The French show a marked reverence for the dead. The 
 soldiers' graves are close together, but each one is marked 
 with a little white cross giving the soldier's name and 
 military station. The Algerians' graves have a foot board 
 with a star and crescent on it and the graves are placed 
 obliquely heading towards Mecca. Graves are scattered 
 thickly over parts of France and no one has been al- 
 lowed to remove the bodies of their relatives. That must 
 wait until after the war. 
 
 At Commencement time there were exercises in the 
 College. x\ play was cleverly carried ofif. The French 
 are born actors. Monseigneur Marabeau, the bishop of 
 Meaux, graced the occasion with his presence. He is a 
 successor to the famous Bossuet and is a striking per- 
 sonality. Tall and of commanding presence he is every 
 inch a leader. He made the rounds of the hospital and 
 shook hands with every poilu, inquiring of their home 
 town and gave each one a "jolly." He must have trav- 
 eled extensively in France, because he seemed to have a 
 bon mot for everyone, making jokes about their districts 
 and causing many a laugh. 
 
 The French priests have certainly shown up well in 
 the war. \Ve hear that there are 8,000 in the arm)-. 
 There is a heavy burden on those who are not in the 
 trenches, as the labor of caring for the sick and poor 
 has greatly increased. The soldiers as a rule are de- 
 vout Catholics and most of them go to mass when they 
 are able. The war has brought about a spiritual awak- 
 ening in France. Widows and mothers who have lost 
 their husbands and sons turn to the church for comfort 
 and strong men facing death look to the church for 
 spiritual strength to meet the great test. The director 
 of the college is a militant churchman, and is with the 
 army at Salonica, where he has been wounded and pro- 
 moted for bravery. 
 
 July 14th, the French great national holiday, was one 
 
72 With tlic American Ainbnlaucc in France. 
 
 of the most inspiring days we have hved through. We 
 learned that there was going to be a parade of the Alhes' 
 troops, so we came in to Paris to see it. Our view point 
 was the roof of the Hotel Crillon, looking down on the 
 Place de la Concorde. The square was black with peo- 
 ple, leaving only an open space for the troops to march 
 through. Down along the Champs Elysees they came, 
 over the spot where the guillotine stood, through the 
 Place, past the obelisk and up the rue Royale. All the 
 Allies were represented. There were of course the poilus 
 with their steel helmets and blue uniforms, foot soldiers, 
 bicycle corps, cavalry and Algerian troops and an artil- 
 lery detachment with the famous soixante-quinze. En- 
 glish, Scotch, Irish, Canadian, Australian, New Zealand 
 and Indian troops represented Great Britain. A Belgian 
 company was there and Russians, the biggest men of all. 
 Italian soldiers with their weaving feather plumes made a 
 natty appearance. Even Servia was represented by a few 
 troops and the Annamites from Franco-China. 
 
 The crowd went wild and cheered themselves hoarse 
 and the sight was inspiring to everyone. There was not 
 an American onlooker who did not have the feeling in his 
 heart that our boys in khaki should be there marching 
 along with the French and British and the others, and 
 that perhaps they would be by the next anniversary of the 
 fall of the Bastille. 
 
Scnlis. 73 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 SENLIS. 
 
 One of the many acts of barbarism committed by the 
 Germans which have arrayed most of the civiUzed world 
 against them has been the destruction of unprotected 
 and helpless towns and the shooting of civilians. In Bel- 
 gium and in Northern France there has always been the 
 same old excuse that the civilians had fired on their 
 troops. This has been proved over and over again to be 
 false. In other cases shots were fired but they were fired 
 by accidental or intended discharge of German rifles or 
 Belgian and French soldiers on the village outskirts had 
 fired on the enemy. Even if in some isolated instances 
 civilians had fired on the Germans (Which is not admitted 
 and has not been authenticated) there is absolutely no 
 justification for the wholesale burning of houses and mur- 
 der of innocent men, women and children. 
 
 Senlis sufl^ered such a fate and the story of her suf- 
 ferings may be cited as a typical example of the Ger- 
 man policy of "frightfulness." What senseless barbar- 
 ism to thus try and intimidate the French ! No people 
 has greater love of country and home than the French, 
 and Germany's barbarism and inhumanity, far from ter- 
 rorising the French, made them all the more determined 
 in the defense of their homes and country. 
 
 Those who know this part of France will remember 
 Senlis as one of the most charming towns of this region. 
 Situated near the forest of Chantilly, the wooded coun- 
 try furnishes excellent stag hunting and the chief hostelry 
 of the town is named "L'hotel du Grand Cerf." The in- 
 teresting little arena, walls and towers are among the 
 best relics of Roman rule in Northern France, while 
 the old chateau of Henri IV and the splendid cathedral 
 furnish a wealth of sightseeing to a visitor. 
 
 Nowadays the visitor sees first the railway station 
 burned ; only a shell of wall stands, over which waves 
 
Scniis. 75 
 
 the tricolor. Nearly all the houses lining the nie de la 
 Republique have been burned, also the St. ]Martin quar- 
 ter. 
 
 Some of the walls standing give evidence of former 
 splendor as is the case of the Palais de Justice and some 
 of the large private residences. Those that suffered most 
 were the humbler dwellings of the bourgeois. Even the 
 hospital was not spared. We saw the wall riddled with 
 bullet holes of the machine guns. The bullets had not 
 touched the crucifix on the wall but had surrounded it 
 in a remarkable manner. \\'e heard from the sweet- 
 faced sister how they were caring not only for French 
 woiuided but for German soldiers when the hospital was 
 fired <in. In the unmolested quarter is a small house on 
 the door of which is written in chalk, "Gute Leute-Bitte 
 Schoenen." The inmates have disappeared long since. 
 Had this anything to do with Germany's very complete 
 spy system? The writing is still there and serves the 
 purpose of a w^arning and reminder. 
 
 On September 1, 1914, the sound of cannon was 
 heard in the near distance, but the inhabitants had no 
 idea of their impending fate. A number of people had 
 alread}' departed, but the Mayor and city officials re- 
 mained at their post. On September 2n(l the sound 
 became louder and a large part of the population fled. 
 some on foot, some on bicycles, others in wagons. The 
 stores began to close and excitement increased. Soon 
 some French troops appeared, fighting in retreat, and 
 crossed the city in the direction of Paris. The inhab- 
 itants quickly became aware of the proximity of the Ger- 
 mans when shells began to fall, killing a few people. At 
 four o'clock the German troops of Von Kluck's army 
 appeared, marching through the streets in two colunms. 
 At the Mairie they demanded the "bourgomaester" and 
 the Mayor, Eugene Odent, presented himself, and he was 
 at once marched off to the Hotel du Grand Cerf, where 
 the Germans established their headquarters. The French 
 troops who had passed through Senlis in retreat had 
 
76 irith the Ajiicrican Amhnkuicc in France. 
 
 posted themselves on the outskirts towards Chantilly and 
 fired on the advance guards of the Germans. The mayor 
 was then faced with the accusation that the inhabitants 
 had fired on the Germans and this he denied vehemently, 
 as they had no arms and had been instructed to offer no 
 resistance. Then followed the inhuman crimes of the 
 Germans as a punishment for the lej^itimate attack of 
 the French rear guard. The Mayor and six citizens 
 seized at hazard in the streets, were taken to the suburb 
 of Chamant and, without any trial or opportunity to say 
 farewell to their families, were shot forthwith. Here are 
 the names of the victims : 
 
 Eugene Odent, mayor, 59 years of age ; 
 
 Arthur Rigualt, stone cutter, 61 years of age ; 
 
 Romand Aubert, tanner, 52 years of age ; 
 
 Jean Pommier, laborer, 67 years of age ; 
 
 Jean Barbier, driver, 66 years of age ; 
 
 Arthur Cottrau, dish washer. 17 years of age; 
 
 Pierre Dewert, chauffeur, 45 years of age. 
 
 Several citizens, including Madame Painchaux and her 
 five year old child, were seized and forced to march be- 
 fore the German soldiers down the rue de la Republique, 
 where most of them were shot down by French bullets 
 before the French soldiers on the edge of the forest 
 ceased firing. 
 
 The rage of the Germans upon meeting any opposition 
 knew no bounds, and a good part of Senlis was set in 
 flames. To burn a defenseless town they were well pre- 
 pared with incendiary apparatus, bombs and grenades. 
 A hundred and four houses were burned and it was with 
 the greatest difficulty that the Archbishop Dourlent re- 
 ceived the concession that the entire town would not be 
 burned. 
 
 "They have fired on us and officers and soldiers have 
 been killed. See. this is the first chastisement, this street 
 that is burning. Tonight Senlis will undergo the same 
 fate and tomorrow not a house will be left standing." 
 
 The archbishop overwhelmed at these words replied, 
 
78 IJltli the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 "It cannot be possible that you would commit this crime. 
 They have not fired on you. It is the French army that 
 has been firing on your troops." 
 
 "Soldiers against soldiers," replied the ofificer, "c'est la 
 guerre, but civilians and priests fired on us at Louvain 
 in the street and from the church tower. Here the same 
 thing has happened." 
 
 The priest replied vehemently, "I do not know what 
 happened at Louvain, but no one has fired from the ca- 
 thedral tower here. I alone have the key to the tower 
 since the beginning of hostilities, and I have given it to 
 no one. This morning I climbed up into the tower to see 
 where the fighting was going on so as to be able to direct 
 those of my parishioners who wished to flee. You don't 
 suppose that I am able to carry a machine gun into the 
 tower ? I am telling you the truth and will take my oath 
 to it." 
 
 The nuirdering of the ]\Iayor and six inoffensive cit- 
 izens, the use of men, women and children as a shield for 
 their troops against French bullets, the destruction of a 
 large part of the town by fire did not satisfy the furor 
 Teutonica. Pillage remained for the brute appetite. 
 Houses were broken open, cellars ransacked and they 
 satiated their thirst in drunken orgies. Xo one was 
 safe from these frenzied Huns. The story of Simon the 
 tobacconist is typical of what happened. On the second 
 of September, towards the middle of the afternoon, a 
 dozen soldiers entered his shop. "A boire," they com- 
 manded in their drunken rage. Simon hurried to serve 
 them and, while some of them drank, others helped them- 
 selves to tobacco and the small stock of groceries. "A 
 boire. encore et toujours." There was no more wine 
 drawn, so Simon sent his father-in-law and assistant to 
 the cellar for more. 'Alore wine and quickly," and as 
 the service seemed too slow they seized the three men 
 violently crying, "You fired at us." Simon protested 
 that he had not fired and liesides that he had never had 
 a weapon in his house. He had no chance to protest 
 
The Battlefield of the Manie. 79 
 
 further as he was placed against the wall and shot. The 
 assistant escaped, the father-in-law • was one of those 
 placed in front of the German troops as a protection and 
 was mortally wounded. Poor Simon's shop stands there 
 today, that is the ruins of it, marked by the legend on 
 a board "Debit Simon." 
 
 And so on, other stories could be told of the killing of 
 innocent civilians. 
 
 The ruins of Senlis, the graves of innocent victims and 
 the memories of those frightful days remain as in many 
 a town of Belgium and Northern France an irrefuta- 
 ble record of German criminal wantonness. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE BATTLEFIELD OF THE MARNE. 
 
 The battle of the Marne was stupendous. Visitors who 
 see a part of the battle field by way of Meaux gain but a 
 small idea of its extent but a good idea of its intensity. 
 It was in the region of Meaux that a critical phase of the 
 battle developed when General Manoury's Sixth Army 
 held and began to turn the flank of \"on Kluck's First 
 German Army. 
 
 The line of battle extended from Nanteuil almost to 
 Verdun, a distance of about 120 miles. The battle lasted 
 from the 5th to the 12th of September, 1914. The dis- 
 tance from the northern to the southern edge of the bat- 
 tlefield may be said to be roughly 50 miles, so that the 
 battle field area may be estimated to cover an area of 
 6,000 square miles. The battlefield is historic ground. 
 Fourteen centuries ago the invading Huns had been 
 driven back on the field of Chalons. On the day that the 
 French first declared a republic, in 1792. the invaders 
 had been repulsed at \^almy. Napoleon executed some 
 of his brilliant exploits on these same fields. 
 
The Battlcilcld of the Manic. 81 
 
 As regards the number of troops engaging- in the bat- 
 tle an official announcement has not as yet been given. 
 The army corps and divisions engaged are known but the 
 impossibility of knowing what casualties had occurred 
 since the beginning of the war, only makes an estimate 
 possible. On the Allies side it is probable that 700,000 
 men were under General Joffre's orders. It is generally 
 believed, except by the German public, that the Ger- 
 mans were in superior numbers, probably over a million. 
 Compared with Napoleon's time, at the battle of Water- 
 loo there were 60,000 French and 70,000 allies engaged. 
 In modern times at the battle of Mukden there were 
 270,000 Russian troops and 280,000 Japanese, while in 
 the greatest battle of our Civil War there were about 
 150,000 troops on both sides. 
 
 The first shot of the battle apparently was fired from 
 a German battery at Monthyon at noon on September 
 5th. Paris lies but twenty-two miles away, and on a 
 clear day the Eiffel tower may be seen from the ]\Ionth- 
 yon hill top. 
 
