1915 Letter 13
France
April 5th, [1915]
My own darling Mother,
I feel for the first time that I can sit down and write a decent letter. Everything was so strange at first that we really couldn't describe things but now we are settled and our views are less abstract.
This has been a regular April day - pouring rain most of the time. Our uniform consists of sou'wester, raincoat, rubber boots and our skirts hitched up around our knees. We are to move into tents to-morrow and in the meantime have to walk about ¾ mile to the camp. We have to wear our veils and aprons when in the tents of course but coming and going, we aren't for style at all.
We were quite busy all day as we got patients on Saturday night from the front, and expect more daily. None of them are Canadians. Some of them have not been out of their clothes except to bathe occasionally for 8 months. They lie and sleep by the hour and are in one constant spasm of delight over their present comfort. The cook was formerly on one of the C.P.R. trains and he says he's going to give the boys the best meals possible. Last night their poor stomachs were fairly bulging they had eaten so much. They are all full of admiration for the Canadians, the generosity, cheerfulness, adaptability, etc.
Miss Charleson, the Matron, is certainly anxious to make things pleasant for us, and is keeping a cook here by paying her board to have her ready when our own mess is started. Every afternoon Alice comes out, with cake etc. and makes tea for us. We are so decidedly English now, you know, that we'd perish with out our afternoon tea. The water tastes strongly of tar, the milk is condensed, the cups at present are granite, and to-day we stood around dripping all over the place - but it was tea and we wouldn't miss it for the world. In the midst of it all some came in with a wild yell that there was tons of mail, and Mother, we all acted like idiots - our mail has been coming in in mere dribbles and some of the girls have not had a world from home for over two months. I had the long letter from you written Mar. 7 on the long paper, two from girls I trained with, my photos from Gainsboro's which I had given up as lost and the camera from Aunt Teddy. The orders regarding such are strict but I shall try to send you a few snaps of the girls etc. that won't be of any use to the Germans.
Still no word from Eric but no word over here is good. The Canadians have been out of the trenches for two weeks, so he is probably busy or more probably his letters have gone astray. Miss Boultbee's brother is 3 hours away from Boulogne and yet can't get leave so I mustn't mind not seeing Eric.
I have got as far as Papa's winning the cup. I must sent Mr. Fisher a card of congratulations and tell Papa I am proud of him.
And now your part about my coming over. My dear Mother I wouldn't go home for a million dollars. To have missed this!! I can't even think about it. We've always said the Sutherlands were wanderers - I have inherited the taste surely for I have turned out to be a mighty good traveler, and am quite happy under any conditions, and better still, perfectly well, and not a bit nervous any more or tired out. You couldn't be [with] all these girls and not feel a change in your ideas. Many of them are girls who have had endless advantages at home, professionally and socially - one or the other or both, and it is a stimulant to feel you have to keep up with them.
My dear, I must laugh here and you will too when I tell you I am with "the twenty picked nurses" our friend Mrs. B. spoke of. Picked they surely were not but undoubtedly there are a mighty fine lot.
Miss Boultbee and I are rooming together now and are to tent together, thank fortune. She is an awfully nice girl, older than I am but a perfect dear to me. She is from Vancouver and is a cousin of the Rosamund Boultbee who is Paris correspondent for the news. She and Miss Goodene are old friends, and Miss G. arranged for us to have the tent next to theirs. She is with Dorothy Winter of Ottawa. She is a dear kid and as comical as can be. I do not know any of those girls very well yet and am not making any advances. Then Miss Squire and Miss Wylie are together both Royal Victoria and both as nice as they can be and very clever and extremely popular. You may tell May about Miss Squire especially for she is a credit to Norwood.
Then there is Bleweth who is as fat as butter and looks awfully well. She has changed a lot, and is a great favorite with all the girls. She calls me Helen, but never mind. She and Hunter are at another Hotel with Miss M. and her friend Miss Pelletier. So you see what exclusive friends Miss M. has. Miss P. is an R.C. and a quick little thing but awfully well liked. So much for that hotel. Hunter, of course, always was a favorite. We three Grace nurses are together here isn't it funny? Then there are two T.G.H.'s - Bruce and Hammell - rather inoffensive girls but I like them. Then a Miss [Laulkin] and a Miss McCullogh from Ottawa - both great "wits" and always providing some fun. The others are Dickison, Johnston, [Pierce], Jamieson, Brock, Clarke, Upton, West, Didion, Scoble, Galt, Smith and I think that is all.
Dickison and West came over with us and I like them both very much. {blacked out by censor}I wrote you about from Ottawa. All that Godard told us was a {blacked out by censor}on the girl, whose appearance is her greatest drawback. She is a good soul but a terrible bore. {blacked out by censor}is a {blacked out by censor}and a most insufferable one. She is an ignorant girl and as bold as only the French etc. know how to be. I think she will go home some day if she doesn't watch out.
I met Miss Galt in Boulogne one day last week. She is on holidays at present as she and the others have been busy in Imperial Hospital since November. She is also a great friend of Miss Boultbee's and seems very nice.
Miss M. is not popular, and is certainly not pretty or even good looking. She is as big a snob as the rest. Everyone has her number.
I am so glad I was one of those to come to France. I didn't get down to Cliveden but those of us girls who did said it was perfectly grand. We are seeing life far more than they are, and I am sure they are all green with envy. Being in a Stationary Hospital is interesting too, for strange to relative, they are mobile units and apt to move at any time - a fact that their name belies rather. It really does seem like the real thing to be splashing around tents rather than pursuing a well ordered existence in some beautiful ex-hotel like Le Toquet.
We are well supplied with equipment and can put through all kinds of work once we get busy. {blacked out by censor}owing to the fact that the {blacked out by censor}had no previous {blacked out by censor}and is {blacked out by censor}this as a {blacked out by censor}but that is {blacked out by censor}and {blacked out by censor}. Then instead of being all on an equality - some are being made head nurses and some dressing nurses. I have been made a dressing nurse and don't care much about it as some of the first lot have been passed over. However I'll do my best to make good. Taken on the whole I like it very much here and every thing is fine but Le Tréport will always be first in our
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march. All the boys are buried side by side, in consecrated ground - but the Germans are put away over by the fence. There are two Princess Pats buried there and we are going to find out their names and write to their people, and tell them what a beautiful place the boys are in. It might be some comfort to them.
There is plenty of sorrow and sadness over here - but one can't worry much or one would go insane.
Well, Mother, I must stop. I'll write often and now that we are allowed to censor our own letters - at least we sign there and then censor stamps them - I can write with more freedom. At first I was very careful and I am glad, as the censor at Le Tréport though a C of E clergyman used to discuss our letters quite freely and the less there was to repeat the better.
I am awfully contented and happy and wouldn't have missed this for worlds. Love to Papa and Don and Aunt Teddy etc. when you write.
Good-bye for now, Mother darling, and God bless you. I feel homesick at times naturally but I must not let you think it is a common occurrence for we haven't time to think much.
Heaps of love and please give my love to Mrs. Thomson -
Yours always -
Helen