Chapter I

A House Divided Against Itself --In the Beginning There Was Light But No Funds--
The Age Limit for Women

THE Balkan Peninsula lies between the devil and the deep sea. It is the natural path between Europe and Asia; the trail of invaders from both directions, dark Tartars and "white Huns"; the highway of the western push of the Turks for hundreds of years, and the eastern pressure of the Germans during this day and age; a rich poaching ground for neighboring nations, and a handy pawn for the great powers at times of negotiation.

Bound on the north by the Magyars, et al, on the south by the Turks, on the east by the Tartars and the "Reds," on the west by the Pope, on the southwest by the Caliph, in the center by the Patriarch and the Macedonian Comitadjis, and in every direction by disturbers of the peace, this stretch of territory is, and always has been, geographically, politically, and religiously adapted to the development of history making episodes.

Political and religious crimes are common in the Balkans and adjacent countries round about the Black Sea, across the Bosphorus, and along the coast of Asia Minor. Incidents, which would be classed as epochal in Western Europe, pass without notice in these bad lands, unless outsiders are involved. The dramatic unities would have been violated if fate had sent the Grand Duke Ferdinand in any other direction to start the World War, and the chances are the explosion would have held fire until some "incident" in the Balkans, or the Near East, could be used to set it off.

In a general way, the history of this part of the earth's surface may be divided into three periods: before the Turk, under the Turk, and after the Turk. Long, long before the Turk, the spiritual and intellectual life which survives in our present day western world, divinely planted in the minds of men, developed in the southern section of the Balkan Peninsula, the Ægean Islands, and along the coast of Asia Minor. This is the glory that was---and is Greece.

The goal of the Ancient Greeks was a dominant world culture, and, with the help of their enemies in different ages, this goal has been realized in large measure. Efforts to stamp out Hellenism in the land of its nativity spread it broadcast over the western world. Uprooted by Turkish whirlwinds and scattered over fertile fields, it took root and became a vital part of the civilization under which we live.

At the dawn of the Renaissance, the Balkans caught the gleam of the rising sun, which was almost immediately eclipsed by the spreading power of Islam. During the centuries of this relapse, the dark age south of the Danube seemed darker by contrast with the light and life of western Europe. Wherever the Turk ruled, the status of the unbeliever was reduced to the lowest possible point. Those of conquerable soul accepted the "Faith" and joined the governing class, while those of unconquerable soul watched, waited, hoped, prayed, and fought like devils for the day of deliverance and the glory of God.

During the fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, and part of the seventeenth centuries, the conquering hordes of the Sultan carried the Crescent steadily toward the northwest, subjugating country after country. If the defenders of the Cross, the Pope and Patriarch, had combined their forces, they might have stopped this movement at any stage. But the prayers of the "Faithful" seemed as potent then as they are now: "Allah unite not the Giaours!"

The Christian church was a house divided against itself. The Roman Catholic countries of Europe were not worrying about the Orthodox Catholic countries of the Balkans, which the Turks were conquering. There was an element of retribution in their subjugation. But when Hungary fell into the hands of the infidels, Hungary, the undefiled, and fair Austria and Poland stood next in line, there was howling and gnashing of teeth and calling to arms throughout all Europe.

At the gates of Vienna, John Sobieski, the Polish King of blessed memory, turned the Turks backward toward Asia. As soon as they were south of the Danube in the domain of the Patriarch, the western world rejoiced and began to discern some justification in their occupation of that territory, at least until it became convenient for the more enlightened nations of the North to take over the responsibility.

But the Serbians, Roumanians, Greeks and other Balkan peoples wanted to be free. Generation after generation, their children were born and dedicated to the task of liberating the land. United they might easily have accomplished this end, but they were naturally incompatible, and their enemies fostered internal quarrels, pointing with diplomatic deprecation to the "cock-pit of Europe," while doing their utmost to keep the fight going. In spite of all these handicaps and difficulties, the invaders were gradually dislodged during the past hundred years. In 1912, those little countries got together for a final drive and would have finished the job by the Balkan War, but separate national interests were hard to adjust, and again a division was effected by outside influences operating in favor of Turkey, for the purpose of maintaining the "balance of power."