 The town of Meaux narrowly escaped as the battle 
 reached to its very gates. The bridges connecting the 
 thirteenth century mills with the river banks were blown 
 up to delay the German advance, but the town itself was 
 only slightly damaged by shell fire. 
 
 Spread out to the north and east of Meaux lies a rich, 
 agricultural plain on each side of the Marne valley. The 
 villages scattered over this plain show signs of heavy 
 fighting. Houses have been demolished by shell fire and 
 walls are pock marked by bullets. Barcy, Chambry, 
 Chauconin, Etrepilly, Marcilly and Etavigny are all 
 historic names. 
 
 At Chambry the Germans had transformed the ceme- 
 tery into a fortress by piercing the walls with loop-holes 
 for their machine guns. From this stronghold they were 
 lirilliantly driven out by the Zouaves. The numerous 
 bullet marks showing on the walls, monuments and tombs 
 
82 IJlth the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 of the cemetery give some idea of how fierce the fight- 
 ing must have been. 
 
 Scattered over the fields are hundreds and thousands of 
 graves, each one marked with a httle white cross, many 
 with a small French flag and some with the dead soldier's 
 red cap pathetically resting on top of the cross. 
 
 The places where the French threw themselves against 
 the invaders in bayonet charges are easy to find as here 
 the graves are thick. Scattered here and there are iso- 
 lated graves near some village where a badly wounded 
 man perhaps tried to crawl for help and bled to death 
 on the way. 
 
 Hung to the little posts enclosing the graves are seen 
 here and there wide mouthed bottles containing written 
 messages. Within these bottles one can read a message 
 from a mother or wife begging for anyone who can to 
 give them information about their missing son or hus- 
 band. Rarely will their aching hearts learn anything 
 about their loved one. He has been buried unmarked, a 
 shapeless and unidentified mass, or a shell explosion has 
 wiped him out completely. 
 
 On a hill commanding a view of the surrounding 
 country is the farm of Champfleury. Here \^on Kluck 
 had his headquarters for eight days and saw that the 
 battle was lost, retreat was necessary to save what was 
 left and Germany's dream of world conquest was shat- 
 tered. The farm house has been repaired since the Ger- 
 mans left it. but it shows numerous scars of bullets and 
 shell fire. The proprietor told us that he left in his au- 
 tomoliile for Paris as the Germans were seen coming 
 over the hill from the north. There was no hesitation 
 or hunting for suitable headquarters. The desirable 
 sites were apparently well known. The proprietor, of 
 the wealthy farmer class, had a good wine cellar, which 
 he found thoroughly demolished on his return. In the 
 front grounds stands a cherry tree with an iron chair 
 
84 Jl'itli the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 wedged securely among its branches. This seat must 
 have commanded a fine view of the battle for a staft' of- 
 ficer or perhaps \ on Kluck himself. On a wall and on a 
 table top are written some pleasantries in German script 
 with allusions to the good times they had had with cham- 
 pagne and billiards and regrets at leaving. These writ- 
 ings have not been effaced, nor has the billiard room, 
 battered and smashed, been changed from the condition 
 in which it was found on the return of the owner. 
 
 Beyond Champfleury is the farm of Poligny. very ef- 
 fectually burned by the Germans. The large wheat han- 
 gar was used by the enemy as a funeral pyre for 2000 of 
 their dead, and its twisted girders have fallen in on a 
 mass of ashes, broken tiles and melted bones. In this 
 region the Germans used a number of hangars for the 
 same purpose, perhaps because there was no time to bury 
 their dead, perhaps because they did not want their op- 
 ponents to know the extent of their losses. Frightened 
 peasants who were hiding in their cellars tell of shrieks 
 of dying men who were thrown into the fire. 
 
 At Etavigny, where there was heav}- fighting, village 
 children presented us with handfuls of shrapnel balls 
 picked up in the fields. The church was badly damaged 
 b}- shells and lying at the portal is the church l)ell, rent 
 in twain, .\mong some blood stained straw strewn over 
 the floor we picked up some exploded cartridges. 
 
 Beyond Etavigny, where the Germans made a stand, is 
 a long line of trench now overgrown with grass. There 
 were empty tin cans, bits of clothing and leather to be 
 seen scattered about. Our chaufl:'eur told us that on a 
 previous visit he had found a Cjcrman boot attached to 
 what was once a leg, sticking out of the ground. 
 
 The booming of the cannon towards the east, the little 
 tri-color flags waving over the graves scattered among 
 the growing crops, the shell marked ruined villages, the 
 rolling plains stretching in ever\- direction, are bound to 
 produce in the visitor's mind the question, "Why did not 
 the German army sweep on as they had through Belgium 
 
The Battlefield of the Manie. 85 
 
 and Northern France and capture Paris?" "How was 
 it that this powerful machine with forty years of prep- 
 aration was stopped and driven back?" 
 
 Among other problems, the military writers for cen- 
 turies to come will be kept busy on the explanation of 
 the battle of the Marne. 
 
 In an analysis of the reasons for the defeat of the 
 world-grasping German plan, the vitalizing moral forces 
 of the armies will ever be preeminent. Napoleon said that 
 "in war the moral is to the physical as three is to one." 
 
 The French soldiers were fighting in defense of their 
 country, their homes, wives and children. The British 
 soldier thought of homes a few miles across the channel. 
 The German soldier was fighting a war of aggression, 
 carnage, destruction of innocent towns and civilians. The 
 vain glory of hacking through Belgium and Northern 
 France with superior force, the lust of blood and slaugh- 
 ter could not stand against the moral forces of patriotism 
 and sacrifice that opposed them. Joffre well knew the 
 French soldier in his famous order of the day when he 
 said, "Une troupe qui ne pourra plus avancer devra, coute 
 que coute, garder le terrain conquis et se faire tuer plutot 
 que de reculer." 
 
86 [['//// tJic American Ambulance in France. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AVIATORS. 
 
 Early in the spring an aviation training camp was es- 
 tablished at Plessis-Belleville, about five miles from Juilly. 
 A wheat field was cleared off, huge hangars were erected 
 and, in a few days, a great number of aeroplanes made 
 their appearance. There were a variety of makes, from 
 the heavy, slow Farnam to the rapid Xieuport. 
 
 We were officially notified that we were now attached 
 to the organization as the surgical hospital, and we did 
 not have long to wait for our patients. Almost on the 
 first da}- an aeroplane fell from a great height and two 
 aviators were brought in with l^roken skulls, one to die 
 in a few hours, the other to recover, partly paralyzed, 
 after a long illness. 
 
 The aviators are a superior lot of men. First, they 
 have to ])ass strict physical tests, and also they are for 
 the most part men of superior education. Some of them 
 are descendants of the old nobility and still cherish in- 
 herited titles. Some speak English well and have trav- 
 eled in America. The flyers are young men, as older 
 men, over thirtw are considered to be too cautious. The 
 French say that to l)e an aviator a man has to be a little 
 peculiar — that a normal, sane man does not make a good 
 flyer. 
 
 Accidents are frequent, five in one day. They are of 
 varying severity. One man got too near a propeller 
 and had half his scalp torn off. Broken legs and arms 
 are common. One poor fellow was high u]i in the air 
 when his machine caught fire and he was jiicked up a 
 charred corpse. 
 
 An afternoon at the flying field is a great sight. There 
 are dozens of aeroplanes ascending and descending. Oth- 
 ers are soaring around in the heavens at great heights. 
 The aviators dress in a variety of uniforms, which seem 
 to be chosen according to personal taste, as there is no 
 
88 Jrith the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 fixed uniform. For cold weather they have shaggy coats 
 of animal skins. The headquarters are located in Prince 
 Radziwill's beautiful chateau at Ermenonville. The 
 building is surrounded by a moat in medieval style. On a 
 small island in a nearby lake is the empty tomb of Rous- 
 seau, where the famous philosopher was buried before 
 his remains were transferred to the Pantheon. The Ger- 
 mans were here in September, 1914, but limited their dep- 
 redations to smashing in a few closets and bureaus. Some 
 of the servants of the chateau gleaned that the Germans 
 counted on returning after Paris was captured, in order 
 to enjoy the hunting for which Ermenonville is famous. 
 
 After the aviation field had been in use some months, 
 word passed around the Ambulance that there were some 
 American lx)ys there in training. We hoped to see them 
 and were delighted one day, shortly before they left for 
 the front, to have a call from Thaw, Prince, McConnell 
 and Rockwell. They were a line lot of fellows with the 
 quiet modesty of brave men who have done something 
 worth while but do not boast about it. They are held in 
 high esteem and admired by their b^-ench comrades, and 
 it seemed as if there could be nt) better recognition of 
 their bravery and skill. We were sorry not to see A'ictor 
 Chapman. The French say he is very daring. Norman 
 Prince is a nephew of Dr. ^lorton Prince of Boston, a 
 well known alienist, and is a Harvard graduate. He is 
 said to have originated the American Squadron as an or- 
 ganization. Thaw is a Yale man and has served in the 
 Foreign Legion. He is about 25 but looks much older. 
 Rockwell was also in the Foreign Legion. He is a 
 Southerner and is tall and handsome. McConnell is also 
 a Southerner but looks as if he might come from Xew 
 England. Thaw and McConnell are powerfully built, 
 Rockwell is slender and Prince is short and stocky. There 
 is a (juiet air of determination and devotion about these 
 men that makes every one of us Americans feel proud of 
 our fellow countrymen. 
 
 A\'e said good-by to them with sadness, feeling that it 
 
Inci dents and Observations. 89 
 
 was perhaps good-by and not au revoir. Alas, our fore- 
 bodings were too true. A few months later only Thaw 
 is left. Rockwell, Prince and McConnell have fallen on 
 the field of honor. 
 
 Well are these heroes worthy of the words of Alan 
 Seeger, the brilliant young poet of the Foreign Legion : 
 
 "Some there were 
 
 Who, not unmindful of the antique debt 
 
 Came back the generous path of Lafayette. 
 
 Yet sought they neither recompense nor praise. 
 
 Nor to be mentioned in another breath 
 
 Than their blue coated comrades whose great days 
 
 It was their pride to share— ay, share even to the death ! 
 
 Nay, rather, France to you they rendered thanks 
 
 (Seeing they, came for honor not for gain ) 
 
 Who, opening to them your glorious ranks, 
 
 Gave them that grand occasion to excel, 
 
 That chance to live the life most free from stain 
 
 And that rare privilege of dying well." 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 INCIDENTS AND OBSERVATIONS. 
 
 We soon learned that there are several ways of speak- 
 ing French. Our blesses came from almost every part 
 of France, and as our ears became accustomed to the 
 French sounds, we learned to tell in a general way from 
 what part of France our soldiers came. The southerners 
 who sounded the mute "e" and the Bretons, were almost 
 unmistakable. Our "Henri IV" from Beam spoke in 
 such a jerky manner that he was understood with diffi- 
 culty by his comrades. He always called potatoes "po- 
 tate" instead of "pomme de terre." 
 
 One little Breton who used to make a living by sailino- 
 to Dundee with loads of onions, spoke English with a 
 
90 [/'///; the America}! Aiubidancc in Fraud 
 
 Scotch accent and was nicknamed "Scottie." Tt was 
 amusing to hear him talk, partly French and parll\' with 
 his strong- Scotch accent, lie was shy at first, l)nt grad- 
 ually became conscious of his linguistic accomplishments, 
 until one day when he was called on for a menial service 
 by one of his conu'ades, announced that he was "the in- 
 terpreter for the nurses."" 
 
 After a while we learned that the soldiers use a good 
 many words not to be found in any standard dictionary. 
 In fact there is almost a new trench language, I'argot des 
 tranchees. One has to learn some of it if he is going to 
 understand what is going on. Paris is usually referred to 
 as "Panam" or "I'antruche."' The canned meat of the 
 trench ration is "singe," cotTee is "jus," wine is "pinard." 
 .\ eonu-ade is a "poteau"" or "])ote.'" A wine-shop is a 
 "Ijistro" and so on. The origin of the word "poilu"" is not 
 settled. Some say it comes from the whiskered aj^pear- 
 ance of the soldiers on their return home on leave, others 
 that it was a term ai)plied to Xai)()leon"s brigadiers on 
 account of their large hair helmets. At any rate the 
 term has come to stay, not only in French writings but 
 in I^nglish. 
 
 One who has worked among French wounded cannot 
 Imt be im])ressed with the absence of ])ersonal hatred 
 shown by the French soldier against the (^'rmans. They 
 hate the things the (k-rmans stand for. the invasion and 
 devastation of peaceful countries, the destruction of un- 
 protected towns, the massacre of unoffending men. 
 women and children, the use of gas and liquid fire in war- 
 fare, l)ut it was rare to find any expression of hatred 
 against the German soldier. In battle the French soldier 
 fights like a man with a noble heritage in defense of his 
 countr_\' and famil\-. and it is well known that the Ger- 
 mans will not stand against them in a bayonet charge. 
 lUit once the wounded German comes into his hands 
 he is treated with the natural magnanimity of the race 
 in the spirit of Bayard. The American Ambulance driv- 
 
92 IVith the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 ers tell us that they are instructed to carry badly wound- 
 ed Germans to the rear while the French wounded lie 
 there and await their turn. 
 
