Chapter 2

Le Mans

WOUNDED FROM THE AISNE

September 15, 1914, to October 11, 1914

"No easy hopes or lies Shall bring us to our goal, But iron sacrifice Of body, will, and soul. There is but one task for all-- For each one life to give, Who stands if freedom fall? Who dies if England live?"--RUDYARD KIPLING.

Station duty--On train duty--Orders again--Waiting to go--Still at Le Mans--No.-- Stationary Hospital--Off at last--The Swindon of France.

Tuesday, September 15th.--The train managed to reach Le Mans at 1 A.M. this morning, and kindly shunted into a siding in the station till 6.30 A.M., so we got out our blankets and had a bit of a sleep. At 7 a motor ambulance took us up to No.-- Stationary Hospital, which is a rather grimy Bishop's Palace, pretty full and busy. The Sisters there gave us tea and biscuits, and we were then sorted out by the Senior Matron, and billeted singly. I'm in a nice little house with a garden with an old French lady who hasn't a word of English, and fell on my neck when she found I could understand her, and patter glibly and atrociously back. My little room has a big window over the garden, and will, I suppose, be my headquarters for the present in between train and station duty, which I believe is to be our lot. We go to a rather dim café for meals, and shall then learn what the duty is to be. It is yet a long time coming. We haven't had a meal since the day before yesterday, so I shall be glad when 12 o'clock comes. Now for a wash.

Wednesday, September 16th.--Still here: only four of the twenty-five (five sets of five) who formed our unit have been found jobs so far: two are taking a train of sick down to St Nazaire, and two have joined No.-- Stationary Hospital in the town. We still await orders! This is a first-class War for awaiting orders for some of us.

Yesterday it poured all day. We explored the Cathedral, which is absolutely beautiful, perched high up over an open space--now crowded with transport and motor ambulances. We made tea in my quarters, and then explored the town; narrow streets thronged with Tommies as usual.

We have lunch at eleven and dinner at seven, at a dingy little inn through a smelly back yard; there is not much to eat, and you fill up with rather nasty bread and unripe pears, and drink a sort of flat cider, as the water is not good.

To-day it is sunny again. I have just been to High Mass (Choral), and taken photos of the Cathedral and the Market below, where I got four ripe peaches for 1-1/2d.

Writing in the garden of Mme. Bontevin, my landlady.

There is any amount of work here at the Bishop's Palace; more than they can get through on night duty with bad cases, and another Jesuit College has been opened as No.-- Stationary. Went up to No.-- S. this afternoon where F---- has been sent, to see her; she asked me to go out and buy cakes for six wounded officers. They