October 30

A beautiful day; have been to church twice. Mr. Bliss preached two excellent sermons. He always preaches well; is a remarkably gifted, brainy, interesting speaker from the pulpit. Dr. Carpenter's funeral was this afternoon from the Congregational Church. Mr. Beckley's funeral services were attended this afternoon from the M. E. Church; beautiful evening; have been up to the cemetery with Mr. and Mrs. Mower.

October Thirtieth

It will be difficult in all history to find a more varied career than his, a man who, from the greatest poverty, without any learning, and by sheer force of character alone became the great fighting leader of fighting men, a man in whom an extraordinary military instinct and sound common-sense supplied to a very large extent his unfortunate want of military education. His military career teaches us that the genius which makes men great soldiers is not art of war.

Viscount Wolseley
(England)

 

 

October 30, 1863

Friday. It has been a rainy day, but we have paid little attention to it. Dr. Warren finished up his examination and nearly every man passed muster. He was not as particular about it as Dr. Cole was at Hudson. As fast as examined and passed we gave them their new clothes, and a prouder set of people I never saw. Lieutenant Colonel Parker came at night with later word from Colonel B. and Drake does not have to go. For this he and the rest of us are glad. Colonel Parker brought eight men with him and about as many women. We have quite a respectable squad, and they are learning very fast—faster I think than we did when we first began. Those that were rejected by the surgeon as unsound are here yet, and what to do with them is a puzzle to us. We have each of us taken one, to do anything for us we can think of, and they seem perfectly happy. Mine is named Tony, and is a great big good-natured soul, ready to do anything for me, if I will only let him stay. He came to me at first asking if I would write a letter to his wife, and when I asked him what I should write, told me anything I was a mind to. I wrote the letter, telling her where he was, and how he was, and put in a word for some of the others for Tony's wife to tell their folks. This pleased him so much that he hung around trying to do me a favor in return, and when he was rejected by the doctor he said I must keep him, for he would be killed if he went back home, because he had enlisted. The government allows us transportation and a daily ration for a servant, so I am nothing out, for he asks no other pay than his board and the privilege of staying.

Friday, October 30th, Boulogne.—While we were at Nieppe, after passing Bailleul, a German aeroplane dropped a bomb on to Bailleul. After filling up at Nieppe we went back to Bailleul and took up 238 Indians, mostly with smashed left arms from a machine-gun that caught them in the act of firing over a trench. They are nearly all 47th Sikhs, perfect lambs: they hold up their wounded hands and arms like babies for you to see, and insist on having them dressed whether they've just been done or not. They behave like gentlemen, and salaam after you've dressed them. They have masses of long, fine, dark hair under their turbans done up with yellow combs, glorious teeth, and melting dark eyes. One died. The younger boys have beautiful classic Italian faces, and the rest have fierce black beards curling over their ears.

We carried 387 cases this time.

Later.—We got unloaded much more quickly to-day, and have been able to have a good rest this afternoon, as I went to bed at 3 a.m.and was up again by 8. It was not so heavy this time, as the Indians were mostly sitting-up cases. Those of a different caste had to sleep on the floor of the corridors, as the others wouldn't have them in. One compartment of four lying-down ones got restless with the pain of their arms, and I found them all sitting up rocking their arms and wailing "Aie, Aie, Aie," poor pets. They all had morphia, and subsided. One British Tommy said to me: "Don't take no notice o' the dirt on me flesh, Sister; I ain't 'ad much time to wash!" quite seriously.

Another bad one needed dressing. I said, "I won't hurt you." And he said in a hopeless sort of voice, "I don't care if you do." He had been through a little too much.

It is fine getting the same day's London 'Daily Mail' here by the Folkestone boat.

It is interesting to hear the individual men express their conviction that the British will never let the Germans through to Calais. They seem as keen as the Generals or the Government. That is why we have had such thousands of wounded in Boulogne in this one week. It is quite difficult to nurse the Germans, and impossible to love your enemies. We always have some on the train. One man of the D.L.I. was bayoneted in three different places, after being badly wounded in the arm by a dumdum bullet. (They make a small entrance hole and burst the limb open in exit.) The man who bayoneted him died in the next bed to him in the Clearing Hospital yesterday morning. You feel that they have all been doing that and worse. We hear at first hand from officers and men specified local instances of unprintable wickedness.