 I saw at Creil a little tow-headed Saxon prisoner in 
 a hospital ward with twenty or more French soldiers. 
 I le received the same food as they did. laughed and joked 
 with them, played cards and it was hard to realize that 
 he was a prisoner. With the Major's permission I had 
 a little conversation with him. He said he didn't know 
 what they were fighting for and that he wished the war 
 was over so that he could go home to his family — that 
 he was called out and had to go with the army or be 
 shot. 
 
 The French soldiers are a wonderfully happy lot of 
 men. As soon as they are well enough, the\' enjoy life, 
 relish their meals, play games, read, sing, listen to the 
 graphophone, make rings out of pieces of shells and other 
 trinkets, or walk around the park. Those who are laid up 
 for a long time with a bad fracture, weave baskets or 
 make shawls on a wooden frame. It was rare to see 
 one idle. The men who come from the invaded districts, 
 Avho have not seen or heard from their wives and chil- 
 dren for months or years, have a different look in their 
 eyes. It is a sad and thoughtful look. Woe betide any 
 German who stands in front of them in a bayonet charge ! 
 
 The French are fond of ceremony and their ceremonies 
 of decorating soldiers are carried out in such a dignified 
 and touching manner that they are inspiring. I shall 
 never forget the first decoration that I saw. In the lit- 
 tle square in front of the college, two companies of troops 
 assembled. The troops were composed of territorials, old 
 fellows, gray-haired and bald-headed — the country's last 
 reserve. The soldiers formed a hollow square and pre- 
 sented arms, the bugles and trumpets sounded and a 
 wounded one-armed soldier stepped forward into the 
 center of the scpiare. his cheeks red with excitement and 
 his remaining hand twitching with nervous exhilaration. 
 
A funeral procession going from the hospital to the z'illage church. 
 
94 JVith the Aniericcni Ambulance in France. 
 
 The Colonel then read a recital of the soldier's deeds of 
 valor, signed by Joft're, pinned the two decorations on the 
 soldier's breast and kissed him on both cheeks. The 
 trumpets sounded, the troops marched around the square 
 and we all congratulated the proud soldier on receiving 
 the Croix de Guerre and Medaille Militaire. We saw 
 quite a number of decorations. When we had a lot of 
 wounded from \'erdun, sixteen men were decorated at 
 one ceremony and the embrace on both cheeks had 
 changed to a handshake. We had the feeling that every 
 man who fought at \ erdun was a hero and should be 
 decorated. 
 
 The soldier's funeral is sad and there is such simplicity 
 and pathos that we were always affected, but came away 
 with the feeling that the soldier had done a big and noble 
 thing in giving his life for his country. The funeral pro- 
 cessions started at the hosjMtal and filed across the little 
 square to the village church. The blesses were there, 
 everyone who could make it — some on crutches, others 
 with arms in splints and heads swathed in bandages. 
 The village priest intoned the service assisted in the re- 
 sponses by the choir, consisting of one old man and a 
 nun who played the church organ. The ceremony over, 
 all who could walked to the cemetery on the edi^e of the 
 village. The coffin was usually carried by a detail of ar- 
 tillerymen from the neighboring post. At the cemetery 
 the coffin was deposited by the side of the freshly dug 
 grave, the priest chanted the ritual, each t)ne in turn 
 sprinkled holy water on the bier and the crowd departed 
 leaving flowers on the coffin. Xo salute was fired, as no 
 powder is wasted. The booming of cannon towards 
 Soissons always brought to us the reality of war. 
 
 If the relatives of the dead soldier were present they 
 always stood at the gate of the cemetery and shook hands 
 with and thanked each one of us as we passed by. 
 
A soldier's burial. 
 
96 IVitli the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 The poilu is a practical philosopher in the hospital. If 
 he has lost a limb he is thankful for the one that is left 
 to him. If he is badly wounded he is glad it is not worse. 
 
 Someone has worked out in words the philosophy of 
 the French soldier or the "Poilus' Litany" as follows: 
 
 "When I am mobilized, I shall either be kept in the 
 rear or sent to the front. If I remain in the rear there 
 is nothing to worry about. If I am sent to the front one 
 of two things can happen. I shall either be sent to a 
 post of no danger or to a dangerous position. If I am 
 sent to a post of danger, one of two things can happen. 
 I shall either be wounded or I shall not be wounded. If 
 I am not wounded, there is nothing to worry about. If 
 I am wounded, I shall either be slightly or severely 
 wounded. If I am slightly wounded, there is nothing to 
 worry about. If I am severely wounded, one of two 
 things can happen. I shall either get well, in which 
 case there is nothing to worry about, or I shall die, and 
 then I can't worry." 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FRAGMENTS. 
 
 One day in the spring of 1916 as we were going into 
 the dining room of the Hotel du Grand Cerf at Senlis, 
 we passed a French general who was leaving the room 
 followed by several officers. The general was a medium- 
 sized man with a grayish moustache. His strong but 
 kindly face was marked with lines of care. A Belgian 
 in our party exclaimed, "That is General Foch !" so we 
 rushed to the window to have another look at him as he 
 entered his limousine and succeeded in getting a snap- 
 shot. 
 
 Before the war Foch was well known as a professor 
 in the military school at St. Cyr and his writings are 
 
fraguicnfs. 97 
 
 standard works on military subjects. As Joffre's right- 
 hand man he is recognized as the greatest strategist of 
 the French Army. At the battle of the Marne General 
 Foch commanded the Ninth army, and it was at the 
 marshes of St. Gond that he executed his famous 
 maneuver and sent his celebrated message : "My left is 
 broken, my right is routed, therefore I will attack with 
 the center." 
 
 We came very near having the distinguished general 
 for a patient at one time. A hurry call was sent for an 
 ambulance to go to an accident on the road not far from 
 Meaux. When our ambulance arrived there they found 
 a fine Rolls-Royce car badly damaged by a collision with 
 a stout elm tree. The passengers were no less than the 
 famous General Foch and his son-in-law. They were 
 both mjured but, as it turned out. not seriously. Travel- 
 mg along the narrow road lined with trees, at a rapid 
 rate, it had been a question of going into a tree or 
 smashing into a peasant's cart containing some women 
 and children, and the chauffeur chose the former It 
 was a narrow escape for the general and his loss from 
 such an accident would have been most untimely. We 
 offered him the best our hospital afforded but he pre- 
 ferred to go to the hospital at Meaux, where, on account 
 of It being a military center, he would have superior 
 telegraphic and telephonic communication. Our ambu- 
 lance carried him to Meaux as he wished and returned 
 to the hospital where everyone was disappointed that it 
 did not bring back the distinguished patient. 
 
 The next day one of our nurses was at Meaux visiting 
 a patient in the hospital and had the good fortune to 
 see General JofTre and President Poincare when they 
 came to visit General Foch. 
 
 They say that Foch is the master mind of strategy of 
 all France. He is very highly esteemed but for no one 
 have the people the affection that they have for JofTre. 
 Rarely has any man commanded the universal love and 
 admiration of an entire people as does "Papa" JofTre. 
 
98 H'itli the American Ainbnlaiicc in France. 
 
 Someone brought a copy of Miss Aldrich's book, "A 
 Hilltop on the Marne," to the ambulance and we learned, 
 on consulting" the map, that her little village of Huiry 
 was within a few miles of us. One day we started out 
 to find it but, on arriving at the Marne, we could not 
 cross the river as the bridge had been blown up before 
 the battle and had not yet been repaired. Another day 
 we had better success by crossing the Marne higher up, 
 where we found a bridge that had been put in shape 
 again. By following an automobile map, we traced our 
 way along the country roads until we reached the charm- 
 ing village on the hilltop. There was no need of enquir- 
 ing for Miss Aldrich's home, as it stood before us just 
 as she described it with its "six gables, jumble of roofs 
 and chimneys." The "small garden" was there "sepa- 
 rated from the road bv an old, gnarled hedge of hazel." 
 Apparently we were first mistaken for Cook's tourists 
 for which breed Miss Aldrich has a holy horror and 
 shudders at the thc^ught that four hundred liave alreadv 
 registered to visit her nest after the war. When we 
 properly identified ourselves we received a cordial Ameri- 
 can welcome. The view from her terrace was all that 
 slie claimed for it. "a panorama rarely seen equaled," 
 and it is described so much better in her book than T 
 could write about it that no description shall be at- 
 tempted. With field glasses we could plainly see the 
 villages scattered over the Marne valley and could see 
 the battlements of Juilly partly hidden in a hollow. 
 
 From the gifted authoress' vivid descripti(~)n we felt 
 that we ourselves IkuI stood there as she did when the 
 cannon roared, the air was thick with smoke of shells 
 and burning villages and the fading cannon shot told 
 her that the foe was in retreat. Amelie. Aberlard and 
 the donkey were all there, just as described. We saw 
 the wood where the Uhlans had hidden and the road 
 where the Irish scout had fallen ofT his bicycle when 
 the efifects of the large drink of eau de vie de prunes had 
 come upon him. ^ ^^ ^ 
 
Fragments. 99 
 
 Late one winter's night at the end of January, 1916, 
 we were aroused by a peculiar roaring sound in the skv 
 which came from the direction of Paris and faded away 
 in the distance towards the front. Along with it we 
 recognized the familiar sounds of aeroplanes and could 
 hear the reports of cannon towards Paris. The next 
 day we learned that Paris had suffered a Zeppelin raid 
 and that these monsters must have passed over our 
 village on their return. A few houses demolished, huge 
 holes in the pavements, a score or so of men, women and 
 children killed in their beds, the French people more 
 determined than ever — such were the results of the 
 raid. What a stupid method of warfare ! Not one stroke 
 of military value accomplished and the raids in England 
 are the best means of stimulating recruiting. 
 
 One day we were surprised to see a British aviator 
 walk into the ambulance and enquire if there was any- 
 one here who could speak English. As he had run 
 short of gasolene and oil, he had descended in a nearby 
 field and left the aeroplane in charge of his comrade 
 while he started out in quest of these necessities. He 
 seemed somewhat surprised to find American men and 
 women in the war zone but concealed his surprise in 
 accordance with the tenets of English good form. He 
 did not volunteer to tell us where he had come from 
 or where he was going and we did not think it was 
 polite to ask him. 1 Te said, however, that as he was de- 
 scending he was glad to find that French peasants with 
 their rods for driving oxen did not turn out to be L'hlans 
 with lances. 
 
 After supplying his lack of gasolene and oil and taking 
 a hasty lunch, he departed in a hurry, not forgetting his 
 comrade, as his pockets were well filled with bread and 
 cheese. 
 
 A few days later came a polite letter from Paris 
 
100 IJlfh flic American Ambulance in France. 
 
 thanking us for our hospitality, so we at least found out 
 his destination. 
 
 * * * 
 
 On Washington's Birthday I attended the banquet of 
 the American Club as a guest of Mr. Benet, president 
 of the club. The dinner was an excellent one, given in 
 the large ban(|uet room of the Hotel Palais d'Orsay and 
 was attended by about two hundred guests. 
 
 The finest thing of the evening was the speech of Henri 
 Bergson, the famous French philosopher. He gave an 
 analysis of Washington's character and achievements 
 that was a masterpiece. He spoke in simple language, 
 in clear, beautiful French so that I hardly missed a word. 
 Several times he (juoted from Washington's farewell 
 address and from other writings, quoting from memory 
 and using perfect English. There were other speeches 
 in English and French (one by Denys Cochin, Minister 
 of State) but none to compare with Bergson's. To end 
 the evening's pleasure an American read a long, dry 
 speech, which almost spoiled the whole evening. 
 
 Some of ni}' letters home were published in the local 
 newspapers. Among other incidents I related that a field 
 hospital was bombed by German aviators and this was 
 kept up on succeeding days, even when the location of 
 the hospital was changed. The publication of this inci- 
 dent brought forth a protest from a local German tint 
 it could not lie true and a request for further investi- 
 gation. A round rol)in published by five American war 
 correspondents, Bennet, AlcCutchen, Cobb, Hansen and 
 Lewis, al)out alleged German cruelties in Belgium was 
 adduced as an argument that such accusations were with- 
 out any foundation. 1 refused to enter into a c:Mitroversy 
 at 8000 miles distance and replied that time and history 
 would decide whether atrocities had been committed or 
 not. The inadequacy of a "round rol)in" of any war 
 ct^rrespondents on the German side is very evident, as 
 
French peasants at the bedside of their wounded son. 
 
102 With the American Ambulance in Prance. 
 
 any acquaintance with the methods of the German statT 
 shows that what the correspondents are allowed to ob- 
 serve is carefully attended to in the German system. The 
 war correspondents on the German side are so carefully 
 chaperoned that they see only what the stafif wants them 
 to see. The overwhelming evidence from Belgium and 
 Northern France as to burning, pillaging, rapine and nuu"- 
 der of innocent civilians as part of Germany's system of 
 frightfulness will be presented and proven to the world in 
 a way that can not be explained away by German subtlety 
 and trickiness. 
 
