1915 Letter 14
France
April 9th, [1915]
My own darling Mother,
Your letters have been coming in regularly, also a Sat. Evening Post and a Standard from Papa. Had a letter from Holly too and she's trying to come across, her Mother having decided that she can manage without her. I do hope she comes it would be heavenly to have her to go around with over here. The girls here are all as good to us as they can be, but I'd love to have Holly. I have taken some snaps of the girls and will send them along soon -
To-day we have been busy unpacking Red Cross supplies, and starting the men off with new outfits. Really it is perfectly wonderful the things they have sent. Shirts, nightingales, bed-socks by the hundred, handkerchiefs and wash clothes, bandages, binders and a thousand other comforts. I was given a bundle of hankies for Eric and have sent them on to him. Am enclosing a letter from him which came today along with his eyeglasses which he doesn't need.
It is still cold and raining - in spite of all the lovely weather promised for April. We are still at the Moderne, as it is too chilly for tents - when there is no particular reason why we should leave here. It is rather ghastly here at times. We have some awful fools along with us, and many times daily I'd love to kill them. All the girls we know are down at the Sussex, and Boultbee and I nearly die here. I never thought women could be such d- fools. We have been so much with women lately that we are "fed up" I think.
Tell the "Daughters" that I gave away the last socks they gave me today Four of our patients were going out and they all needed socks - they were most grateful. I have never been so glad to have anything as those socks and if they have any more I'd love to have them. Be sure that I'll plant them where they'll do good work.
Miss Goodene, Boultbee and I spent our after noon in Boulogne, and certainly had a time. We had a bath at the [Crislot], bought a wonderful cake, and inspected most of the stores. The lingerie shops are a great temptation and I must lay in a stock while I am over here. Things are very cheap but are going up in price as there are so many Sisters around Boulogne who are all patronizing those shops. The really expensive things are wonderful. Some of the girls spent their leave in Paris and are in raptures over the city - but they say all the swell shops are closed and the people are very quiet - and mostly all in mourning.
The Matron took us into Boulogne in the O.C.'s motor and it certainly was delightful - even if it didn't last long. The road is along the cliffs and the scenery is grand. It has been so windy we haven't taken any walks at all - and it is a shame for the country round about is full of interesting little villages, chateaux, churches etc. Am enclosing some postcards to give you an idea of some of them.
Our hospital is an old story by this time, we are quite at home and to all outward appearances, spent our lives in tents. It is strange how quickly we adapt ourselves to the changing conditions. One thing only I can't accustom myself to is the bread - in long thin rolls and always fresh, and boiled milk - I hear it isn't safe unless boiled - but it also plays the deuce with my stomach. But I mustn't grouse as the English say for I am perfectly fine, as sunburned as can be, and don't know what it is to feel tired.
This hotel is very much like the one at Idyle Wyld would be at this time of year - and once we go to our rooms we beat it to bed. These blooming French people are so fussy - the gendarme comes round and orders lights out, as if he owned the earth. We can only sit in one room down stairs and they only till 9.30. I am writing in bed by the light of two candles - the only light we have - and I suppose I'll be told to put it out soon.
They are always having Zeppelin scares for our benefit and the police go around blowing their whistles, but nothing ever happens. It seems they must go through all this performance even if they are sure the aeroplanes are British or French. And I who used to be afraid of the dark, and a terrible coward - can't possible thrill a single thrill even over Zeppelin scares. I think my nerves must be ok, don't you?
This afternoon we were off from 5.00 and Miss Goodene, Dorothy Winter, Boultbee and I had tea at the club - real English toast and bun and salty butter, afterwards we went for a walk along the beach. The waves were quite high and the sunset was magnificent. We could see a light house in England, winking through the haze, and the one near Calais. We seem thousands of miles from the war, though every where there are evidences of it. It is hard to realize we are so near, for our daily round is just as uneventful as if we were at home.
Did you like my photos? I'm sending you some more, and you can give them away as you like. So many of the girls like the full face one best - and I have only three of them but can easily order more. Let me know how many you want. I have written Eric again about his, and will do my best to get some for you.
I want a pair of bandage scissors and can't get them over here or in England, so I am writing to one of the girls in Toronto to send a pair and will have the bill sent to you so don't be surprised if it comes. I can't think of anything else I need except half a dozen more veils - which are always necessary as they wear out so quickly. The last ones you made - out of that muslin from Eaton's, are the best. A cake now and then would come in handy too, but I guess the postage is too great for the value. I have a dear little tea pot and cosy and am getting a little brass kettle - for we often have a cup of tea in our room. Tea or coffee is not included except at breakfast, so we often make our own after dinner at night.
Well Mother, darling, I must get to sleep, what do you want to know about? I suppose I forget half of the things you're dying to hear about. Make a list - and I promise to answer them all.
I sent Aunt Lauder some post cards - though whether they ever reached her - is quite another story. Her rug has been my chiefest joy and is on my bed. I think my outfit's as complete as possible, my dressing gown and sweater have paid for themselves many times over.
Love to Papa and Don and every one. I really haven't time to write to Della etc. - so you can use your own judgment about reading your letters to them.
I'd love to walk in to see you to-night though it is only afternoon over there. Won't we have wonderful talks over all this? Good-night now, Mother dear,
Your loving daughter,
Helen
No. 1 Canadian Stationary Hospital
British Exped. Force
Boulogne Base
France
2 cents is enough postage for France.