he said to a comrade, "Both my legs have gone," but he had
no pain at all. His comrade assured him that he had not lost his legs,
but he said he could not believe it until he got to the hospital. He has
received the Medaille Militaire for bravery, and his comrades said he
certainly deserved it. He is so glad to get here, where it is real
country and quiet. We put him on a chaise longue on the balcony to-day
and he has been out of doors all day long.

It is after ten o'clock, but I am still at the Ambulance. We are waiting
for a train that is bringing us fifteen wounded directly from Alsace.
Poor souls, they will be glad to get here, for they have been a long
time on the way.

No letters this week; regulations are very strict again, and they are
holding up all mail for eight or ten days.

June 22, 1915.

I had to stop my letter as the men arrived. We got eighteen instead of
fifteen. Such a tired dirty lot they were; they came straight from the
battle field, and had only had one dressing done since they were
wounded. Some of them came on stretchers, others were able to walk, as
they were wounded in the arms and head. I drew two from this lot, which
brings my number up to seventeen again. One of mine has both bones
broken in his leg and the other is wounded in the left side and
shoulder. One poor chap had been a prisoner in one of the trenches for
four days and they were unable to get any food all that time; most of
them have slept ever since they arrived, they were so exhausted.

To-day a military doctor came from Besancon to show us about some
special electrical treatment. They are going to increase the beds by
fifty to begin with, and later may make it three hundred.

The news is not good to-day, the Russians seem to be retreating all the
time and the losses in the north are terrible. There seems to be no
doubt in the minds of many people that the war will last another year at
least; it seems too terrible.

June 27, 1915.

I did not get my letter off to-day as there was so much to do. We have
had inspection all week. They have finally decided to enlarge the
hospital very much and make it a semi-military institution of four
hundred beds. We are to turn the large dining-room into a ward with
fifty beds, and the large part of the hotel will hold three hundred
more. They want me to take charge. Dr.