s,
the liver, the "vesicule biliaire," etc., etc.

From there I was called to a large military hospital at the time of
the attack in Champagne in September, 1915. Soon I was asked to
organize and superintend the Service of the Mussulman troops. At first
it was hard and unsatisfactory. I spoke only a few words of Arabic and
they spoke but little French. I had difficulty in overcoming the
contempt that the Mussulmans have for women. They were all severely
wounded and horribly mutilated, but the moral work was more tiring
than the physical.

However, little by little they got used to me and I to them. We became
the best of friends and I never experienced more simple childlike
gratitude than with these "Sidis." I remember one incident worth
quoting. I was suffering from a severe grippy cold--they saw that I
was tired and felt miserable. I left the ward for a few moments. On
returning I found that they had pushed a bed a little to one side in a
corner and had turned down the bed-clothes and placed a hot-water jug
in it (without hot water). The occupant was a Moroccan as black as the
ace of spades; he was trepanned but was allowed up a certain number of
hours a day. "Maman,"--they all called me Maman--"toi blessee, toi
ergut (lie down) nous tubibe (doctor) nous firmli (nurse)." And this
black, so-called savage, Moroccan took up his post beside the bed as I
had often done for him. I explained as best as I could that I would
have to have a permission signed by the Medecin-Chef, otherwise I
would be punished; and the Medecin-Chef had left the hospital for the
night. He shook his wise black head, "Maman blessee, Maman blessee!"

One called me one day and asked me what my Allah was like. I told him
I thought he was probably very much like his. Well! if my Allah was
not good to me, theirs would take care of me, they would see to that.

In May, 1916, I was asked to organize a war relief work[H] at the
request of the Service de Sante. This work was to provide the "grands
blesses et malades" with light nourishing food, in other words,
invalid food. The rules and regulations of the French military
hospitals are not sufficiently elastic to allow the administering of
such food. In time of war it would be easier almost to remove Mt.
Blanc than to change these rules and regulations. There was just one
solution--private war relief work.

[H] Le Bien--Etre du Blesse.

So, with great regret, I bade good-bye to these children I never