 Richard Xurton of Boston in charge of the American 
 \olunteer Motor- Ambulance Corps attached to one of 
 the divisions of the French armies, made an interesting- 
 point in one of his letters concerning Germany's pre- 
 paredness in the use of ixjisonous gas. After (pioting 
 the Bulletin of Information, distributed to the troops on 
 Octol)er 1st, VJl?, which states the numbers of prisoners 
 and cannons captured in the Champagne offensive, he 
 says : 
 
 'Tn this notice no mention is made of some very in- 
 teresting gas machines that were taken. The_\' were of 
 two sorts, one for the production of gas, the other to 
 counteract its effects. The latter were rather elaborate 
 and heavy but very eft'ective instruments consisting of 
 two main parts; one to slip over the head, protecting the 
 eyes and clipping the nose, the other an arrangement of 
 bags and ])ottles containing oxygen, which the wearer 
 inhaled through a tube held in the mouth. There were 
 several forms of these apparatus, but the most inter- 
 esting point to note about them is that one had stamped 
 upon it the words: 'Type of 191-1 — developed from type 
 of 1912, developed from type of 1908." thus showing that 
 seven years ago the Germans had decided to tight with 
 gas." 
 
 :|: ;|; ;!= 
 
 (3ne caimot l)ut he impressed with the devotion and 
 
Fraginciits. 103 
 
 spirit of sacrifice of the French people. The cry "Liberty, 
 Equality and Fraternity," a hundred years or so ago 
 made the poorly paid and equipped armies of the French 
 revolution irresistible. In 1870 the same spirit was there 
 but France was poorly led and the poilu never had a 
 chance. 
 
 France has made large sacrifices and is willing to make 
 more. "The Germans must be driven out and Prussian- 
 ism must be overthrown, else our children and grand- 
 children will be called on to defend France again. Bet- 
 ter is it to make further sacrifices jusqu'au bout, for the 
 sake of our children and their children." 
 
 The world knows of the steadfastness and bravery of 
 the poilu, Ijut not enough of the women of France. It is 
 safe to say that France could not have held out had it 
 not been for the women. A large number of sliells fired 
 at the invaders of their country are made by women's 
 hands. White-haired grandmothers are working in the 
 Red Cross. In the countr)- it is a common sight to see 
 women gathering in the crops. Children, too, of tender 
 years are out in the fields in the cold rain, tending sheep, 
 driving carts and helping with the harvest. It is not 
 only in the wa\- of replacing the men at productive tasks 
 that the French women are so magnificent but it is their 
 spirit which is so nuich to be admired. Women who 
 have lost husbands, or sons, or brothers, are fulfilling 
 their daily tasks with smiling faces, inspiring with their 
 brave spirit the soldier in the trenches. 
 
104 JJ'itli the American Auihnlancc in France. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SOLDIERS' STORIES 
 
 The colonel was in command of a body of the famous 
 Colonial troops in the offensive. They left the firing 
 line at 9:15 on the morning of September 25th and 
 charged for the German trenches under heavy shell fire. 
 The colonel felt himself hit several times, but suffered 
 no pain and was not disabled. The German trench was 
 reached and there was some fierce hand to hand fighting. 
 Right into a crowd of his men a bomb was thrown and 
 lay smoking on the floor of the trench. There was not 
 a moment to lose. The colonel seized the bomb and 
 threw it back towards the Germans. As he hurled it 
 away, it exploded and his hand was blown to pieces. 
 He then became conscious of great pain and was evacu- 
 ated to the rear. When he reached our hospital we found 
 him suffering from twelve wounds. After months of 
 hospital treatment necessary for his recovery, he again re- 
 ported for duty with request for active service. 
 
 One day during his convalescence we went for a drive 
 and, as we rested on a hill which commanded a superb 
 view of the fertile plain, dotted with groves of trees and 
 little villages, the colonel looked out and exclaimed, 
 "Well, this is a land worth fighting for !"' 
 
 One of our blesses from \'erdun was a ruddy-faced, 
 stalwart sergeant. When I examined his scalp wound 
 he showed me his steel helmet with a bullet hole in it and 
 told this story : 
 
 "In one of the furious attacks at Verdun we were 
 charging the Germans with the bayonet. Directly in 
 front of me on a little mound was a tall Prussian officer 
 with a great plume in his helmet. He had a revolver in 
 his hand and as I charged towards him, he pointed it 
 at different parts of me, first at my stomach, then at 
 my chest. I expected any moment to receive the ball. 
 
Soldiers' Stories. 105 
 
 Finally when I was barely two metres away he fired at 
 my head. I felt a blow on my head and my casque was 
 knocked off." 
 
 He then paused, so I asked, "And what happened 
 then?" 
 
 He replied, "Well, I kept right on running." 
 
 "What happened next?" I asked. 
 
 "I took these field glasses off from around his neck 
 and I am glad to give them to you as a souvenir of 
 Verdun." 
 
 A well-known American manufacturer of artificial legs 
 established a branch office in Paris. Thanks to the gener- 
 osity of friends every ampute goes out of Juilly hospital 
 walking on two feet. The gift of an artificial leg costing 
 500 francs is a very practical form of charity as it enables 
 a man in many cases to resume his trade and support his 
 family. 
 
 A soldier reforme, whose leg has been amputated at the 
 middle of the thigh, comes out from Paris to take the 
 necessary measurements and attend to the fittings. He 
 walks with scarcely a limp and may be said to be a walk- 
 ing advertisement for his firm. Our artificial leg measurer 
 was wounded in the battle of the Marne, near Barcy, 
 which is only a few miles from Juilly. He related his story 
 to us as follows : 
 
 "Before the war I was a grocer. I was mobilized at 
 the onset and sent into active service. I went through all 
 the horrors and hardships of the retreat from the Belgian 
 frontier. At times we marched along, sound asleep, and 
 our comrades fell in the road from exhaustion. We didn't 
 know what was going to happen to us. We were at the 
 limit of our endurance. When the order came that we 
 were to make a stand and die rather than give way fur- 
 ther, it was welcomely received. Our regiment was soon 
 engaged with the Boches and we went at them with de- 
 termination in our hearts and the consciousness that we 
 were drivine: them back from our women and children. 
 
108 With the American AmhnJance in France. 
 
 The second day of the battle we were fighting in the open 
 fields at close quarters late in the afternoon. I was on 
 one knee firing" at the Germans, when a rifle ball struck 
 me near the knee and tore up my thigh. I fell over, my 
 comrades passed on and I lay out in the field in a half- 
 conscious condition. I was aroused several hours later 
 by the sound of voices, speaking German. It was dark 
 and in the distance flashes of cannon lit up the night. I 
 was carried by the Germans to the town of A'areddes, 
 near by, where I was dumped on the floor of the Mairie 
 along with many other wounded. Here I lay for three days 
 on the stone floor with some water and a few pieces of 
 bread to sustain me. I saw limbs cut off without anaes- 
 thetics. The shrieks of the sufferers were terrible. The 
 odor of my leg warned me that I was in a bad way. Sud- 
 denly, on the fourth day, the Germans departed, driven 
 out by the French. 
 
 "I was one of six wounded placed in a large truck and 
 sent to Paris. Three of us arrived there alive. We were 
 taken to a hospital. I was delirious but conscious enough 
 to hear the doctor say there was no use in amputating my 
 leg. It was too late. I roused up and begged the doctor 
 to amputate and give me the chance. He agreed. I do 
 not remember much what happened during the next few 
 weeks but I gradually recovered and in three months was 
 out of the hospital. One day, limping along on my 
 crutches, I saw a sign 'American Artificial Legs'.' I en- 
 tered the shop and made arrangements to obtain one. I 
 became interested in the construction and fitting of the 
 leg and delighted when I found I could use it so readily. 
 On account of my speaking some English the manager 
 ofifered me a position and so now I have changed from 
 a grocer into an artificial leg artisan and I have fitted 
 several hundred legs and know there will be many more." 
 
A School rcachcr's Storv. 109 
 
 A SCHOOL TEACHER'S STORY. 
 
 A reservist of the active army, I was called the second 
 day of mobilization to join my regiment. The 5th of 
 August, 1914, we departed for the eastern front. My 
 regiment formed at this time the part of the second army 
 in command of General Dubail. Our duty was to ad- 
 vance into Lorraine by Sarrebourg. The advance com- 
 menced from the 8th of August and on the 14th I found 
 myself for the first time in contact with Bavarian in- 
 fantry. It is not easy to give an exact idea of my first 
 impressions of combat. It rests in my mind like a dream 
 bordering on a nightmare. The sharp whistling of the 
 bullets, the overwhelming roar of the cannonade, the 
 cries of the wounded, the death rattle, the irresistible, 
 "En avant, a la baionnette," then the dead bodies, the 
 wounded begging to be carried ofif the field, the broken 
 guns and equipment scattered here and there, furnish a 
 picture never to be forgotten and impossible to describe 
 in words. I have seen other combats since, attacks and 
 hand to hand fighting, but they have never left the im- 
 pression on me like the first encounter. 
 
 The Bavarians had to retreat. Proud of our first suc- 
 cess we marched ahead and on the 15th of August we 
 crossed the frontier singing the "Marseillaise," with our 
 flag unfurled at the head of the regiment. The frontier 
 boundary post was torn up with general enthusiasm and 
 cries of "Vivent I'Alsace et Lorraine." Alas ! our joy was 
 a passing one. On the 16th we arrived in sight of Sarre- 
 bourg. Saluted by a hail of artillery we advanced now 
 very slowly, marching at wide intervals, while about us 
 the "Marmites" fell with a deafening noise, marking 
 their passage by large holes, veritable tombs dug by in- 
 fernal shovels. They were real tombs, because the un- 
 happy victims sleep now their last sleep in these shell 
 holes. Some troops penetrated to Sarrebourg where they 
 were feted by the inhabitants, or at least by those who 
 
110 Jl'ifh flic American Ainbiilaiicc in France. 
 
 had remained French. Flowers, cigars, cakes and wines 
 were for them gifts of welcome. These bodies of troops 
 were forced to stop at the exit of the city as the enemy 
 artillery cut them down. For my part I was busy with 
 my section in a field of oats digging individual "abris" 
 which would protect us somewhat against the balls. These 
 shelters were our dining rooms, lounging and bed rooms. 
 Smoking became a delicate operation, a wise art. As to 
 exposing oneself, it was not to be thought of. The six 
 biscuits and the can of meat called "monkey-meat" by 
 the soldiers, were all we had to eat for these two days. 
 During the night of August 18th we were able to retire 
 to a small village several kilometres from Sarrebourg, 
 where we had the pleasure of sleeping three long hours 
 on fresh piles of hay. At 2 o'clock in the morning the 
 arrival of shells in the village announced itself by a tre- 
 mendous crashing of roofs. It was necessary to retreat 
 and now the advance guard had to pass through Sarre- 
 bourg again. The German element exultingly showed 
 their satisfaction of seeing the flight of the red pantaloons 
 by firing on them from the windows with rifles and re- 
 volvers. The enemy troops pursued our advance guard 
 and inflicted considerable loss on them. Unfortunately 
 the fight was too unequal. We were overwhelmed by the 
 shells which, minute by minute, followed each other in 
 groups of six. We lacked artillery to cause similar losses 
 in the ranks of the enemy. Retreat commenced at night- 
 fall. What a turmoil! Pursued, confused, we fled on all 
 sides, not knowing where to go. We had to tramp across 
 the fields in the dark night over bad and unknown roads. 
 Miles succeeded miles. At each instant one fell over 
 exhausted soldiers sleeping in the fields or along the sides 
 of the road. These we roused or dragged along to aban- 
 don again to their fatigue sonie distance beyond. Others 
 trailed behind too far where, unhappy thought, they were 
 taken prisoners by the Boches. How many thus fell into 
 the hands of the Germans ! The 21st of August we again 
 crossed the frontier, but this time it was to return into 
 
A School 7'cachcr's Story. Ill 
 
 France. The frontier post was there, lying in the river 
 bed. It seemed to reproach ns now in waiting for the 
 Germans to replace it, to carry it further back perhaps. 
 We will take it again, we will carry back the frontier 
 post to the other side of the Rhine even if it takes our 
 last man ! 
 
 After several unsuccessful attempts to take the offensive 
 we arrived near the forts of Epinal. Our lines were re- 
 organized and we prepared to undertake a vigorous offen- 
 sive. On the 28th we drove the Germans out of a nearby 
 village while the chasseurs alpins, who had come to our 
 aid, captured another village in a furious bayonet charge. 
 There I saw, after this combat, one of our soldiers and a 
 German infantryman standing upright against a wall each 
 one of them transfixed with a bayonet and still holding 
 their muskets in spite of death which had done its work 
 some time before. 
 
 We now advanced rapidly. The Germans, not being 
 supported by their heavy artillery, were incapable of with- 
 standing our offensive. We passed through villages bom- 
 barded and burned all in ruins, not a house standing. Most 
 of them were a pile of ruins. From this debris there was 
 already a nauseating ordor of decaying animals, which 
 had not been able to get away ; of human beings too, 
 perhaps under those ruins. Early in September we 
 reached the banks of the Aleurthe. Tomorrow^ we shall 
 again be at the frontier. Alas ! Xo ! We have to make 
 a detour and go to support at St. Mihiel the shock of the 
 Crown Prince's army, which is resolutely advancing on 
 this side, while to the north our troops are drawing 
 quickly back before the German assault. It has since 
 been said that St. Mihiel and Nancy formed the pivot of 
 the maneuver. It w^as this pivot it was necessary to de- 
 fejid. Severe fighting ensued at le Grand Couronne, near 
 Nancy. Towards St. Mihiel. which w^as defended by forts, 
 there were only skirmishes. The enemy attacked the 
 forts. They launched three unsuccessful attacks against 
 the fort of Troyon. 
 
