Finding Themselves: The Letters of an American Amy Chief Nurse in the British Hospital in FranceStimson, Julia C. (Julia Catherine)
History
Finding Themselves: The Letters of an American Amy Chief Nurse in the British Hospital in France
Stimson, Julia C. (Julia Catherine)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Hospitals; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
There is a remarkable spirit of service and glad service everywhere. Of
course there have been a few grumblers who have complained that they did
not come ’way out here to do this or that, but most of the men have been
converted by coming into contact with the attitude of men like Dr.
Murphy. All that has been necessary is a few words from him to make them
pretty much ashamed. And words haven’t been necessary often. For when
they realize that Dr. Murphy has not performed a single operation since
he has been here, but has been putting all his ability in organizing and
administering, and being up nights and days, seeing convoys out and
convoys in, seeing that they are all properly ticketed and all their
forms are properly made out, finding out why sufficient oil has not been
left for the lanterns of the night orderlies, why only 6 eggs were
delivered to one of the tents when 12 were ordered, letting the nurses
know who the right person is to give the up-patients permission who wish
to leave the compound to attend the Catholic Church across the road,
going personally to buy a better oil stove for the night-nurses’ supper
hut, finding out why the ward-master did not notify a particular nurse
long enough before a convoy was to go out so that her patient could be
ready, etc., etc.--when they realize all these things and a thousand
more that he is doing all the time that he did not come out to do, they
pretty generally shut up and put all their energies on the job that has
been given them.
Last night the Director saw a convoy come in just about midnight. It was
a pretty big bunch of men and it took some time. One was in such a
condition that he had to go to the operating room about 3. Dr. Clopton
operated. At 4.45 a convoy was sent out to catch a particular ambulance
train, and Dr. M. was down at The Point, as our receiving tent is
called, to see them off. At 7.30 he was at the service in our little
chapel, all the morning he was down in the tents conferring with the
other doctors and making plans to get the things they needed in their
work. At 2 he brought a Red Cross official to talk over some things in
their work with me, and I know that at 4.30 he had an appointment with
a neighboring Colonel. When he sleeps I know not. In the intervals of
doings like these he comes to ask me if I will make out a list of
magazines I would like for the nurses, or he sends roses and vases to
put them in! We are lucky to have such a man at the head of an
expedition like this. His kindness and genuine goodness reach down to
the most ordinary private. Late yesterday afternoon he was batting ball
with a bunch of enlisted men. They of course are crazy about him, as are
all the people who work with him. There is never a matter too trivial
for his attention or too vital and too important for discussion with
him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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