Read Ebook: A Doctor in France 1917-1919: The Diary of Harold Barclay by Barclay Harold

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Ebook has 391 lines and 31540 words, and 8 pages

It is pack up to-night and if we have luck we shall land early in the a.m. About eight p.m. we sight the lighthouse off the bar, but cannot cross until high tide on account of the risk of striking a mine.

We disembark at noon. Then a short walk through the town with Peck, Russell, etc., hunting for a cable office. I suppose all my letters will be censored out of shape as I wrote fully describing the voyage.

Major Keating met us at the wharf. He is the officer in charge of embarkation, a perfect type of the English gentleman. Lunch on ship and are entrained for Southampton direct, much to our disgust, for every one was hoping for at least one day in London. The nurses are held over in Liverpool for a tea or something; every one is most courteous.

The train was scheduled to leave at two thirty p.m., but when made up did not have sufficient room for officers, so three-quarters of an hour delay while another first-class carriage is hunted up, but every one takes it very casually and Major Keating chats very pleasantly with us all. Finally the extra carriage arrives and we are loaded. Men are loaded third class and we go first. Everything is conducted in an orderly fashion with an eye to comfort. But it seems so strange to be here and traveling under these conditions and in uniform.

The train travels slowly with numerous stops, by Crewe, Stafford, Birmingham. At each stop all the men pile out and rush for the refreshment counter, much to the confusion of the placid females who try to attend to them in their leisurely fashion. They call for American drinks which the ladies have never heard of. A struggle with the money. I know they think we are a bunch of lunatics.

The liquor laws are very strict and appear very sensible. They allow the sale of liquors and beer for two hours in the middle of the day and for one half hour in the evening. No flasks can be sold from Thursday night till Monday, so no man can take a supply home for consumption over Saturday and Sunday.

At a little after midnight we reach Southampton and are met by General Balfour and his staff. The General has charge of the port of Southampton and is responsible for practically all the embarkation of troops and supplies for the seat of war.

The General conducted us personally to the Northwestern Hotel where we had the most comfortable quarters. A cold supper was waiting and the closing law was waived. I had a good pint of ale. It was good after a long hard day of travel.

The country was as wonderful as ever, but in place of the flower gardens one saw nothing but vegetables. We came down via Oxford and saw many stretches of the Thames. It made me homesick because of the pleasant days spent at Maidenhead with Helen in 1914.

Will now continue with our arrival. The poor enlisted men were marched three and a half miles to a camp which they reached at three a.m. Floyd and Cave accompanied them.

Some of the officers went up to see the men in camp, but I toddled around the town and saw the old wall. It seems that the "Mayflower" sailed from here, and there is a monument to Elder Brewster of Scrooby and John Alden and others of that merry party. After that wandered around town, bought some puttees and a penknife. Met some of the others and lunched at the "Dolphin," a typical old-time inn.

The food laws are really strict, but then one gets all one needs. The meat allowance per meal is something like five ounces as it comes from the butcher, which means about three and a half ounces when served.

At three p.m. embarked on the tender which is to take us out to the hospital ship which is to run us across to Havre. We first run across to another quay where we are to pick up the nurses who are due to arrive at five forty-five. While waiting, General Balfour came down again in his little yellow car and showed us the medal struck off in Germany to commemorate the sinking of the "Lusitania." On the front side was a ship going down by the bow, with guns and aeroplanes on hand. On the reverse side was the Cunard ticket office with a skeleton selling tickets. The exact inscription I cannot remember, but it meant the desire for gain on the Cunard's part was the only consideration for selling tickets.

The nurses arrive in a flurry of excitement, having had the time of their lives. They were given the freedom of the theaters at Liverpool and were cheered as they entered, and a lunch at the Savoy where they all agreed they were wonderfully f?ted. Interesting stories of our ocean voyage were told them by Major Keating after we left.

It seems that the destroyer No. 38 sunk a sub two hours before meeting us. They also confirmed the report that the "Coyote" was sunk sixteen miles ahead of us at one thirty a.m. It also seems that Pershing's force was attacked by what is said to be a veritable sub flotilla, and why none was sunk was just devilish good luck.

We all jumped overboard for a swim in the afternoon. Concert in the evening by the men of the ship with ours. Every one seemed to have a good time.

The sunset was wonderful and the twilight lasted for nearly two hours.

At four p. m. weigh anchor, put out the mine-sweeper and are off, escorted by two torpedo-boats which put out from Portsmouth. We pass through the nets and around the Western part of the Isle of Wight. Through the glasses Cowes looks absolutely deserted; the bath houses are pulled back on the beach and, although it is a Sunday in midsummer, one cannot see a child playing on the sands. This is equally true of the beaches around Southampton, of which there are five or six.

