Friends of France : $b The Field Service of the American Ambulance described by its members — John Shaqi
Friends of France : $b The Field Service of the American Ambulance described by its membersVarious
History
Friends of France : $b The Field Service of the American Ambulance described by its members
Various
American Field Service; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, American
We have drawn our impressions of Alsace chiefly from five or six towns
in a commercial valley. They are subject to long-range shelling and
bombs dropped from aeroplanes. Indeed, my first day in Alsace was
spent in the yard of a hospital contrived out of a schoolhouse. Our
cars were parked beneath the windows of one of its wings, and all
day long one heard the pitiful moans of a mother and her two little
daughters who had been wounded the night before when the Germans had
dropped half a dozen shells into the town where they lived.
But these towns seem to be, on the whole, cheerful, prosperous places.
Soldiers resting from the trenches flirt the time away with bilingual
Alsatian girls. Horns, claxons, and the hum of motors make in the
little mountain-smothered streets the noises of Broadway or Piccadilly.
The cafés and stores are full from morning until eight o'clock, when
all lights must be put out.
Nothing is taken by the soldiery without being paid for, a fact that
was brought sharply home to me on one occasion. We needed wood for the
kitchen-fire of a little dressing-station hidden on a tree-covered
mountain-top. I picked up an axe and started to get some exercise and
the wood for the fire at the same time; but the cook excitedly told me
that not even in that out-of-the-way place, unless he had the proper
military authorization, would he dare cut down a tree, because the
commune must be paid for, every twig of it.
But, interesting as these towns are, it is beyond them that we do our
most useful work. I am writing, as it happens, at a dressing-station
between the artillery and the infantry lines where two of our cars are
always on duty. The driver of the other car, eight months ago, was in
charge of a cattle ranch in the Argentine, and last May, a passenger
on the ill-fated Lusitania, was rescued after four hours in the water.
He is on his back tightening bolts underneath his car, and a hole in
the left sole of his projecting shoes tells of hours with the low speed
jammed on, for this is the way we have to drive down as well as up hill.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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