Then came the World War and Turkey joined the Central Empires. While the great Christian nations were engaged in the barbarous business of killing each other on a colossal scale, they could hardly protest against the Turks participating in the general carnage within their own borders. In accordance with the policy of Turkification, a monstrous scheme for the extermination of Armenians was put into practice during the early years of the war. Turkey doubtless anticipated a rich reward and large territory to Turkify if the Central Powers won; but they lost, and the surviving Christian minorities thought the day of deliverance from Turkish rule was at hand. It was---but not in the way they had hoped and anticipated. The Allies failed of their promises. The Bolshevik Revolution in Russia destroyed the protective influence of the Russian Orthodox Church, and the defeat of the Greek Army in Anatolia in 1922 left the Christian population at the mercy of their Turkish masters.

The holocaust at Smyrna was the spectacular finale of the general Christian clean-up in Turkey. "Giaour Ismir," the Infidel City, went up inflames, and the Christian people fled for their lives from every part of the country. With this fact accomplished, the Turks sat down with the Allies at Lausanne, a few months later, to negotiate terms of peace, and probably did as well for themselves as they would have done if they had been negotiating with the triumphant Central Powers.

A moving picture called The Ten Commandments, featuring the exodus of the children of Israel from Egypt, was widely shown in different countries several years ago, and even while this picture was being filmed in America, the Exodus of the Children of Christianity from Turkey, the greatest migration in the history of mankind, was actually taking place.

Market Place, Serajevo, Yugoslavia, 1933. The World War was started at Serajevo (Old Bosnia), by the assassination of the Grand Duke Ferdinand of Austria.

Dr. Effie Richards Graff, examining a lovely child at a "Well Babies Clinic."

Three refugees---physician, nurse and patient.

"A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM" These three women, who were almost blind, were led by different children from their neighborhood to the A.W.H. Eye Clinic for treatment.

I was on the railroad pier at Smyrna during most of the daylight hours from September 24-30, 1922, the week of the great evacuation. Bent with the weight of all their worldly possessions which they carried on their backs, approximately three hundred thousand Christian people, mostly women and children, walked the plank---the long plank pier, their Via Dolorosa, to the refugee ships on which they were transported from their native land to Greece.

The picture of the biblical exodus falls far short of the Smyrna spectacle, but in many respects the old story repeats itself---the suffering, murmuring, despair, death and failure of faith. In the light of the recent experience, it is easier to understand the statement: "But as for you, your carcasses, they shall fall in the wilderness. And your children shall wander in the wilderness for forty years."

An uprooted nation cannot replant itself in less than one human season, a generation. Some of the children of Christianity from Turkey are still wandering in the "wilderness" of Greece, especially in the less accessible districts of Macedonia and Thrace. Over a million have gradually adjusted themselves to a new life, and thousands are still shifting from place to place, seeking non-malarial and earthquake-free districts where they can establish permanent homes. The prophesy has again been fulfilled. Uncounted "Carcasses" have fallen in the "wilderness."

From the beginning of this great migration physicians and nurses of the American Women's Hospitals moved with the outcasts from island to island and from shore to hinterland. Hospitals, clinics, food stations, a quarantine island and camps for pestilential diseases have been conducted, and a larger service for the sick, among these refugees in Greece, has been carried by our organization than that of all other American agencies combined. This work is still going on.

How did the American women in our service happen to be in the immediate field at the time of this epochal call? How did I happen to be on the railroad pier at Smyrna when the Christian population of that old city left the land of their fathers to take refuge in the only country which would receive them? The answer to these questions might involve the history of the feminist movement since Eve moved out of Eden, or it might be covered by the universal answer to difficult questions, employed in France between 1914 and 1918, to wit, "C'est la Guerre."

