sible and rendered admirable service; but what could even
the best intentioned do without equipment? On September 5th, I took mess
with two of our best physicians, Captain O'Malley of Mercy Hospital,
Chicago, and Lieutenant Poole of South Carolina. One week later I buried
the Lieutenant at Longre, a victim of pneumonia, following an illness of
but four days.

Four French Sisters of Charity now came most providentially to our
assistance. The unjust and stupid Association Laws of France had,
shortly before the war, forbidden them the right of teaching. Later they
had returned and converted the old building, their former school, into a
hospital. With its four spacious classrooms and pretty garden in the
rear, it easily lent itself to the purpose. Under the able direction of
Doctor Thiery, who was at that time mayor of the village, and whose
soldier son had been killed at St. Quentin, emergency medical and
surgical cases received there a care that, no doubt, saved many lives.
Our own Army doctors were at once incorporated in this improvised
hospital's staff, with corpsmen assigned to duty in its wards.

How wonderfully inventive and skillful Love becomes under the
inspiration of Religion! The humble Sisters who, in days of peace, had
dedicated their virgin lives to Education, a spiritual Work of Mercy,
now, under the stress of war, directed those same self-sacrificing
energies to Nursing, a corporal Work of Mercy, sanctioned by Him who is
the world's first Good Samaritan. Though not able to utter a single
English word, their kindness spoke eloquently for them in those
numerous little ways a gentle woman has of assuaging pain and soothing
even "the dull cold ear of Death." The Mother Superior, by simply
removing two or three pieces of furniture, converted her office into the
hospital morgue; and here, assisted by the corpsmen, I prepared the
bodies of my dear boys for burial. How my heart ached to see them die!
In the loneliness and seclusion of those whitewashed classrooms, far
removed from any sight or association that spoke of Home; to see the
light of their lives burn out, and the flowers of Spring displaced by
the snows of Winter!

To me their deaths, amid the uninspiring surroundings of that wayside
hospital, took on a grandeur and sublimity all surpassing.

Far easier, indeed, would it have been for them to die on field of
battle, with cheer of comrades following their flight of soul. That ward
was a braver field!