Nova Scotia/Nunavut Command of The Royal Canadian Legion www.ns.legion.ca 89 can take twice as many as St. Luke’s, and, of course, may have to take more than that at any time. Oh! My, but it is great. I just love it, even though it’s ten o’clock now and I have been on the go all day, and they have not started to come in yet. I see where we don’t get to bed tonight. By the time we get the poor souls into bed and half way clean and a dressing done, its morning before you know it, and the poor creatures, you would be sorry for them, they are so filthy, and many times just alive with vermin. Pearl said tonight: “isn’t it funny, in our hospital we despised men who were dirty, and here the worse they are, the better we like them.” When they say, “keep away sister, I’m so dirty, but I have been in the trenches, and I haven’t had a bath for so many weeks,” I just feel like saying, “I honor your dirt-!” I hear we are getting a consignment of Germans tonight. I wonder some times if it is a sin to feel so awful for our enemies. I don’t know if there is much in the papers at home about, them and the awful things they do. 4 a.m. - The ambulances started to come just then, so I had to stop, and now must turn in, as 7 a.m comes soon, and I will try to finish this tomorrow. Dec. 4. – It is time again to go to bed, I suppose, but it seems to be the only time for letter writing, and I know how you all at home must look for a line, and then it seems so far to send a letter with nothing in it. When we get our hospital in better running order, we may have more time; though, of course, we are all dreading the spring and the diseases that must come in this war. Our patients of last night are mostly happy today. I spend all the spare pennies I can find on cigarettes for them, poor boys, it seems to do more to quiet their nerves than anything else. I wish I could tell you some of their tales, but I’m afraid my letter would never go by the censor. One of my patients is just a lad of eighteen, and the nicest kind of a kid. He told me his two pals were shot and killed. I said: “Weren’t you awfully afraid?” “Yes sister,” he said, “I was awfully afraid at first; there was just thirty yards between the German trenches and ours; but I soon got over it. You see sister, it’s like this, there is no use trying to dodge them, if the bullet’s for you, you’ll get it.” He then asked me if it would be long before he could go back. “Why”, I said, “do you want to go back?” He just looked at me and said: “Does anybody want to go to Hell, sister?” and, poor kid, he will have to go back, because he is not very badly injured. Some of the tales they tell are awful, too terrible to write about. The “Jack Johnsons,” as the Tommies call the German’s big guns, are really devilish, and although we are as far from the firing as three-quarters of the way to Truro, still the guns can be heard quite distinctly at night. That will give you some idea what the noise must be close up, and is it any wonder that the poor boys’ nerves are in most cases completely gone, - but I must not write of such things. Miss McDonald was here to see us, and we were so glad to have her. She is so nice, and I get fonder of her all the time. If we are here, and if she can manage it, and a few more “if ’s” she is coming to spend Christmas with us. I suppose it will be nearly Christmas before you get this, possibly after. Give my love and best wishes to all the friends. I received some Halifax papers last night from Mr. Neilly, one of which gave a list of the Pictou County boys going in the next contingent. I was sorry not to see more familiar names from New Glasgow. I am afraid they don’t realize what this war means. I tell you it’s awful to think of when our boys come over, but I would be ashamed if Wendell was any place but right where he is now. Well, I must stop and turn in. HARRIET NOTES: The First Canadian Hospital (CSH) referred to in the letter (see photo below), was the first unit to set foot in France with the original staff qualifying for the “Mons Star” given to people serving in the war before Dec 31st, 1914. This letter was written to her parents, Harvey and Annie Graham Harriet Graham, (the writer of this letter) Daughter of Harvey and Annie Graham, was born in 1883 in New Glasgow and died in 1932. * buried at Riverside Cemetery. Others referred to in the letter, Wendell Stewart Graham, Harriet’s brother born 1879 and died in 1945. * Buried at Riverside Cemetery. Marjorie (Pearl) Fraser was the daughter of D.C. and Bessie Fraser and a 1st cousin to Wendell and Harriet. Marjorie continued ... continued ...
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