C'est la Guerre. This was the beginning---the first reason why the American Women's Hospitals was established by the Medical Women's National Association in 1917, for the purpose of serving the sick in war-stricken countries. The plan expanded in answer to the needs, and medical relief work has been and is now being conducted in different parts of the world. This service has not been a bed of roses. Sometimes it has been a bed of straw in a box car, a rug on the deck of a sailing smack, or a cot in a typhus camp. Our hospitalers have endured discomforts, survived diseases and manifold dangers, but they have lived abundantly and stored up riches within themselves upon which they may draw as the years go by. They can never be poor though they die in the almshouse---the place would be enriched by their presence.

As a humanitarian achievement the American Women's Hospitals holds a unique place in the field of foreign relief. This service is best known by those who have been sick and in distress, and unfortunately, few such people write for newspapers and periodicals. We have never been rich enough to maintain a publicity department, at home or abroad, for the purpose of keeping the details of our work before the public, and hereby hangs many a tale untold--- many a thrilling story of heroism, and many an interesting item, which might have been added to Associated Press dispatches and cabled around the world to our advantage

This relief agency, which was inaugurated while the United States was mobilizing for war, is the outgrowth of the desire of American medical women for their share of the work they were qualified to perform. Our Government provided for the enlistment of nurses, but not for women physicians. This was a mistake. It is utterly impossible to leave a large number of well-trained women out of a service in which they belong, for the reason that they won't stay out.

The men of the medical profession were called to the colors. The nation stood ready to provide transportation, buildings, medical and hospital supplies, rations, rank, salary, insurance and well-fitting shoes. We were grateful for the opportunity of service and concomitant blessings enjoyed by our professional brothers, and from the standpoint of our disadvantage, we rejoiced in their good fortune.

The women of the medical profession were not called to the colors, but they decided to go anyway. War Service Committees had been appointed by groups of medical women in different states for the purpose of organizing hospital units. Anticipating the course of the country, Dr. Josephine Walter and other New York medical women had organized the Woman's Army General Hospital Unit, for New York City, in July, 1916, almost a year before this nation joined the Allies. Preliminary work of a similar nature had been undertaken by the women physicians of Massachusetts and other states.

The Medical Women's National Association, which met in New York in June, 1917, adopted a naive resolution calling upon the War Department for a square deal regardless of sex, color, or previous condition of servitude. This resolution was supplemented by the creation of a War Service Committee, after which we probably sang, "We won't come back, till it's over, over there." Actual warfare is over, over there, but we are concerned with the care of the sick, the healing of wounds and the rebuilding of human lives. Our work is not yet over, over there, and for this reason we have not come back.

Dr. Bertha Van Hoosen, who was president of the Medical Women's National Association in 1917, appointed Dr. Rosalie Slaughter Morton of New York City, chairman of the War Service Committee, in which capacity she served for one year. At the first meeting called by the chairman on June 9, 1917, I was authorized to go to Europe as the official representative of the Medical Women's National Association, and instructed to confer with Dr. Anna Howard Shaw, who had just been appointed Chairman of the Women's Committee, National Council of Defense, by the War Department. This committee had been created for the purpose of coördinating the activities of the organized bodies of women in the United States.

A conference of the presidents and representatives of forty national, state and other associations of women, met in Washington, June 19, 1917. Dr. Anna Howard Shaw presided. Mr. Hoover urged the conservation of food and the support of the American Red Cross. Dr. Eliza M. Mosher of Brooklyn, N. Y., was delegate from the Medical Women's National Association. Her appointment was peculiarly fitting. The soul of the service represented was symbolized in her personality. Tall, straight, strong, unconscious of her three-score years and ten, her impressive figure might well have been chosen as a model for "The Woman Physician" and copied in bronze as an inspiration to future generations. With a background of almost half a century of service in the medical profession, she looked forward eagerly to the high duties of the immediate future, briefly and vividly stating the case of the American women physicians, calling attention to the handicaps under which they were working, reporting the appointment of the War Service Committee of the Medical Women's National Association, and bespeaking the cooperation of other organizations of women in plans for the relief of the sick and wounded at home and abroad.