It is blowing a hard gale from the south. Orders are--sleep in clothes and wear life-preservers. The run is considered dangerous. There are many mine-sweepers at work around us.

After several hours of cooling our heels we are told to go to the Hotel Moderne by the French Commandant. Havre is entirely taken over by the British. Most of the tram-cars are run by Tommies and the city is policed by them. The men doing police duty walk in pairs, wear a red band around their hats and have a brassard on the arm with "M. P." and are a fine looking lot. The Moderne is an easy third-rate hotel. Am rooming with McWilliams.

In the early evening the Commandant calls again and tells us we are to proceed to Vittel by a slow train. It is most disappointing as I had hoped for a few days in Paris, especially as we had been sidetracked from London. At the instigation of Major Bruce we proceeded to the ?tat Major of the Havre district, who finally agreed to telephone to American headquarters at Paris. The answer comes that our orders are absolute; that we were to embark at eight p. m. The train would leave at nine p. m. and we would be approximately forty-eight hours en route--no arrangements for sleeping or anything. The officers for which I arrange had packages of two eggs, 400 grams of bread and 100 grams of cheese. So we start off. A few Red Cross Frenchwomen and some men, together with the French Commander and a file of about twelve soldiers come down to see us off. The soldiers present arms, the Red Cross ladies hand us a small nosegay of sweet peas, a small box of grapes is entrusted to Henry Cave, and the train snorts out. The men go third class, the nurses second class, officers first class, and we all go like hogs!

While at Havre, Russell, McWilliams, James and a few others motored over to ?tretat and saw Brewer, Darrach and his crowd. They are delightfully situated. Saw Sally Strain and had a little chat with her. Paul Draper was working in the outfit as an orderly. They took their hospital over from the English who had everything working well and had established a good precedent.

We opened the emergency package and had breakfast of hard-boiled eggs, black bread and cheese. About six a. m. we pulled in to St. Lazaire Station in Paris and in ten minutes were out again. Then backing and filling for an hour when we landed at Noisy-le-Sec, nine kilometers from Paris. There we were told by the lieutenant we had missed our connection and would remain till two thirty.

Noisy-le-Sec is a poor working suburb of Paris. Just why we could not have been left in Paris to have a comfortable breakfast is probably unknown, except that when two alternatives are presented--a comfortable, convenient one, or an uncomfortable, inconvenient one--the rules of the game seem to be always to take the more inconvenient of the two. There is apparently a lack of any definite plan for us.

We foraged around Noisy, got a good bath and managed, for an exorbitant price, to obtain a fair d?jeuner in a small workingman's restaurant which was filled with military.

As one travels through the country the results of the war are very apparent. The countryside is deserted and only women are seen working in the fields. It's women, boys and old men. The lovely flowers that we formerly saw in such profusion are scarcely seen now. In spite of the shortage of labor, however, the fields are all well planted.

Constant trains filled with soldiers are passing northward, and at every station we stop there are a number waiting to join their commands or coming home on leave. During the afternoon we jogged along at about twenty-five kilometers an hour with frequent long stops. At seven o'clock some more brown bread and cheese. I had gotten a bottle of red wine during our few minutes' stop in Paris which helped things along nicely. Then about ten we settle down for our second night.

At Troyes last night some Canadian nurses came down to meet the train. The station was simply packed with soldiers.

Well, ten thirty a. m. and the miserable, dirty old train draws into Vittel, and it was with some pleasure that I saw the end of the rat-hole we had lived in for thirty-eight hours.

Met by a French officer. They knew we were coming, but had no orders what to do with us, so we are bundled through a deserted town to the Hotel Vittel Palace, which is an annex of one of the larger hotels and has been serving as a military hospital. Well, the least said about this place the better. No towels, no toilet articles or looking glasses. There is one bathtub at the end of a long corridor which we all have to use. No one to clean it out. In fact, nothing is done and the whole place, in spite of the fact it is a hospital, is filthy. McWilliams, James, Stillman and I have one room which could hold two in a pinch. Nowhere to store anything. The mess is horrible. It is in the old ballroom surrounded with beds. We sit on hard benches. Breakfast is hard bread, no butter and some horrible liquid called coffee without sugar--worse than anything we had during the Spanish War.

The French are most polite. The men all salute us in the streets, several men and women coming up and talking to us. When Russell, James, Stillman and myself went to a neighboring hotel for a good lunch we were given a good round of hand-clapping as we walked into the dining-room. I shouted in return, "Vive la France." Many officers have come up and spoken to us. I have never tried to talk French so hard in my life and that which I do speak is simply awful, but they take it in good part and try and help me out.

