ly eleven and I must be up early, so good-night.

August 23, 1915.

Your letter has been long delayed, as they are very strict and holding
up the mails again.

We heard this morning that there are French troops guarding the border
at Crassier, just half a mile from here. We hear all the Swiss border is
to be protected by barbed wire. I do not know what it all means unless
it is on account of spies.

We got fifteen more patients last week, one yesterday and one to-day,
but as several went away we have still the same number--eighty-four.

We have had a very busy morning. An inspector arrived just as we were
ready to operate, and between the two I did not know whether I was on my
head or my heels. Thirty of our men will go off on Monday and we will
probably get a train full later in the week.

We have a phonograph with a rasping voice that plays from morning to
night. The soldiers love it; the poor things are so used to noise that
they don't seem happy without it, but sometimes I feel as if I could
scream.

One of the men got a telegram saying his mother was dying; the doctor
gave him forty-eight hours leave--all he could possibly do--so he went
home and has just got back; could not stay for the funeral, but was so
thankful to have been able to see her. If he had been at the front that
would not have been possible--only another sad consequence of the war.
Another soldier received the news of the death of his little girl.

Miss Todd took me out in her motor the other day. We had a beautiful run
over the mountains; the view was magnificent. We took one of the
soldiers with us and he enjoyed himself immensely; it was the first time
he had ever been in one.

Sunday, August 29, 1915.

It is pouring rain, it is sad to say, as the soldiers are having a
little celebration. A band came from Noyon and the Count de Divonne made
a speech, two of the men received their Croix de Guerre, the doctor
made such a nice little speech to each of them. It was very touching to
see the groups of men, some with arms in slings and others with legs and
heads bandaged, and some who could not stand at all, still others were
in their beds. The decorations were given in the Grand Salle.

I am not sure if all your letters reach me or not, sometimes I get two
in a week and then again none for three weeks.

Thirty-three men go off to-mor