TRANSCRIBED FROM THE PRESCOTT DAILY NEWS AUGUST 16, 1917 P. 3
American Base Hospital No. 21 Rouen,
France, July 18, 1917.
Your letter of June 19th and your card of June 8th, which were written at French Lick, just received. You see it takes some time to reach us but its just as welcome as if written the day before arrival.
We are just now having one of our "French" showers. It certainly can rain in France, but in a few minutes the sun will be shining and the birds singing.
Am glad Uncle Thomas is president of the Red Cross Chapter of Sparta. He will surley be doing his bit in that way. What are they doing Write me details.
We are not so rushed with patients now as we were at first. We hope that means not many wounded. We lost our first boy the other day. I mean the first one in my ward. Poor fellow as about 28 years of age, from New Zealand. Left leg was shot and had to be amputated above the knee. He developed septic pneumonia and died. It seemed so sad away from all his people, but what of the battle field. However, we cannot afford to let our minds dwell on these things, here more than can be helped.
We've all been wonderfully well. All the nurses look fine and not one has lost a day on account of sickness. For all these blessings, we can only thank the Lord, who has all things in his power and has not turned a deaf ear to all the prayers offered in our behalf.
I am writing as often as I can, but there are times when it is impossible to get an opportunity. Keep on writing whether you hear or not. Do send me some of your kodaks to put on my hut wall. They'll come through in a letter. Your letters are seldom opened by censors. I have an autograph book and my boys are writing for me. One is quite an artist and has drawn so many pictures for me. I'll enclose one that I think is so cute. Let me know if you get it.
Here is a copy of the effusion one boy, aged 19, wrote in a few minutes, entirely original: "We in the ward do bless the day you started from the U.S.A. We're sure you did not mind a bit the parting from your Uncle Sam, though he, we know, was almost frantic, to think of you on the Atlantic. We hope you value to the full, the qualities of stout John Bull, that long before you have to get back you'll learn to know and love the Auzack, on the first page of this, your book, I make my bow and wish you luck."
Don't you think that was clever for a kid? This same boy also plays the flute and furnishes us with music.
The Aucazs are the Australians and the New Zealanders. I think I told you before our patients are all British and Australians, with an occasional Canadian.
I am making slow progress with my French, but will get enough to make my wants known I think. Last night some of we nurses and some of the V. A. D's, who are the Volunteer Aid Department, played baseball against each other. We had a good time and quite a bunch of spectators. All our blue boys who could leave the tents were there to see, and it did us good to see them enjoy the game and cheer for us. The blue boys are our patients. We call them blue boys because they wear blue suits, the hospital suits.
The patients are all so patient and so appreciative whatever the trouble is, that we feel we cannot do enough for them. I am invited to a little tent party tonight, given by the V. A. D's.
There is a large bulletin board in the front of our mess hall (dining room) on which posters of our changes and what not are tacked, most every hour of the day, hence it is an interesting place to be and we go there about five times a day. Most of our instructions are gotten there, and new rules, change of duties, etc. But the most exciting thing of all is when the word comes mail has arrived. Everyone scrambles to see whats for them.
Oh well, we sleep here. Can just sleep now and never hear the guns at all.
Do write all the Sparta and family news. Details mean so much. I must go on duty now.
Mary E. Stephenson,
American Base Hospital No. 21.
NOTES: This letter was written by nurse Mary E. Stephenson.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD
American Base Hospital No. 21 Rouen,
France, July 18, 1917.
Your letter of June 19th and your card of June 8th, which were written at French Lick, just received. You see it takes some time to reach us but its just as welcome as if written the day before arrival.
We are just now having one of our "French" showers. It certainly can rain in France, but in a few minutes the sun will be shining and the birds singing.
Am glad Uncle Thomas is president of the Red Cross Chapter of Sparta. He will surley be doing his bit in that way. What are they doing Write me details.
We are not so rushed with patients now as we were at first. We hope that means not many wounded. We lost our first boy the other day. I mean the first one in my ward. Poor fellow as about 28 years of age, from New Zealand. Left leg was shot and had to be amputated above the knee. He developed septic pneumonia and died. It seemed so sad away from all his people, but what of the battle field. However, we cannot afford to let our minds dwell on these things, here more than can be helped.
We've all been wonderfully well. All the nurses look fine and not one has lost a day on account of sickness. For all these blessings, we can only thank the Lord, who has all things in his power and has not turned a deaf ear to all the prayers offered in our behalf.
I am writing as often as I can, but there are times when it is impossible to get an opportunity. Keep on writing whether you hear or not. Do send me some of your kodaks to put on my hut wall. They'll come through in a letter. Your letters are seldom opened by censors. I have an autograph book and my boys are writing for me. One is quite an artist and has drawn so many pictures for me. I'll enclose one that I think is so cute. Let me know if you get it.
Here is a copy of the effusion one boy, aged 19, wrote in a few minutes, entirely original: "We in the ward do bless the day you started from the U.S.A. We're sure you did not mind a bit the parting from your Uncle Sam, though he, we know, was almost frantic, to think of you on the Atlantic. We hope you value to the full, the qualities of stout John Bull, that long before you have to get back you'll learn to know and love the Auzack, on the first page of this, your book, I make my bow and wish you luck."
Don't you think that was clever for a kid? This same boy also plays the flute and furnishes us with music.
The Aucazs are the Australians and the New Zealanders. I think I told you before our patients are all British and Australians, with an occasional Canadian.
I am making slow progress with my French, but will get enough to make my wants known I think. Last night some of we nurses and some of the V. A. D's, who are the Volunteer Aid Department, played baseball against each other. We had a good time and quite a bunch of spectators. All our blue boys who could leave the tents were there to see, and it did us good to see them enjoy the game and cheer for us. The blue boys are our patients. We call them blue boys because they wear blue suits, the hospital suits.
The patients are all so patient and so appreciative whatever the trouble is, that we feel we cannot do enough for them. I am invited to a little tent party tonight, given by the V. A. D's.
There is a large bulletin board in the front of our mess hall (dining room) on which posters of our changes and what not are tacked, most every hour of the day, hence it is an interesting place to be and we go there about five times a day. Most of our instructions are gotten there, and new rules, change of duties, etc. But the most exciting thing of all is when the word comes mail has arrived. Everyone scrambles to see whats for them.
Oh well, we sleep here. Can just sleep now and never hear the guns at all.
Do write all the Sparta and family news. Details mean so much. I must go on duty now.
Mary E. Stephenson,
American Base Hospital No. 21.
NOTES: This letter was written by nurse Mary E. Stephenson.
TRANSCRIBED BY LAEL HARROD