112 Jl'ltli the American Aiiibiilance in France. 
 
 We were called to aid the army at the Aisne after they 
 had driven back the Germans at the battle of the Marne. 
 We arrived at St. Menehould, then we marched to the 
 Camp of Chalons but after one stage we returned. The 
 enemy had succeeded in capturing the fort of Troyon. 
 We had to return to where we were three days before 
 and attack the Germans occupying the village of Apre- 
 mont. 
 
 In the early days of October we occupied the redoubts 
 of the fort of Lionville. There for eight days we had 
 to submit to a most violent bombardment. An entire 
 section of my company with the captain were engulfed in 
 one of the redoubts. It was impossible to rescue them. 
 After such a Ixjmbardment the enemy attacked, always 
 in compact masses according to their custom. Their 
 losses were enormous. ]\lowed down by our machine 
 guns, the heaps of corpses preserved very clearly the 
 formation of columns by fours. French and (^icrmans 
 were on the watch at 50 meters from each other. It was 
 impossible to bury the dead and. from time to time, shells 
 from both sides struck these corpses and blew them into 
 pieces. Cruel profanation. 
 
 After a month there we retired about two kilometers 
 in the rear for a rest. There I was wounded in the 
 right shoulder by a piece of shell. I was far from ex- 
 pecting such an occurrence at this time, when I thought 
 I was in safety. I was evacuated and after thirty hours 
 of cruel sufifering on the train I reached the hospital 
 where I w'as taken care of until I re])orted at my de- 
 pot. I was .soon again at the front. Now it was the war of 
 the trenches, a warfare not interesting. I remained there 
 five months without noting a single event really inter- 
 esting. I saw only one casque a point, which one was 
 that of a prisoner. From time to time an insignificant 
 bombardment, the periodical flooding of the trenches with 
 water, the digging that went on, the games of cards at 
 the bottom of a hole, the silence of the night disturbed 
 occasionall}' by a rifle shot fired by a sentinel who, strug- 
 
A School Teacher's Story. 113 
 
 gling against the desire for sleep, tries to keep himself 
 awake by shooting. Voila la guerre en tranchees. 
 Twenty days in the trenches, twenty days of repose. 
 
 The first of August, after violent pain, my wound of 
 last year broke open and discharged. I was evacuated 
 to Compiegne and from there to Juilly. At the x\merican 
 Hospital they extracted the piece of shell which for nine 
 months was for me a very troublesome guest. Now I 
 am almost well. 
 
 I would fear to offend the modesty of the doctors and 
 nurses if I set forth their merits. Let me simply say 
 that I have found among the Americans who have left 
 their land to come to France to care for their wounded 
 brothers, a devotion, vigilant attention and constant care 
 which makes me admire them and in them admire the 
 great nation, sister of France beyond the Atlantic, the 
 United States of America. 
 
 In thanking them all from the bottom of my heart, I 
 terminate my little story. 
 
 We cared for one soldier of the Foreign Legion. He 
 was an architect living in Chicago, an American of 
 French descent. There was nothing warlike in his na- 
 ture but he could not withstand the call of the blood 
 when France was invaded. 
 
114 U'itli the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 A FOREIGN LEGION SOLDIER'S STORY. 
 
 I left my home in Chicago in the middle of September, 
 
 1914. and boarded the French Hner "Rochambeau" at 
 New York. .Vfter an uneventful trip of nine days I 
 landed at Havre, where I enlisted in the Foreign Legion. 
 
 The Foreign Leg'ion now serving" in the war against 
 Germany has little in common with the two world famous 
 regiments stationed in Algeria. While most of our 
 ofificers were drawn from those regiments only two bat- 
 talions were sent out from Africa to "encadrer" the 
 foreign volunteers. The remainder were either kept in 
 Algeria and Morocco or sent to the Dardanelles or to 
 some distant colony like Indo-China. 
 
 In order to train the foreign volunteers six depots were 
 provided. The second regiment had three depots — 
 Toulouse, Orleans and Blois. I was sent to Toulouse 
 where battalion C was being organized and two days 
 after my arrival I witnessed the departure of that bat- 
 talion for the front. A very picturescjue sight it was to 
 see them go. all brave hearts, ready to sacrifice them- 
 selves for the cause of France. Each of them was flying 
 on his knapsack the colors of his respective country. 
 L'ncle Sam was represented by a good sprinkling of the 
 Stars and Stripes lost amidst a greater number of Rus- 
 sian, English, Belgian and other flags. 
 
 After a two months' hard drilling, the depot was trans- 
 ferred to Orleans and I stayed there until January 25, 
 
 1915. I was then ordered to the front with a reinforce- 
 ment 200 strong. 
 
 Our regiment with four battalions occupied a front 
 abotit two miles long before the plateau of Craonne and 
 the ruined city of that name, where the Germans are 
 so strongly fortified that its capture would cost at least 
 50,000 men. 
 
 I soon got acquainted with the routine of the service. 
 Six days trenches, six days rest. The part of our sector 
 
A foreign Legion Soldier's Story. 115 
 
 occupied by our company was about 1000 yards from 
 the Germans and was therefore a quiet one. It would 
 have been even more so, had it not been for the artillery 
 of the Germans which daily showered on us fire and 
 steel. No event of any importance occurred during my 
 four months' stay there except the trial by court-martial 
 of nine Russians who refused to go to the trenches. 
 Found guilty, they were executed the next day at dawn. 
 There I came to know the real "Legionnaire" by which 
 I mean the one from Africa. The following verses which 
 
 I plagiarize from the comic opera "Les Mousquetaires au 
 Convent" quite well typifies them. I only substitute the 
 word "Legionnaire" for "Mousquetaire :" 
 
 Pour etre un brave Legionnaire 
 
 II faut avoir I'esprit joyeux 
 Grand air et leger caractere 
 
 Aimer les femmes, boire encore mieux. 
 
 But good fellows after all and ready to help when sober. 
 
 We left Craonne in May and were sent to Sillery, a 
 very bad place, where the battalion lost 150 men in one 
 week. We were then shifted over to a place near Rheims 
 and in July were sent to rest in the neighborhood of 
 Belfort. 
 
 President Poincare and General Joffre came to review 
 us and we were presented with a Hag which was well 
 earned by ten months of warfare. 
 
 After a short time in x\lsace, where I got a sight of 
 the famous Hartmannwillerskopf of which so much has 
 been written, we were ordered to Champagne with the 
 whole Moroccan division, of which we were a part, and 
 on the 25th of September took an active part in the 
 general offensive. 
 
 On the 26th while entrenched on the jilain in front 
 of the "Ferme Navarin" as reserve of the 6th Army 
 Corps, I volunteered in the midst of bursting shells to 
 go and get some water for my squad. On my return I 
 was struck by a shell which fractured my femur, missing 
 the femoral artery by only a hair. Carried away from 
 
116 JJl't/j the America)! Ambulance in France. 
 
 the field of battle to Souain I spent the night on a stretcher 
 suffering- with a terrible fever while the rain poured 
 down. The next day the motor ambulance took me to 
 Chalons and from there I was sent to the ambulance at 
 Juilly where I found myself again in America. Thanks 
 to the good care which I received my wounds soon healed 
 up and the bone united so that I will be able to walk as 
 well as ever. 
 
 To the end of the offensive the Legion, faithful to its 
 glorious past, distinguished itself Init was almost wiped 
 out. The original number has very much dwindled and 
 only one regiment is left under the name of Regiment 
 de marche de la Legion Etrangere but it is as eager to 
 fight and die for the cause of Right and Justice as it 
 was on the first day of the war. 
 
 One of our blesses was a little rag picker. He was 
 always smiling, so someone named him "Sunny Jim" and 
 the name clung to him. As his comrades adopted the 
 name the little poilu became proud of it and signed hiiu- 
 self your grateful "Sanidaime." A German bullet had 
 gone through his temple cutting the optk nerve of one 
 eye but "Sunny Jim" was happy that he had one good 
 eye. 
 
 After a few days our little poilu tt)ld us about his 
 experiences in the Champagne offensives. 
 
Sunny Jim's Story. 11/ 
 
 SUNNY JIM'S STORY. 
 
 "At three o'clock the morning- of September 25th, we 
 left our camp for the 'tranchees de depart.' At five 
 o'clock we arrived at our destination. There was a ter- 
 rific bombardment going on. We filled our musettes 
 with grenades. The news soon circulated in the trench 
 that we would attack at a quarter past nine. The time 
 passed as we sat quietly on the floor of the trench wait- 
 ing for the opportunity to measure ourselves with the 
 cursed Boches. At nine o'clock we stood ready. At 
 nine ten we fixed bayonets. Suddenly a short order 
 spread down the line. We sprang over the edge and 
 crossed the barbed wire. As far as we could see on 
 each side of us were our comrades running forward. 
 This gave us courage. We arrived at the first line. There 
 was not a live German there, only dead ones. Our artil- 
 lery fire had destroyed the trench and we could see arms 
 and legs sticking out of the earth. Some of our soldiers 
 began to fall but we kept on and passed the second and 
 third trenches which were as badly battered as the first. 
 Then out in the open, bullets began to arrive in great 
 numbers, also shells, but we kept on. Suddenly we came 
 across a strong force of the enemy. Now it was time to 
 know how to use the bayonet. We threw ourselves on 
 them and the combat was on. a terrible melee. Steel 
 met steel, and steel was driven into flesh until the Ger- 
 mans gave way and retreated. But we did not give them 
 time to get away. Just as we had advanced about a 
 hundred metres a ball struck me in the head and laid me 
 out senseless. I fell into the ditch along the roadside. 
 I lay there twenty-four hours regaining consciousness 
 several times only to faint away again. Finally during 
 the night I came to myself. I was tortured by thirst. I 
 had two bidons of water with me but I was too weak to 
 raise myself. The next day stretcher bearers passed by 
 and saw us. I was not alone, as a dead comrade lay 
 
118 With the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 alongside of me. They looked at us but thinking us both 
 dead they were about to go on when I collected my forces 
 sufficiently to cry out for something to drink. They then 
 picked me up and carried me to Souain where I received 
 the first dressing. From there I was taken to Chalons 
 and after three days I was sent to Juilly. It will be 
 with regret that I will quit this hospital for which I shall 
 always have a pleasant and ineffaceable memory." 
 
 THE CHASSEUR'S STORY. 
 
 I was m()l)ilized the second of August. 1914. As soon 
 as I arrived at my depot, we were sent to join the active 
 forces in Belgium. We crossed the Belgian frontier on 
 August 12th. and continued to Charleroi where the little 
 Belgian soldiers fought like lions against the Boches but 
 unfortunately we arrived too late and the retreat com- 
 menced. 
 
 The retreat was in good order. At one time we were 
 the advance guard, clearing the road in order to avoid 
 ambuscades, at other times we were the rear guard, pro- 
 tecting the retreat of our brothers in arms. 
 
 The first serious combat that I took part in was at Moy, 
 a village between la Fere and St. Quentin. From seven 
 in the morning to six at night we held the Germans, 
 although we were inferior in nunil)er. Finally over- 
 whelmed by numbers we had to retreat again in the 
 direction of la Fere. We marched two days and two 
 nights without halting and crossed the forest of Nouvion, 
 which was full of Boche ambuscades. At the exit of 
 this forest a detachment of English troops joined with 
 us and on September 2nd the I'aris autobuses picked us 
 up and transported us to Xanteuil le Haudoin. 
 
 On September 6th we received the order of the com- 
 mander in chief calling on us to hold our ground and to 
 
TJic Chasseur's Story. 119 
 
 die rather than give way. The combat commenced on 
 the sixth, about seven o'clock in the morning — a terrible 
 struggle for three days and nights, when on the ninth 
 of September the Boches began to waver in their re- 
 sistance. That was a good augury for us and we re- 
 doubled our efforts, which brought about the retreat of 
 the Germans. The pursuit commenced and continued to 
 Chateau Thierry. There we had a rest of twenty-four 
 hours and there we had the pleasure of cleaning up at 
 least two hundred Germans whom we found in the cellars 
 dead drunk on champagne, their favorite drink. 
 
 We were then carried by taxi-cabs to a village near 
 Soissons, where we did not have much trouble in driving- 
 out the enemy, as they were on the run. In spite of that 
 many corpses were strewn over the ground. 
 
 The German retreat continued to Berry au Bac, where 
 I was wounded in the right shoulder by two bullets from 
 a machine gun. I lay on the ground under fire of the 
 enemy's artillery until night fall, when I reached a vil- 
 lage, whence I was transported in a camion to the rail- 
 road station, where I met a number of other wounded. 
 We piled into freight cars and reached the hospital at 
 Dinan after thirty-six hours. 
 
 In six weeks I was back at the front. I rejoined my 
 battali(^n on the heights of the Meuse. It was now the 
 war of the trenches. The winter was not an unhappy 
 one. There were not many attacks made or received. 
 Each side saved his forces for the spring. 
 
