iles north of Gerbeviller. The Germans reached the village
at nine o'clock in the morning, and by half-past twelve they had looted
all the houses and were ready to burn the doomed city. The incendiary
wagons were filled with the firebrands stamped 1912. Beginning at the
southern end of the village, the German officers and soldiers looted
every house, shop, store and public building, and then set fire to the
town. At last they came to the extreme northern end, where a few houses
and the little hospital over which Sister Julie had charge, were still
standing.

About noon a German colonel with the blazing firebrand in his right hand
stood in front of Sister Julie's house. It has been said that there are
flaming swords in the eyes of every good woman. In that terrible hour
the face of Sister Julie proved the proverb. She told the German officer
that these few houses that were left were filled with wounded French
soldiers, with here and there a wounded German. The Hun answered that
his men would remove the Germans who were wounded, but that the
buildings must be fired. Behind him were several hundred buildings
blazing like one fiery furnace. Sister Julie stood squarely across the
path of the Hun. "While I live you shall not enter. You shall not kill
these dying men. I swear it by this crucifix! Your hands are already red
with blood. God dwells within this house. Look at this figure of Jesus,
who said, 'Woe unto him that offends against one of my little ones.
These shall go away into everlasting hell.' I myself will bear witness
against you. You have murdered our fifteen old men. All their lives long
these old men did us good and not evil. Look at the little girls you
have slain. God Himself will strike you dead." General Clauss stood
dumb. He was embarrassed beyond all words. Fear also got hold upon him.
He turned and disappeared into a group of his soldiers. Two or three
minutes passed by. A German colonel came to Sister Julie. He told her
that the houses used for wounded soldiers would be spared by General
Clauss provided Sister Julie would agree to continue her ministrations
to the wounded Germans lying in her hospital. As General Clauss already
knew that this had already been done, and would be, the Germans marched
away, leaving the hospital buildings uninjured. It was a victory of the
soul of a noble woman.

One morning last summer Sister Julie showed her decorations. Her face
was kind, gentle and motherly. Her atmosph