This morning in watching the tennis I asked a Frenchman where I could get racquets and balls. He brought up an English captain , who explained everything to me and insisted on introducing me to a Frenchwoman, Madame Somebody, who, he said, played a good game, so have a date to play with her at five p. m., consequently have rummaged to get a pair of tennis shoes, but there is nothing big enough for me, except a pair of dirty brown canvas sneakers, and I have to wear my long military trousers. I hate doing things when I have not the appropriate clothes.

I went out this afternoon trying to make some arrangement at the different hotels for an officers' mess, but they want ten francs which is too much as practically all the men are living on their pay. The English do well for their men and officers. They give a good mess and, I think, clothing allowance, for they all seem to be on Easy Street.

Well, here goes for the tennis!

The tennis was good fun. The two women played very well, but the men--first one and then a younger fellow took up the game--were not much good.

Dined at the hotel with Russell.

Captain Ward turned up just after we had finished lunch. He looked dead beat, said he had an awful time as neither the French nor English Government had any orders concerning him. They crossed the Channel on a ship loaded with troops and horses. They said the French had treated them much better than the English.

Majors Robert Bacon and McCoy were here this morning looking over the place. There are rumors that Pershing may make it his headquarters.

Peck, Hansell and Trinder motored over to Contreville. They reported that it was a smaller place and not nearly so attractive. They go to Gondrecourt, which I understand is the Divisional Headquarters of General Sibert.

The order came to-day that we were to wear the belt and shoulder piece, the same as the English officers. It will make our shabby uniform look smarter.

Russell and I are trying to get leave for seventy-two hours to get to Paris. I hope it can be done as I want very much, in spite of the expense, to see what is going on.

Ward brought a little mongrel fox-terrier puppy with him from Havre. My, but it made me want to see Bluffie.

I had a wonderfully vivid dream last night. I dreamt I was back in Cazenovia, riding old Jonnis, the horse, and that we had just been discharged from the Spanish War, and that all this rotten business was over. I could not imagine for some minutes where I was on awakening. But it gives me the creeps, as the men are already making arrangements for the winter.

I obtained permission to go to Paris, so am leaving on the one p.m. train with Russell. Packed my valise and am off. It is good to get away from the crowd and to be free, even for a few hours.

We arrive in Paris at ten p. m. There were very few taxis, but we managed to secure one and went to the Ritz. Paris is absolutely dark; a dim light flickers every two blocks, but the streets are so dark in the interim that it is with difficulty you can see people approaching. At ten as we drove down the Rue de la Paix and into the Place Vend?me it was absolutely deserted save for two girls. This is not metaphor, but absolute.

After depositing our bags we groped our way along the Rue de Rivoli and into the Place de la Concorde. Three belated private limousines sneaked past us as if they were ashamed to be out so late. Otherwise, silence and darkness. It was as if the hand of death had suddenly closed down on the whole world and left one with an eerie, creepy feeling. A lone gendarme was standing under a feeble lamp. He seemed glad to see us. I counted eight lamps burning in the place and that was all. The change was profound, almost terrible. I shall be glad to get to the hotel and in my room and turn on all the lights.

Sent a note to Gabrielle Dorziat saying I was in town and asked her to dine with me, but when I called she had gone to ?pernay for a few days. I was awfully sorry not to have seen her.

Spent the whole morning tearing around with Russell. The Embassy, Morgan, Harjes, American Express, etc. We went to Army Headquarters at 21 Rue Constantin where I tried to present a letter to Colonel Bradley, the M. O., but we found Medical Headquarters are at 10 Rue Ste. Anne. Bradley was away, but we saw Mr. Ireland, Colonel. He is the king-pin of the show. He gave us the depressing news that we would in all probability be permanently stationed at Vittel. Called on Lillie Havemeyer. She was moving to a new apartment at No. 38 Avenue Gabriel. All was chaos, but she gave me a warm welcome and asked me to lunch with her at Laurens the next day. Later I went to see Henry Clews.

Henry has a charming h?tel with a lovely garden. A fountain with ducks and goldfish. A nice sleepy cat was watching the pigeons, and a bulldog was watching the cat. The peace and quiet were wonderful. We had tea in the garden. Henry was very quiet and just what his view of the whole situation is it was hard to gather. He was very hospitable and asked me to make my headquarters there any time I was in Paris.

We dined at the Tavern Royal with a quart of sweet champagne. But the best of all was a couple of cocktails at Maxim's beforehand. The Ma?tre d'H?tel was very loquacious and told us most impressively that America had come in none too soon because France was at the end of her tether. This is what we heard everywhere.

Paris by day appears on the surface very much as when we left in September, 1914. The streets are crowded with uniforms of every description and every now and then an American one, but as yet they are very much in the minority.

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