 On the thirteenth of February the order was given to 
 attack the crest of Eparges and we drove l)ack the 
 Boches to their last line of trenches, fighting with gre- 
 nades, rifle buts and even with our fists. We were for- 
 tunate in not losing many men and our attack exceeded 
 the expectations of our chiefs. Half of the crest was 
 now in our possession. On the ninth of March we at- 
 tacked again to take the rest. The attack was admirably 
 carried out. Our artillery belched forth a storm of shells 
 and the Boches drew back. After three days of fighting 
 
120 JJ'ith the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 all the crest was in our hands save one position, the 
 point X. 
 
 In spite of the enemy's counter attacks we remained 
 masters of the crest although the enemy counter at- 
 tacked seventeen times during the next twenty-four 
 hours. Our losses in repulsing these counter attacks 
 were heavy. In front of our trenches there was a veri- 
 table charnel house where our dead and the enemy's were 
 piled up high. 
 
 On April 6th and 7th we again attacked the position 
 X, and after a series of assaults the Bodies were driven 
 down the hill with heavy losses. Our commandant was 
 killed by a bah in the forehead and shortly afterwards I 
 was wounded by a piece of sheh in the left shoulder. I 
 did not see the end of the combat, as I was evacuated by 
 an ambulance to the rear to Dugny. where I spent three 
 weeks in the hospital. 
 
 On the first of August we were given a "repos" of 
 forty-five days near Bar le Due. How delicious it was. 
 especialh- in August. Soldiers, civilians, women and 
 children — everyone worked at reaping the harvest and 
 housing the crops. 
 
 On SeptemlxM- 10th we marched to the Champagne 
 front and on the morning of the 25th we took part in 
 the ofifensive. The terrain, swept by artillery fire, was 
 prepared for us, the troops leaped over the parapet and 
 we took the two first lines of the enemy's trenches, 
 scarcely firing a shot. The artillery had well done its 
 work. 
 
 The same day we attacked the second reserve, the last 
 German lines. This terrible combat lasted all day. and 
 in spite of heavy k)sses, we broke through their defenses 
 and pursued them in the open. At dusk the rain began 
 to fall and hindered our advance. We lay out in the mud 
 all night, hastily fortifying the ground we had taken, and 
 the rain never ceased to fall. What an anxious night 
 amid the groans of the wounded and dying and we 
 working: in the rain with sad hearts. 
 
The Chasseur's Story. 121 
 
 Our patrols sent on in advance reported that the 
 Boches were being reinforced and were fortifying- them- 
 selves feverishly. At dawn we advanced again. Our 
 captain was killed by a ball in the ear, the lieutenant was 
 struck by a shell and the two sergeants, brave and good 
 comrades, were killed on each side of me. As hardly any 
 officers were left I was obliged to take command of our 
 section as we were to attack the little fort of the bois 
 Sal3ot. 
 
 It was no small undertaking to take this fortress, as it 
 was defended by at least two hundred machine guns, 
 which did not cease to sweep the ground. The soil was 
 well covered with dead and wounded. For two hours we 
 lay flat on the ground under a storm of bullets until our 
 colonel gave the order to take this redoubt at any price. 
 At this moment and as one man the two battalions rose 
 and charged forward and after an hour or more of bay- 
 onet and grenade fighting we were masters of this fort. 
 As booty we captured two hundred machine guns, two 
 trench mortars, a pump for liquid fire and two appara- 
 tus for asphyxiating gas, besides a quantity of ammu- 
 nition, rifles, grenades and other equipment. 
 
 Our battalion flag was cited in the Order of the Armies 
 and proposed for the Legion of Honor. 
 
 The same night we were relieved by a battalion of 
 Chasseurs, who continued the attack. During our return 
 to the rear the Boches bombarded us with gas shells. I 
 was wounded in the head by three pieces of shell, and I 
 was almost asphyxiated by the gas that I inhaled. How 
 long I lay on the ground I can't say. Two hours at least 
 or perhaps less. When I came to myself I perceived a 
 feeble light in the distance to whicli T directed myself, 
 and had the good fortune to fall on to a "poste de se- 
 cours," where my wounds were dressed. From there I 
 was sent to Suippes, where I was placed on a sanitary 
 train and sent to a hospital at La Rochelle. 
 
 After my wounds were healed. I reported at my depot 
 
122 //'//// tl\c American Auihitlancc in France 
 
 whence I was sent to a section on the Pas-de-Calais, a 
 rather quiet part of the hne. 
 
 During- a month's time we were on more or less good 
 terms with the Bavarians opposite us and exchanged 
 hread. chocolate, cig-ars and cigarettes until the Bava- 
 rians were relieved by a detachment of the Imperial 
 Guard. The Prussians blew up seven mines under the 
 trench where my company was stationed and Ijuried all 
 but eight of m\- company. Completely dazed, we joined 
 ourselves to a small group of bombardiers of another 
 company and we retook from the Boches 80 metres of 
 trench by grenade fighting. 
 
 After being- relieved from our position we had a short 
 rest before we were ordered to X'erdun. 
 
 For nine da}s in the first line the Boches attacked us 
 twelve times with gas and li<[uid fire. These attacks 
 with massed troops cost the Germans enormous losses. 
 Our losses were heav\- enough from the bombardment of 
 cannon of all calibres, a bombardment never ceasing day 
 and night. How many of my comrades lie there about 
 our positions, still in death! It was a frightful sight to 
 see, the dead heaped up in piles, dead horses, and pieces 
 of caissons and cannon strewn around. 
 
 Our trenches were continually damaged by the explo- 
 sion of "marmites" and for nine days and nights we had 
 little rest. We were always engaged in watching the 
 enemy day and night and in repairing the damage done 
 to our trenches. 
 
 On the tenth day we were relieved from the first line to 
 positions further back, where we were held in reserve, but 
 there the "marmites"" continually fell. 1 became an 
 "agent de liaison'" and carried orders from the Colonel 
 of the lirigade. I carried on this duty for eight days, 
 when I was wounded by a German shell in both legs, right 
 hand and back. 1 was carried to the poste de secours, 
 where I fainted. When I came to myself they lifted me 
 into an American automobile having on its side a plate 
 inscribed "don de la Societe Hotchkiss." This car car- 
 
A Trip to the front. 123 
 
 ried me to Revigny and from there I was evacuated to 
 the American Ambulance of Juilly, where I recognized 
 the driver wdio had carried me to Revigny. 
 
 I can only render homage to the doctors and nurses 
 who have surrounded me with such g-ood care during 
 my stay here. Homage to America, our Sister Re- 
 pubHc ! 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A TRIP TO THE FROXT. 
 
 The land of the trenches always seemed a land of mys- 
 terv to us. The tooming of the cannon every day told 
 us where the trenches lay. hut a nearer acquaintance 
 with the front was well nigh impossible for a non-com- 
 batant. Everyone in the ambulance had his or her place 
 assigned and was not expected to step out of it. As time 
 passed restrictions became more stringent. Each one of 
 us was supplied with a "carnet d'etranger" which con- 
 tained our photograph and signature and specific direc- 
 tions as to all movements in the war zone and this took 
 had to be shown on going to Paris and returning by train. 
 Our friends at Neuilly in the earlier months could visit 
 us by procuring a pass following a week's application. 
 Later this was shut down on and it was extremely diffi- 
 cult to obtain permission to go to Juilly. The authorities 
 could not afiford to have Americans or anyone else run- 
 ning around in the war zone. 
 
 In the early months of the war it was perhaps feasi- 
 ble for some of the American surgeons to visit the front, 
 but in our time the matter was so difficult that it was not 
 even attempted. 
 
 However, I reasoned that, having worked a year for 
 the French wounded, I might be entitled to a trip to the 
 front as a sort of recompense. Then, too, having come 
 
124 JJlth the Aiiicricaii Auibidancc in France. 
 
 from such a far distance and being so near the front for 
 so many months, the regret of missing this experience 
 would always be a keen one. It would do no harm to 
 try, so forthwith a letter was written to the Surgeon 
 General at Headquarters requesting permission. A 
 courteous reply was received in a few days enclosing a 
 pass to Chalons, either by rail or auto. I chose the latter 
 in order to see more of the country and to be more in- 
 dependent. 
 
 Early on a sunn)- morning in June I started with Fa- 
 brice, our Italian chauffeur, in the Aledecin-Chef's lim- 
 ousine. We took the well-known road to Meaux along 
 an edge of the Marne battlefield. Leaving Meaux with 
 its picturesque old mills in the river and its venerable 
 cathedral we passed through beautiful woods until we 
 reached La Ferte Jouarre, where we crossed the Marne. 
 
 Near Napoleon's monument on the outskirts of Mont- 
 mirail our trip nearly ended disastrously for we discov- 
 ered that the car was on fire. The hot gases emerging 
 from a hole in the muffler had ignited the oil-soaked 
 wood work and one side of the car was blazing merrily. 
 After tearing out the loose boards, waste, rags, extra 
 tubes and inflammable material and hurling them out of 
 the way, we tried in vain to beat out the fire with our 
 overcoats. If it had not been for some water in a wheel 
 rut near by, our trip would have ended then and there 
 and our car would have been reduced to cinders and 
 scrap iron. The kindly shade of an elm tree kept the 
 water from drying up by the sun's rays. Our ca]:)s an- 
 swered for fire buckets to get the fire under control, and 
 a peasant with a bucket of water did the rest. Just at 
 that time a military car came along at a great rate of 
 speed, its wheels grinding into the very rut which had 
 been our salvation. Another remarkable thing was that 
 along all the 125 kilometres that we did that day nc 
 other rut with water in it was seen. We thanked our 
 lucky star that the fire had not reached the gasolene tank, 
 crawled into Montmirail with a careful watch alongside 
 
A Trip to the front. 125 
 
 and, after some delay, found a mechanic who made the 
 necessary repairs. 
 
 From there on to Chalons the road ran straight as an 
 arrow and smooth as a billiard table — the kind of road 
 one reads about in novels but hardly expects to ever 
 enjoy. Red poppies mingled with the blue of the corn 
 flower, grew in profusion, and only needed the white 
 shine of the road to complete the tricolor. 
 
 No other accident stopped us, but we were halted at 
 every railroad crossing by Territorials who examined our 
 pass in a critical manner. 
 
 Chalons is famous historically for the defeat of Attila, 
 the Hun, by the Romans and Goths in 451 A. D. The 
 town was full of bustle and excitement for it is a great 
 army center. The principal hotel with the strange name 
 of L'hotel Haute Mere Dieu, was full of officers at lunch 
 time, and I managed to find an inconspicuous place in the 
 dining room. It was an interesting sight to watch the 
 officers of different types, from stout, white-haired gen- 
 erals to young dapper lieutenants. I thought 1 was the 
 only American for miles around until I ran into A. Piatt 
 Andrews, Director of the Field Ambulance Service, who 
 was taking Will Irwin and x\rthur Gleason to write up 
 an American Field Service section for the instruction 
 of the American public. 
 
 According to my instructions, I presented my creden- 
 tials at the Service de Sante, and was courteously re- 
 ceived by General Bechard, and a fine limousine was 
 placed at my disposal with a colonel of the medical 
 service as my conductor. 
 
 The General mapped out a plan of a three days' visit 
 to the hospitals of Chalons and field hospitals toward the 
 front and then asked if there was anything more he 
 could do for me. I replied that "I wanted very much to 
 go to the trenches." "Ah," he said, "that is a military 
 matter and you can only obtain permission from military 
 headquarters." This advice was not encouraging but 
 was enlightening. So for the present there was nothing 
 
126 ll'iih the American Ainbiikmcc in Prance. 
 
 to do but enjoy the many interesting" things to see and 
 reserve a tri]) to the trenches for the dernier coup. 
 
 As Chalons is an important mihtary center there are 
 a large number of hospitals there, admirably organized 
 and equipped. Among the number of hospitals visited 
 was one for mental cases — for brains unbalanced by the 
 strain of war. There were a variety of types of mental 
 aberration — manias, melancholies, delusions fixed and 
 fleeting, mutism in different forms. It was sad indeed 
 to see what war had done ti) these young minds, but 
 with it all there was hope that time, rest and quiet would 
 work an improvement. There was not the hopeless de- 
 pression one feels on entering a ward of blind soldiers. 
 
 A book could l;e written on the different phases of 
 mental disorders caused by this warfare. I shall merely 
 relate the features of the curious case of a young artist. 
 He was a well-dressed, trim young chap and whenever he 
 saw any button unbuttoned, he took it on himself to but- 
 ton it. lie never si)oke a word and apparently di<l not 
 hear anything, as he paid no attention to noises or to 
 anything that was said to him. For annisement he 
 painted pretty little views of the hospital garden or fan- 
 ciful scenes of meadows, streams and willow trees. All 
 efforts to get him to write his name or initials on any 
 of his paintings failed. Curious that a mind that could 
 produce a painting faithful to nature, should lose its 
 identity to the extent of being unable to claim the author- 
 ship. 
 
 East of Chalons towards the front at varying inter- 
 vals about 12 miles back of the trenches are located a 
 numlier of ambulances which we visited. These field 
 hospitals are a series of low, wooden buildings located 
 usually in some hollow and further hidden from hostile 
 aviators by branches of trees placed on the roofs. Here 
 the wounded are received directly by automobile from 
 the Postes de Secours or dressing stations. There are 
 also bathino- establishments where a resfiment can be 
 
A Trip to the Front. 127 
 
 cleaned up in a clay. The soldiers get a hot shower bath 
 and a hair cut and have their clothes fumigated. 
 