The suffering of noncombatant populations, particularly women and children, in war-stricken countries, was discussed at length, and the following resolution, drafted by Ellis Meredith, and introduced by Dr. Mosher, was adopted:

WHEREAS the Red Cross has recently sent a Commission of seventeen men abroad to investigate needs, and

WHEREAS the Medical Women's National Association has asked Dr. Esther Lovejoy to go to France to investigate the condition of women, THEREFORE BE IT

RESOLVED, That we ask the Red Cross to add Dr. Lovejoy to their commission.

This resolution was not acted upon favorably by the American Red Cross, but it introduced, the Medical Women's National Association at a time when plans for war relief work by different groups were in process of incubation, and was the forerunner of friendly relations which have been maintained for the past ten years. The Red Cross helped us from the beginning with good counsel at home and large quantities of supplies in the field of service. Dr. Morton, Dr. Mary M. Crawford, Dr. Caroline Purnell, Dr. Inez Bentley, Mrs. Charlotte Conger and other representatives of the American Women's Hospitals conferred with the Red Cross officials regarding all of our early plans, to the end that this service was arranged to fit into the general plan for the relief of suffering.

Physicians and nurses in the service of the American Women's Hospitals have received sixty-two decorations from foreign governments. Some of the badges of these orders are shown above. 1--Badge of the Legion on Honor (France). 2--Gold Cross of the Order of the Holy Sepulcher (Orthodox, Jerusalem). 3--Order of the White Eagle (Servia). 4--Médaille de la Reconnaissance Française. 5--War Cross of Greece. 6--Gold Cross of the Order of King George I of Greece. 7--Grand Commander Order of the Redeemer (Greece). 8--Order of Saint Sava (Serbia).


Eliza M. Mosher, M.D. Honorary President

Bertha Van Hoosen, M.D.

Etta Gray, M.D.

Martha Tracy, M.D.

Elizabeth Bass, M.D.

Grace N. Kimball, M.D.

Kate C. Mead, M.D.

Katherine C. Manion, M.D.

Anna E. Blount, M.D.

Frances E. Rose, M.D.

Louise Tayler-Jones, M.D.
1928-29; Mem. Ex. Bd. A.W.H.

Ellen C. Potter, M.D.

Olga Statsny, M.D.

L. Rosa H. Gantt, M.D.

Mary O'Malley, M.D.


In the beginning there was light, but no funds. Our workers were all volunteers and paid for the privilege by financing, according to their means, part of the service in which they were engaged. The cost of travel, equipment, supplies, and general overhead was carried in this way. Week after week, month after month, the American Women's Hospitals grew, and naturally suffered growing pains. Active, honorary, and advisory committees were appointed, and an auxiliary board, of which Miss Emily O. Butler of New York was chairman, rendered valuable service in securing funds. Inspirational meetings were held and gifts of clothing, surgical instruments, ambulances, and other equipment were received. The following is quoted from the report of Dr. Rosalie Slaughter Morton, first Chairman of the War Service Committee of the Medical Women's National Association, at the end of her term of service, June, 1918.

To the President The Medical Women's National Association I have the honor to submit the following report:

The American Women's Hospitals was organized and put in operation in June, 1917, by the War Service Committee of the Medical Women's National Association. I was appointed chairman of the Executive Committee, and associated with me were Dr. Emily Dunning Barringer, vice-chairman; Dr. Mary Merrit Crawford, corresponding secretary; Dr. Frances Cohen, recording secretary; Dr. Belle Thomas, associate corresponding secretary; Dr. Sue Radcliff, treasurer. This committee has been gradually increased as the need of the work demanded, and the following names have been added: Dr. Mathilda K. Wallin, second vice-chairman; Dr. Caroline M. Purnell, third vice-chairman; Dr. Marie L. Chard, assistant treasurer; Dr. Gertrude A. Walker, chairman of Finance Committee; Mrs. Conger, executive secretary; Miss Bertha Rembaugh, Counselor.

