Fanny Goes to War

duty. All who had been on duty that memorable night had had a pretty considerable shock. It

iotous Saturday night au cinéma, going to Mass next morning, and then presenti

ate as a mule. He was trying in the extreme. One day he told me he was intended for higher things and would soon be a priest in the Church. Sister Lampen, who was so quick and thorough herself, found him particularly tiresome, and used to refer to him as her "cross" in life! One day she called him to

s with a list on the lid indicating what particular dressings, etc., went in each. None of the alertes, however, materialized. We hea

N.Y.'s, who had been in the trenches during a particularly bad bombardment, were to be presented with the Order of Leopold II. A daily pap

land. The letters, by the way, were posted in the guard's van of a stationary train where Belgian soldiers

sy passport officer, and lastly the excitement of watching to see if there was a spy on board. The Walmer Castle and the Canterbury were the two little packets employed, and they have certainly seen life since the war began. Great

pped on French soil, and we turned away disgustedly as each was able to furnish the necessary proof that he was on lawful business. "Come, Struttie, w

iged to present ourselves to the Commandant (for the Railway shed there had been turned into an H?pital de Passage, where the men waited on stretchers till they were collected each morning by ambulances for the different Hospitals), and ask him to be kind enough to furnish a Bon pour un bain (a bath pass)! When I first went to the Bureau at the gare and saw this Commandant in his elegant tight-fitting

s of boiling water from the engine and we added what cold we wanted ourselves. You will therefore see that when anyone asked you what you were do

nd rather on the defensive. We wondered for some time what could be the reaso

s ago, and these unlettered ones, who read never the papers and know nothing, think you will take possessi

e that in 1600 a well-to-do commer?ant of the town had built the turret and promised a Carillon only on the condition that it should be a line from a song sung by a fair lady called "Jolie Annette," performing at a music hall or Café Chantant in the town at that time. The inhabitants protested, bu

e subject. Of course she had long side curls, a slim waist, lots of ribbons, a very full skirt, white stockings, and a pair of little black shoes, and last but not least, a very bewitchi

of the F.A.N.Y.'s great-grandmothers had stayed when fleeing with the Huguenots to

all the available flowers to make the wards as bright as possible. In the afternoons when there was not much to do except cut dressin

tous," cried another (almost untranslatable slang, but meaning more or less "choke the lot"). "Ba, non, sauvez-le p'is qu'il est blessé," cried a third to which several agreed. This discussion waxed furiou

r poor old body. The old man sprang forward, too late to save her, and met with the same fate. The little brother had been hastily hidden in an empty cistern as they came in. "Thus, Mademoiselle," the boy ended, "I have seen killed before my eyes my own father and mother; my little brother for all I know is also dead. I have yet to find out. I myself was taken prisoner, but luckily three days later managed to escape and join our army; do you therefore blame me, Miske, if I wish to kill as many of the swine as possible?" He sank back literally purpl

old instruments, but in the end he seemed to think it might show a want of respect to Madame his late wife (now dead two years), so the accompanying nev

tune, very catching and with lots of go; I can hear it now. I was determined to try and get a copy, and went to see Monsieur Tétar about it one day. I told him we did not know the name, but this was the t

self Marie-Margot la Cantinière, but it is, let me assure you, of a certainty not for the young girls!" No pers

n to the trenches, we received shoals of post cards and letters of thanks. When they came on leave they never failed to come

I might add that in Hospital he knew no English at all and had ta

ou profoundly from all my heart. The shawl (muffler) is at my neck and

ge, this evening in our house in the trenches,

t distinguished sentiments

Prom

tt. Inf

ine Reg

orter and myself up to St. Inglevert with some store

and was accepted immediately. He was over military age, and had had his Mors car converted into an ambulance for work at the front, and went up to Headquarters one day to

ughed all the way down

utomobiles, and, when he was not driving wounded,

by us perhaps more than he knew, especiall

h parish room attached. The latter was now used as a convalescent home for our typhoid patients until they were strong enough to take the long journey to the big camp in the South of France. The home was run by two of the F.A.N.Y.s for a fortnight at a time. It was no uncommon sight to see them on the roads

f tea. Before our return journey to Hospital we were introduced to the Curé of St. Inglevert, who was half Irish and half

heir "refectory" under Cicely's supervision