 Beautifying the field hospitals are well kept flower 
 gardens. Ihere are band stands for occasional concerts, 
 and reading rooms and small theatres are provided for the 
 poilus. Near the entrance to one of the buildings was 
 a large hole made by a bomb dropped a few days ago by 
 a hostile aviator. Close at hand is always the little ceme- 
 tery with the graves close together marked by white 
 crosses. One of the ambulances occupies an old farm, 
 and its old stone buildings, stables and box-stalls have 
 been converted into a well equipped institution. 
 
 Of special interest was an automobile field hospital. 
 This was well equipped and so arranged that everything 
 could be packed in trucks and moved to any desired loca- 
 tion. Electricity was furnished by a dynamo run by a 
 truck engine and the X-ray apparatus was similarly sup- 
 plied. 
 
 All these sights were very interesting but the prox- 
 imity to the trenches made me all the more anxious to 
 visit them. I interviewed my conductor on the subject 
 and asked him why I couldn't get permission to go. He 
 said "Because we don't want a shell to come along and 
 take your head off." He added that he had not been to 
 the trenches himself as the work there is done by the 
 younger men. I then asked him if he would go to the 
 Ouartier-General and ask permission for me. I le po- 
 litely told me he would introduce me, but would rather 
 that I spoke for myself. To my complaint that I could 
 hardly speak French well enough to address a general 
 he smiled and said that I could make myself well under- 
 stood. I then prepared my speech and rehearsed it to the 
 colonel on our way to headquarters. When we arrived 
 at General Gouraud's Etat Major we were formally sa- 
 luted by the sentinel on duty as we entered the modest 
 brick building. We received word that General Gouraud 
 was absent but that his Chief of Staff would see us. An 
 orderly, after a short wait, ushered us into a plainly fur- 
 
128 JJlth the American Ainbiilaiicc in France. 
 
 nished room, the walls covered with maps, where we were 
 received by the Chief of Staff, an elderly, dignified man. 
 After being introduced by the Colonel I made my speech 
 and thanks to my preparation got through it quite well. 
 The General Hstened seriously to what I had to say and 
 then told me that he would present my request to the 
 Commanding General, who alone could give the necessary 
 permission. An answer would be sent me to the hotel. 
 That night about half-past nine, as I was sitting in the 
 hotel dining room chatting with some officers, a soldier 
 entered and presented me with a letter by hand, as he 
 was instructed. I almost hesitated to open the letter, feel- 
 ing sure that my request would meet a polite refusal. 
 However, much to my joy the letter said that Capt. 
 
 would have the honor to call for me at half-past 
 
 seven the next morning. 
 
 The next day was one of the most exciting of my life. 
 The excitement started in at five o'clock in the morning 
 when I was awakened by the noise of cannon rattling the 
 window frames. 1 ran to the window and looked out 
 and there, racing across the clear, blue sky, was a tiny 
 black object. The cannon were firing at it and making 
 the peculiar hollow sound they make when shooting in 
 the air. The shells were exploding with their decisive 
 little pop around the Taube and at once the rounded, 
 white clouds appeared near the aeroplane. 1 counted 
 twenty-seven of these rounded clouds, forming a track 
 across the clear, blue heaven, but none of the shells hit 
 the Taube, although they seemed to come very close to it. 
 It was an interesting and spectacular sight. Three 
 bombs were dropped by the German but did little dam- 
 age. However, previous attempts had been more suc- 
 cessful. On the main street near the hotel were the ruins 
 of a house completely demolished by a bomb. Another 
 bomb had dropped in the street in front of the cathe- 
 dral and had broken some of the stained glass windows 
 and peppered the walls of the adjacent buildings. 
 
 Long before half past seven I was walking up and 
 
A Trip to the Front. 129 
 
 down before the hotel. Jnst at the hour a loni^-. rakish, 
 military car drove up and a trim officer jumped out and 
 we introduced ourselves with the usual formahties. 
 
 In company witli several officers we started off at a 
 great rate of speed due North. One of the first things I 
 noticed was a Winchester rifie straj^ped to the back of 
 the front seat. On the outskirts of Chalons we were 
 stopped by sentinels and our pass carefully scrutinized. 
 Five miles from Chalons we came to the village of Le- 
 pine, completely burned by the Germans in their retreat 
 after the battle of the Marne, with the exception of the 
 remarkably beautiful church. 
 
 From there on a scene of great activity prevailed. We 
 passed companies of troops coming- back from the 
 trenches — tired and dusty poilus. There were vehicles of 
 most every description passing along the road — great 
 ammunition camions, motor trucks laden with supplies, 
 army wagons, cannon, armored cars, movable kitchens, 
 water carts, motor cyclists and even a special motor 
 truck for a carrier pigeon equipment. Along the road 
 were well arranged water stations where the wants of 
 man and beast could be supplied. From time to time we 
 [)assed forges, where horses and mules were being shod 
 and broken wagons and artillery carriages were being- 
 repaired. I wondered how the road stood all the traffic 
 and was in such good condition until I saw several gangs 
 of soldiers busily engaged in keeping it in repair. The 
 little villages near the road were full of soldiers, resting, 
 washing- their clothes, reading, talking and smoking. 
 The activity of ])roviding for a great army was every- 
 where apparent. There were great piles of hay along the 
 roadside, stacks of timber ready for the trenches, barbed 
 wire rolls heaped up in great piles, rows of shells, boxes 
 of many kinds of stores. Away off in a corral was a 
 herd of cattle which was to supply the army with fresh 
 beef. Military cars passed us going at a great rate of 
 speed and throwing up clouds of dust. Occasionally we 
 met detachments of cavalry. 
 
130 /['//// tJic American Ambulance in France. 
 
 As we sped on our route over the thirty-five kilometres 
 that separate Chalons from the front, we began to hear 
 cannon boom in the distance ahead of us. A huge captive 
 balloon, shaped like a sausage, could be seen miles away 
 over the plateau. I knew it was huge, because although it 
 was very high up, it looked enormous. I asked if it was 
 French and was told that it was a German balloon over the 
 German trenches but some distance back. This was my 
 first sight of the German side and the reality of things be- 
 gan to be impressive. Off on the left towards Rheims 
 three "saucissons" indicated to us where the French lines 
 were. At the rapid rate of speed we travelled, we soon 
 reached a little village sheltered behind a hill, where we 
 dismounted from our automobile. 1 1 ere we were received 
 by the Major in cliarge and were equipped with steel 
 helmets and masks. 1 asked if these things were neces- 
 sary and was informed that there was no telling where 
 a shell would burst and, as for the masks, the gas would 
 travel five or six kilometres if the wind was favorable. 
 There was some ditKicult\' in finding a casque large 
 enough to fit me. Finally after trying several, one was 
 found which made a fair fit. but I found it heavy and 
 uncomfortable. However, 1 was very glad to wear it. 
 The gas mask was enclosed in a tin box and this I se- 
 curely fastened to my belt. Thus equipped we started for 
 Suippes, a short distance away. As we came in shell 
 range and saw the freshly made shell-holes and heard the 
 cannon's noise, now very loud. I nuist own to a feeling 
 of fear, and I believe that the man who says he has no 
 fear when he goes under tire for the first time is a liar. 
 At the same time along with the fear there was a feeling 
 of exhilaration and a desire to see it through. 
 
 We dashed through what was once the prosperous town 
 of Suippes, now badly battered by shell fire and deserted. 
 The only person to be seen on the k)ng main street was 
 a priest hurrying along on foot. He was clad in a black 
 cassock and had a steel helmet on his head. We stopped 
 on the outskirts of Suippes at a small chateau hidden in 
 
132 With flic American Ambiilaiicc in fnincc. 
 
 a grove of woods. Needless to say this was used as a 
 hospital for badly wounded men, too liadly damaged to 
 stand further transportation. The cellar of the building- 
 was in readiness to be used in case the boml^ardment be- 
 came dangerous. The Medecin-Chef received us cor- 
 dially, and served champagne, tea and cakes in the gar- 
 den, lie said that an hour before two German shells had 
 passed over the trees and fallen in the fields on the other 
 side of the garden. The cannon at three miles from the 
 trenches sounded |)rett_\- loud to me, but no one seemed in 
 the least concerned. The officers chatted over their re- 
 freshments and asked me questions about the American 
 Ambulance. T heard two officers having an animated 
 discussion and thought that it nuist be news of a (icrman 
 attack ahead of us, or at least an account of a trench 
 raid. When 1 listened to what they said 1 was relieved 
 and perhaps disappointed to learn that they were dis- 
 cussing the merits of an aria of a recent opera ! 
 
 In one of Gouverneur .Morris' writings he brings out 
 the attitude of the b'rench soldiers to danger as illus- 
 trated by Dumas' famous character Athos. lie m;iy be 
 excitable over the ordinary episodes of life, Imt when 
 real danger comes his nerves are like cold steel. And 
 so it seemed to me on my visit to the front. The ex- 
 pressed vivacit}' of the commonplace existence is replaced 
 by a calmness and determination of spirit as danger is 
 approached. It seemed as if every man from the day he 
 was mobilized had devoted his life to his country and 
 every day that he was spared meant one more day of 
 grace. If death came, as it surely would to many of 
 them, it would find them calm and readw 
 
 After thanking our host for his hospitality, we climbed 
 into another automobile which was protected to the ex- 
 tent of being roofed over and covered in on all sides with 
 little windows in the walls. As we passed out of Suippes 
 it was reassuring to see the peasants gathering their crops 
 within shell-fire range. The road now ran straight as 
 a die for the North. The roadway, partly lined with trees, 
 
A Trip to the front. 133 
 
 some of them smashed by shells, was narrow and de- 
 serted. Between the tree trunks wires had been strung- 
 and interwoven with cut branches which partially hid 
 from the enemy's vision any body of troops or vehicles. 
 'My eyes were glued to the little window and what I could 
 see through the narrow aperture and through rifts in 
 the protective barriers of branches looked something like 
 this : 
 
 The great plain of Champagne stretched out before us. 
 On the left the mountains of Rheims appeared in the 
 distance. On the right the plateau stretched off into 
 space as far as the eye could see. The country was al- 
 most flat. There were low rises of ground, hardly to be 
 called hills. There was not a sign of a living thing ex- 
 cept for one weary looking poilu, who was resting with 
 his back against a tree along the wayside. Not a house 
 or a tree was standing in the distance. The whole coun- 
 try looked as if it had been clawed by some immense 
 giant in his rage. There were lines of trenches running 
 in bewildering directions, barbed wire entanglements, 
 great shell-holes. A little grass grew here and there — 
 the rest was the grayish white clay of Champagne. Our 
 car lost no time in covering the three miles, and before 
 I realized where we were, we passed through the ruined 
 village of vSouain and stopped behind a protecting bank. 
 Right at hand in tlie bank was a doorway and stairs 
 leading to a "Poste dc Secours." The Aledecin-Chef re- 
 ceived us and proudly showed us his subterranean hos- 
 pital. It was more than a dressing station. Tt was a 
 hospital where badly wounded men, especially abdominal 
 cases, could be operated on right away without the dam- 
 age of transiX)rtation and loss of precious time. The 
 Major had a right to be proud of his institution, as it was 
 splendid in every way. Deep in the earth, well protected 
 from shells, were a series of corridors with rooms lead- 
 ing off from them with cement floors, walls of wood 
 lined with tin painted white, and lighted by electricity and 
 acetylene gas. There were operating rooms, X-ray room, 
 
134 [['//// the American Aiiibiilaiicc in France. 
 
 wards for patients, kitchen and store rooms, all complete. 
 Here the wounded are carried, walk or crawl from the 
 firing trench by connecting- trenches called "boyaux." 
 Wounded that can be transported are sent to the rear 
 by night in automobiles over the same road we had come. 
 Dinner was being cooked when we arrived. The stove 
 was large and burned charcoal, the fumes making their 
 exit by a pipe leading through the roof and ending at 
 the ground level. Charcoal gives no smoke and tells no 
 tales. The night before as they were finishing some of 
 the construction, two shells dropped near the entrance, 
 the noise of the hammers having indicated the position 
 sufficiently. 
 
 A fine spring of clear water was within easy reach of 
 the entrance. Towards the rear was all that was left 
 of the village of Souain. It was simply a disordered 
 mass of stones in hopeless confusion, a relic of the great 
 offensive in September, 1915. 
 
 When we climbed up on top of the bank along side 
 the entrance and looked ahead we saw, 1200 metres 
 away, a curving white line extending across the crest of 
 a little rise in a wavy outline. This was the first line of 
 German trenches. The French first line, nearer to us, 
 showed the same white curved line — white because all the 
 soil is a whitish clay. The "boyaux," also curving, led 
 down to our station. As far as the eye could see the ter- 
 rain was hopelessly clawed by pick and shovel and torn by 
 shell explosions. A few stumps of trees remained here 
 and there. There were booms of cannon at irregular 
 intervals — French 7S and 105 and German 105. It was 
 fascinating and thrilling. The day was bright and clear 
 without a breath of air stirring, and between the cannon 
 shots there was a death-like silence. One knew tiiat 
 within the range of vision there were thousands of men 
 standing in those lines of trenches extended before us 
 and which stretched over 500 miles long from the Swiss 
 frontier to the North Sea. Yet there was not a sign of 
 life movement, and had it not been for the unceasin" 
 
A 7^ rip to the Front. 135 
 
 explosions of the cannon one might have had the same 
 feeling of solitude as when looking over the barren old 
 lava flows of Hawaii. The artillery, so carefully hidden 
 that it could not be seen at all, added to the mystery of 
 it all. The earth and rocks thrown into the air by the 
 shell explosions was the only sign of movement. As we 
 looked out at the scene which to me was most fascinating 
 and thought-producing, a cannon suddenly banged — it 
 seemed right behind us. I looked around and could see 
 nothing but the ruined village. They told me it was a 
 soixante-quinze hidden in the ruins, but there was noth- 
 ing to be seen of men, camion or smoke. It seemed like 
 a polite invitation to get down which we did at once. 
 