This report definitely answers a question which subsequently arose regarding the founding of the American Women's Hospitals. The findings of a special committee (Doctors Eliza M. Mosher, Mathilda K. Wallin and Sue Radcliff) appointed in 1922 are in accordance with the statement made above. This service was not founded by an individual, but by the Medical Women's National Association through its War Service Committee.

Dr. Ruth Parmelee (right), Dr. Elfie R. Graff and Miss Phillips, at the Temple of Æsculapius, Epidaurus, Greece

Elizabeth B. Thelberg, M.D.,
Pres. Medical Women's Nat. Association, 1927-28, with one of her grandchildren.


Over a thousand women physicians registered with the American Women's Hospitals during the first year, and in accordance with the provisions of a special agreement, a large number of these were certified to the Red Cross for service in France, Italy, Poland and the Balkan States. The following cable regarding this matter was sent in March, 1918, by Henry P. Davison, American Red Cross:

Perkins, Harjes, Paris.

Heartily favor accepting offer of American Women's Hospitals to organize personnel for hospitals or dispensaries to serve in any country under direction of American Red Cross. Dispensaries and hospitals to be known as American Women's Hospitals of American Red Cross, in charge women doctors, subject to general control and direction of Red Cross Commission. May be used for civil or military purposes under your direction. This plan meets with entire approval of Medical Advisory Board and War Council provided you recommend. Advise whether you approve and if so how many such dispensaries or hospitals you can use to advantage and size of each unit.


Calls for service were received from different directions, but funds were lacking. Our leaders were physicians of the old school without experience in the business of getting money in a business way. While millions were being collected by other organizations in the year 1917, very little was received for this work. Finally, in 1918, a campaign committee was appointed under the chairmanship of Dr. Gertrude A. Walker, adequate funds were secured and the American Women's Hospitals began to function.

Esther Pohl Lovejoy, M.D.
Chmn. Ex. Bd. A.W.H., Pres. Med. Women's International Assoc., 1919-24; Pres. Med. Wom. Nat. Assoc., 1932-33.

Gertrude A. Walker, M.D.
Vice-Chairman Ex. Bd., A.W.H., 1919-1928; Chairman Campaign Committee, 1917-1919.

Mathilda K. Wallin, M.D.

Inez A. Bentley, M.D.
Recording Secretary

Harriet F. Coffin, M.D.
Second Vice-Chairman

Marie L. Chard, M.D.
Third Vice-Chairman

Angenette Parry, M.D.
Pres. Med. Women's National Assoc., 1918-19

Ethel Day Brown, M.D.
Treas. Med. Women's National Assoc., 1927-29


As a volunteer, I sailed for France in August, 1917, on the old ship Chicago. The Red Cross had notified our committee that the age limit for women acceptable for overseas service was, with special exceptions, between 25 and 40 years. The official old age limit for men was fifty-five, and the large number of mature commissioners aboard suggested that his ruling had been made by men who could qualify under it. But 40 was the feminine limit and all the women on the Chicago were doing their best to conform to this requirement.

Rosalie S. Morton, M.D.
Chmn. Ex. Bd. A.W.H.

Mary M. Crawford, M.D.
Chmn. Ex. Bd. A.W.H.

Emily D. Barringer, M.D.
Vice-Chmn. Ex. Bd. A.W.H.

Caroline M. Purnell, M.D.

Sue Radcliff, M.D.

Frances Cohen, M.D.


