My War Experiences in Two Continents | Page 3

The wounded are not very bad, and have been sent on here from
another hospital. They are enchanted with their quarters, which indeed
do look uncommonly nice. One hundred and thirty beds are ranged in
rows, and we have a bright counterpane on each and clean sheets. The
floor is scrubbed, and the bathrooms, store, office, kitchens, and
receiving-rooms have been made out of nothing, and look splendid. I
never saw a hospital spring up like magic in this way before. There is a
wide verandah where the men play cards, and a garden to stump about
in.
The gratitude of our patients is boundless, and they have presented Mrs.
Stobart with a beautiful basket of growing flowers. I do not think
Englishmen would have thought of such a thing. They say they never
tasted such cooking as ours outside Paris, and they are rioting in good
food, papers, nice beds, etc. Nearly all of them are able to get out a
little, so it is quite cheery nursing them. There is a lot to do, and we all
fly about in white caps. The keenest competition is for sweeping out
the ward with a long-handled hair brush!
[Page Heading: THE DEFENCES OF THE TOWN]
I went into the town to-day. It is very like every other foreign town,
with broad streets and tram-lines and shops and squares, but to-day I
had an interesting drive. I took a car and went out to the second line of
forts. The whole place was a mass of wire entanglements, mined at
every point, and the fields were studded with strong wooden spikes.
There were guns everywhere, and in one place a whole wood and a
village had been laid level with the ground to prevent the enemy taking
cover. We heard the sound of firing last night!
* * * * *
To Mrs. Keays-Young.
RUE DE L'HARMONIE 68, ANTWERP, 25 September.

DEAREST BABE,
It was delightful getting your letter. Our wounded are all French or
Belgians, but there is a bureau of enquiry in the town where I will go to
try to hear tidings of your poor friends.
We heard the guns firing last night, and fifty wounded were sent in
during the afternoon. In one day 2,500 wounded reached Antwerp. I
can write this sort of thing to-day as I know my letter will be all right.
To show you that the fighting is pretty near, two doctors went for a
short motor drive to-day and they found two wounded men. One was
just dying, the other they brought back in the car, but he died also. In
the town itself everything seems much as usual except for crowds of
refugees. Do not believe people when they say German barbarity is
exaggerated. It is hideously true.
We are fearfully busy, and it seems a queer side of war to cook and
race around and make doctors as comfortable as possible. We have a
capital staff, who are made up of zeal and muscle. I do not know how
long it can last. We breakfast at 7.30, which means that most of the
orderlies are up at 5.45 to prepare and do everything. The fare is very
plain and terribly wholesome, but hardly anyone grumbles. I am trying
to get girls to take two hours off duty in the day, but they won't do it.
Have you any friends who would send us a good big lot of nice jam? It
is for the staff. If you could send some cases of it at once to Miss Stear,
39, St. James's Street, London, and put my name on it, and say it is for
our hospital, she will bring it here herself with some other things. Some
of your country friends might like to help in a definite little way like
this.
Your loving SARAH.
---- is going to England to-night and will take this.
* * * * *
27 September.--Yesterday, when we were in the town, a German

airship flew overhead and dropped bombs. A lot of guns fired at it, but
it was too high up to hit. The incident caused some excitement in the
streets.
[Page Heading: ARRIVAL OF WOUNDED]
Last night we heard that more wounded were coming in from the
fighting-line near Ghent. We got sixty more beds ready, and sat up late,
boiling water, sterilising instruments, preparing operating-tables and
beds, etc., etc. As it got later all the lights in the huge ward were put out,
and we went about with little torches amongst the sleeping men, putting
things in order and moving on tip-toe in the dark. Later we heard that
the wounded might not get in till Monday.
The work of this place goes on unceasingly. We all get on well, but I