 Just then the (jerman camion started up furiously with 
 a dififerent tone. "They are shooting at an aeroplane," 
 said an officer without looking up. Sure enough, away 
 up over the lines, was a French aeroplane with shells 
 bursting around it. It seemed as if it must l)e struck. 
 but it was not and sailed majestically back to the rear. 
 
 It had come time to depart but I did not want to leave. 
 I was fascinated and at the same time bewildered. T 
 wanted more time to take it all in and com])rehen(l it. 
 This was War as I had never seen it. For a year in 
 hospitals I had cared for wounded, torn by shells and 
 bullets, but here was where men were killed and lay 
 unburied and rotted in the sunshine. A magnificent test 
 of courage to stand up and face the foe with shells burst- 
 ing and death hovering everywhere, Init wli\- should 
 there be war? .V curse on those who were res])()nsil)le 
 for it! 
 
 We thanked our host, climbed into our car and went 
 back by the road we had come, past the ruined village, 
 past the poilu still resting with his back against a tree. 
 My eyes were glued to the small window as I looked out 
 on the vast scene of desolation and thought of the brave 
 lioys lined up there in the trenches and of their mothers, 
 wives and sweethearts anxious in their homes throughout 
 the land. War seemed an unholy and wicked thing to me. 
 
136 //■//// ///(' .hiicricaii Ambulance in I'rancc. 
 
 The sound of the cannon grachially became (hmmer 
 until as we approached Chalons we could hear it no more 
 and our visit to the trenches was only a very vivid 
 memorx'. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 LEAMNG FRANCE AXD HOME AGAIX. 
 
 After a year's work amoni;- the wounded we came to 
 feel very nuich as if we belonged there. Neutrality was 
 only a form laid out by governmental decree. W'e were 
 ]ieart and soul with France in her struggle. Conse- 
 (|uenlly llie time of departure was a sad one. The night 
 before we were to leave, we were called into one of the 
 wards where all of the blesses who could move or be 
 moved had assembled as well as the staff. At the end 
 of the ward was a table draped with a French flag on 
 which rejjosed a Ijeautiful large silver cup and a bunch of 
 roses. We were escorted down the ward to our seats at 
 the table to the accom])animent of umch handcla])ping. 
 As soon as we were seated a sergeant read this speech so 
 full of delicate iM-ench ex])ression. 
 
 .Monsieur le Medecin-Chef. 
 
 C'est le coeur serre, ((ue ce soir. je me i)ermets de 
 prendre la ])arole, an nom de mes camarades. ])our vous 
 faire nos adieu.x. Et ])om-tant. cher Docteur. je n"ai. ni 
 la capacite necessaire, ni les qualites d'un orateur. ])our 
 vous exprinier comme je le voudrais. comme je le res- 
 sens: notre reconnaissance. 
 
 A Oici ])lus d'un an, ([ue vous avez (piitte votre patrie, 
 votre maison, vos interets et (pie vous avez traverse les 
 oceans pour nous ai)]X)rter vos scmus eclaires. Rien, ne 
 vous y obligeait : Neutre. vous ])ouviez suivre le conflit. 
 d'un oeil lointain. Mais votre conscience vous a in(li(|ue 
 \\n devoir jjIus haut et vous avez voulu ])a_\-er de votre 
 personne. 
 
Lcoi'iiiij; France and Home Again 137 
 
 Quel joli ^-este ! Aussi. Docteur. combien nous voiis 
 admirons. 
 
 Pendant un an. vous vous etes penche sur nos souf- 
 frances, vous etes intervenn pour les i^uerir. Combien 
 d'entre ceux qui sont passes ici, vous doivent la vie ! 
 
 En meme temps, place a la tete de cette importante 
 formation, vous lui donniez une impulsion nouvelle et 
 vous lui faisiez atteindre son rendement maxinnim. 
 
 L' Ambulance Americaine de Juilly a ete pour nous une 
 grande famille. Aussi, a cote des impressions horribles 
 de cette guerre, qui ensanglante presque I'Europe entiere 
 garderons nous, de notre sejour jjres de vous, un scnivenir 
 tres doux et ineffagable. 
 
 Je ne voudrais point terminer sans exprimer a Madame 
 Judd tout notre reconnaissance. Par ses bonnes paroles 
 et son charme, Madame Judd savait nous reconforter. 
 nous faisant oublier nos souifrances, phvsiques et morales. 
 
 Permettez-moi, Docteur. de vous olfrir ce souvenir, au 
 nom de tons. 
 
 C'est pen. en comparaison de ce (|ue vous avez fait 
 pour nous. Puissc-t-il. vous rap])eler (|uelques fois, vos 
 petits blesses de juilly. 
 
 Dans quelques jours, clier Docteur. vous screz de 
 Tautre cote le I'ocean. mais soyez persuade, ([ue jamais 
 nous ne vous oublierons et smivent notre coeur ira vous 
 rejoindre dans cette Ameri((ue (iue nous ne connaissons 
 pas, mais que nous avons a])])ris a aimer. 
 
 A ive I'Amerique. 
 
 Mve La France. 
 
 He then presented us with the loving cup and roses. 
 It was then my turn, but with such a lump in my throat, 
 it would have been difficult to have responded in my 
 native tongue. I got through it some way and tried to 
 tell the three hundred French people present that America 
 had not forgotten what Lafayette and his comrades had 
 done for us in our dark days, that victory would come 
 f(M- the side of right and that France would fight on. as 
 she had in the past, until the invader was driven out. 
 
138 iritli the American Ambulance in France. 
 
 That we had come from the far-off islands of the Pacific 
 to show our sympathy for the cause of France and to 
 work for her l)rave wounded soldiers. Now that it had 
 come time for us to depart we would carry with us price- 
 less memories of our friends, the jxnhis. 
 
 During our last few hours at the ambulance we made 
 our farewell call on the Mayor, and then shook hands 
 and said goodby to every one of the poilus. As many 
 as could accompanied us to the doorway where, as we 
 entered our automobile, a farewell cheer was given us. 
 There were tears too in many an eye and our eyes were 
 not dry. We felt as if we were k>aving a home and (k-ar 
 friends in a great struggle. 
 
 It is easier to get out of France than to enter it. ( )ur 
 American pass])orts were vised at the consulate, then at 
 the Prefecture of Police our "])ermis de sejour"" were 
 taken up and permission to (le])art was authorized <»n our 
 passports. There remained the trij) to Bordeaux, with its 
 charming views of the Loire valley. Catliedral of ( )rleans. 
 Chateaux of illois and Amboise. 
 
 About the only sign of war were husky, well-fed Ger- 
 man prisoners working along the railway. At Bordeaux 
 the passports had to be again stamped and we bade fare- 
 well to good French cooking by a dinner at the famous 
 "Chapon Fin." 
 
 The "Lafayette" lay at a (juai ])iled high with an end- 
 less amount of freight from America. We pulled out at 
 midnight and by daybreak we were at the mouth of the 
 Garonne and plunged at once into the swell of the Bay 
 of Biscay. The green shores of k^-ance gradually faded 
 away in the distance. Xo destroyers accompanied us. 
 Our good shi])"s speed and the rough waters were our 
 best protection. The ship was crowded and there were 
 some famous people aboard. It was not a gay crowd and 
 even the usual concert was omitted. Life preservers were 
 kept handy and there was a general feeling of relief 
 after the second day of our vo_\age was ended success- 
 fully. Nothing occurred to mark the trip until the last 
 
Lcaz'iiig France and Home Again. 139 
 
 day out. When we were sitting out on deck in the after- 
 noon we suddenly noticed that the sun. which had been 
 shining- in our faces, now shone over our shoulders. 
 Looking astern we could see a wide curved streak made 
 by the change in our course. At once rumors flew about 
 the ship — "The Kronprinzessin Cecelie had escaped and 
 was after us." "A woman passenger had received a 
 wireless telling her to wear her life-preserver day and 
 night." "A submarine had been sighted," etc. No in- 
 formation could be obtained from the officers. They 
 maintained their usual imperturbability. The look-out 
 men in the crow's nest were relieved frecpiently. The 
 gun crew were constantly on the watch. We could not 
 believe that danger threatened us right off our home 
 ])ort. There was nothing to do that night but go to bed 
 with a feeling of uncertainty. 
 
 Early the next morning we were off Sandy Hook. 
 When the pilot came aboard we learned then for the first 
 time of the depredations of the U-53, of the torpedoing of 
 passenger ships off our coast and of the rescue of women 
 and children from the icy waters. We were thankful to 
 have escaped a similar fate. 
 
 The city was hidden in a blanket of fog so that not 
 even the inii([ue sky line of the "scrapers" could be seen. 
 The custom house examination is usually as disagreeable 
 as officiousness and lack of courtesy can make it and this 
 trip was no exception. 
 
 It was rather earlv in the morning and not one fa- 
 miliar face was to be seen on the dock. We were soon 
 plunged into the roar of New ^'ork. 1 low different 
 everything seemed! There were no uniforms on the 
 street and there were so many men ! Everyone was hur- 
 rying about his business and the war might have been on 
 another planet. 
 
 At night Broadway was ablaze with lights, with gay 
 restaurants filled with people eating long course dinners. 
 The hotels were turning away people and visitors had to 
 seek accommodations in Jersey City or Brooklyn. Thea- 
 
140 //'//// tJic American Ambulance in Prance. 
 
 tres and cabarets were jammed with gay and thoughtless 
 crowds. Money was being spent like water. Much of 
 this money was war profits — the tears and agony of 
 Europe. 1 heard a well informed person say "The United 
 States has made $20 per capita out of the war and has 
 given less than 35 cents to France and Belgium." 
 
 Years of lack of education in t)ur history and ideals 
 comJMned with apath}' and careless living had done its 
 work. 
 
 The American people as a whole little realized the pur- 
 poses of the war and the gravity of the situation. The 
 idea that the Allies were fighting our war, for our ]irin- 
 ciples of liberty and humanity and that America was 
 imperilled by Germany's lust for world concjuest had en- 
 tered the heads of a very small proportion of our fellow 
 citizens. Instead of that the active propaganda for the 
 German language and "Kultur" in our schools, colleges 
 and legislatures, combined with the activities of the Ger- 
 man press and German organizations, had weakened the 
 development of a national opposition to (jermanx's plan 
 of world-em])ire. The pulpits were woefulh' deficient 
 in presenting to the i)eoi)le the moral issues of the war, 
 some i)ul])its even ])reaching a sjjirit of "peace at any 
 price." Tuhlic writers, teachers and ]:)rofessors neglected 
 their opportunity of bringing to the minds of America 
 what the tragedy of Europe meant. 
 
 There were some brave spirits who kept America's soul 
 burning as Theodore Roosevelt, Lyman Abbot, George 
 H. Putnam and James M. Beck, and nol)le women in 
 different parts of the land were working for the sufi^ering 
 humaifity of luirope. The 50,000 or so Americans in the 
 British .\rmy, the Americans in the Foreign Legion, the 
 American aviators, the Ambulance drivers, doctors and 
 nurses all helped to keep alive in France a friendly feel- 
 ing for the L'nited States and liring closer to our people 
 the cau.se they tried to serve. 
 
 We could not get used to the indifl^erence and smug 
 self-satisfaction in the atmosphere. Will America never 
 
Lcai'iiii:!; France and Home Again. 141 
 
 wake up ? Well, perhaps she will when more Americans 
 are murdered on the seas by the pirate's submarines, and 
 more of our rights are trampled on. 
 
 I listened impatiently one evening to a long argument 
 of an eloquent young minister against miUtary training. 
 The gist of his argument was that we should not fight 
 until we were attacked and then all the men could be 
 called on. He failed to bring out what a happy slaughter 
 these unprepared defenders would make for the Huns. 
 The Pacifists at 3.000 miles away from the trenches 
 talked glibly about peace on earth, but when it was pro- 
 posed to them, none of them relished the idea of having 
 their children spitted on a Prussian bayonet. 
 
 During several months in the East I spent some time 
 raising money for ambulances. I found the Americans 
 generous when the good work that our boys were doing 
 at the front was brought to their attention. There was a 
 woeful lack of understanding of the situation. If the 
 American people were not ready to go into the war. it 
 was largely because the facts had not lieen properly pre- 
 sented to them. 
 
 If the realization of what the war meant was feeble in 
 New York, it faded away as one went West, until on the 
 Pacific coast we found that the war was almost an unu- 
 sual topic of conversation. 
 
 Again embarked on the ocean, this time with no fear 
 of German submarines, we sailed the Pacific until our 
 .beloved islands came in sight and we were home again. 
 
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