GARDEN PLOTS AND BATTLEFIELDS

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 295, 2 September 1918, Page 3

GARDEN PLOTS AND BATTLEFIELDS

STORY OF GREAT OFFENSIVE NURSE'S THRILLING NARRATIVE Nurse Millicent Armstrong, in an intensely interesting letter to her sister, Daphne, a resident of Mosinim, Sydney, writes graphically of the experiences the nurses of the Scottish Women's Hospital at Villcrs-Cotterets went through during the early stages of the last German offensive "Well, I expect you would like to hear of our 'last days' at the other hospital," she writes. "Three weeks ago to-day (it seems like three years) the attack had 'not begun, and wo were contentedly pottering about our wee gardens with only a handful of wounded in the place, and nothing very much to do. Most of the staff were down here helping with the work. On Tuesday, May 29, wounded began arriving' at five in the morning. They came in in an increasing stream, the cases becoming steadily worse, all that day and all the,.follo'wing night. Each night the air raids became worse, but as there had not been one fine night after_ I returned from Cannes .without an air raid, more or less in the neighbourhood, that was not very remarkable.

"On Tuesday night, {he other girl who worked in the bureau took over my job—receiving the wounded—and I went to bed, was called up early next morning to find thoy had been coming in all night. By this time things were looking, pretty serious, and we were ordered to send away any blesses who could possibly go. 50 had been evacuated the previous day.) \> "In the afternoon I wont on working at the papers, and apparently things calmed down, for by the evening wo were nfkwl to begin' taking in wounded again It was the most extraordinary night—like a littlo chapter of hell. "A terrinc air raid came off: I was alone in the office, and the explosives raised a horrid little wind up the'back of one's neck. 1 leaned against the wall in the' dark' and thought how vile it all was. An ammunition train caught fire close by, and there was a weird light everywhere, with leaping explosions'up the. sky. Some village also was liuniinjj at the back of us.

"Then, having finished what I could for the evacuation, I went over to the de reception,' where the men ■were being carried in. All lights were ont\except a few shaded lanterns and candles (it was too dangerous to have die electric light); the chief was operating by candle light. The only thing about such a situation is that one literally has not time to be alarmed. Longing for Morning. "A bomb dropped with a terrific crash while 1 was doing something to a half-conscious man. He opened his eyes with a look of horror and said, 'One bombe,',and I agreed amiably. It's literally true that 1 1 couldn't wait to bo nervous (and I'm no heroine about bombs). I think it was that very bomb which dropped on a little cottage at the end of our-canip, and killed the mother and her three children. "It came at last, and at last they stopped sending "us wounded—a relief, but a bad sign. "At lunch-timo all tho juniors were sent off (on foot) for Royaumont. m "At this point I fled off, flung my possessions into my trunk, just leaving out what I could carry in a dispatch case. Then the cars turned up and wo lewded them with wounded and sent them off. • Then there was another pause. By this time it was about 7.3!) p.m., and someoue suggested supper. As we went down the camp we noticed a queer singing noise overhead, followed by bangs, and then it suddenly dawned on our scattered wits that tho Bocho had begun shelling the towii. We were just finishing, supper when a message camo from the medecin chef that the entire hospital had to go at once. Wo raced down the camp—one of our motor lorries had turned up—and providentially some American ambulances (from tho skies, as far as 1 have ever discovered). Our very last wounded we got on to stretchers and put them into the ambulances—(though I'm afraid few of them could survive the journey). Then we ran into an air raid and nearly got blown up—and finally arrived at Royaumont at about midnight, and had time to sit 'down and cry—(in private, though we all confessed later).

"But adventures were far from over. Next day news drifted in that the enemy had still not reached the town where;we had been, and about 4in the afternoon three ears .were sent up to try and salve equipment. (Heaps of valuable X-ray and theatre stuff had been left.) I was on a. wretched lorry which was running; badly. A Devilish Sight. "A man called out to us not to go on. 'Why?' 'Why?'said we. 'Because the Bosohes are overhead, and just going to bombard the place,' he says. ■ And no sooner had he said it .than the bombs began crashing down just ahead. He certainly saved our lives. Wo hacked the car to the roadside, and took refuge in a shed of sorts, with a few French Poilus. It was hateful; part of the town caught fire, and the Bosches used a queer devicesome sort of incandescent shell that lit up the. country for miles and was (you will scarcely credit it) brighter than sunlight—very like a sort of pink Eunlight; it'was the most unnatural, devilish sight I over saw. Lasted, I suppose, about four minutes. By its aid the Gothas quietly took aim again, and bombed and bombed—and we held hands (tho chauffeur girl and I), and thought our last hour was going to bo a very sticky one. "In the first pause we decided it was no uso attempting to go on, because we would certainly catch it again, so wo took to the fields, and lav down under a tree," and for four hours and a half, with short pauses, that detestable bombardment, continued. It just rained shells and aerial torpedo.es. In the first streak of dawn we crept back mournfully to our car. It had not been touched, but two others just a little further along the, road were burning.

"Since then we have been over our ears in workj but the matron and I had one last trip to our camp a week later, the Germans having been held in check all the week, ill our trunks had been ripped up and destroyed. Wo salved hospital equipment and a few rags of the staff possessions, but practically everything has gone. However, it doesn't matter much—by t-lio look of tho news I should think we would shortly be taking to tho roads again. "We've had quite a lot of Germans here—and I'm glad to say I find them awful cowards. One Bocho officer has given us as much trouble as six French soldiers.—Sydney "Daily Telegraph."