An atmosphere of hope and expectation pervaded the ship. None of us knew just what we were going to do, but we all entertained an inward and outward conviction that we had been appointed to live at this day and age for good and sufficient reasons which would be revealed in due time. Dr. Alice Barlow Brown, with a nurse and interpreter, had been sent over by the American Fund for French Wounded. They were assigned for duty in the Meurthe-et-Moselle, and I joined the medical staff of the Children's Bureau of the American Red Cross at Paris. My special job was to investigate and report on organizations applying for relief, and my duties took me into different parts of France, and offered unusual opportunities for making observations which were afterward embodied in a report to the Medical Women's National Association.

Evangeline Caven, M.D.
Serb. Child Welfare Assoc.

Anna M. Grove, M.D.
Smith College Unit

Clara Williams, M.D.
Near East Relief

At the beginning of the second year of the American Women's Hospitals service, Dr. Mary M. Crawford of New York City, my predecessor, was appointed chairman of the Executive Board, and served until June, 1919. During her incumbency, medical women were sent to serve in different parts of Europe and near eastern countries, our coöperative work with other organizations was extended, and our independent work was established in France and started in Serbia, Armenia and Turkey.

Chapter II

Medical Service on the Marne ---All Souls' Day at Luzancy---A.W.H. Dentistry---
A Grand Pandora Box of Surgical Diseases---Two Home Towns

THE American Women's Hospital No. 1 was opened in the Village of Neufmoutiers, Seine et Marne, in July, 1918, under the direction of Dr. Barbara Hunt, of Bangor, Maine. A building was assigned for this purpose by the Sixth French Army with the understanding that the hospital should be available for both civil and military cases. This was the first hospital conducted and financed entirely by our committee. I should like to say that it ran like clockwork from the beginning, but this would not be the truth. As a matter of fact, it ran like most of the hospitals in the war zone, in a very uncertain fashion, but it stayed in the field, gaining strength as time went by. Within a few months, as the Germans evacuated territory, our hospital moved joyously toward the north, where the need was greater and the facilities for work much better.

The following account is taken largely, and sometimes quoted verbatim from the letters and reports of Dr. Hunt, Dr. M. Louise Hurrell, Dr. Ethel V. Fraser, Dr. Hazel D. Bonness and other medical women, who served with Hospital No. 1 in the field, and from the reports of Dr. Caroline M. Purnell and Dr. Frances Cohen, who visited France as special commissioners of the American Women's Hospitals.

History was being made rapidly during the summer months of 1918. France was holding her breath in expectation of the renewed offensive, and the struggle for the possession of the Marne at Chateau-Thierry was still swaying back and forth in uncertainty. There were nightly raids on Paris, only twenty miles away, and at dawn we were wakened by the dull thunder of guns and flashes of light toward the northeast. Bombs were dropped on neighboring villages occasionally by the "Gothas," and the Allied Air Squadrons, great "V" shaped wedges, like flocks of geese 25 to 30 in number, with small scouting machines patrolling their flanks, swept overhead daily on their way to the front.

In the midst of this excitement, our hospital building was prepared for use as quickly as possible. The furniture was packed, carpets taken up by a squad of "poilus," and four large rooms converted into wards with a capacity of fifty beds. The servants' dining room, with painted walls, tiled floor and running water, was chosen for the operating room, and a small round tower room adjoining, reserved for the use of our radiologist.

The Allied counter drive, destined to end the war, was begun July eighteenth. For several days before this the gray-blue and khaki-clad soldiers had been disappearing from the district, and within a week our commanding officer ordered building repairs and preparations discontinued. The Army had moved back into the Aisne and our refugees were returning to their homes. A new location in the devastated region was to be assigned for our hospital, and in the meantime two physicians, with nurses, were to proceed at once to Meaux to assist in the treatment of wounded French soldiers arriving by ambulance from the front.

While waiting for the promised new location in the devastated region, medical dispensaries were opened and also a dental service established at Neufmoutiers. At this time, one of our doctors with an ambulance was making daily visits to villages in the Aisne, holding consultations and bringing the sick to the hospital. Most of the refugees were picking up their meager belongings and trudging back to their homes, and in September we, too, packed up our troubles, and moved to the village of Luzancy-sur-Marne, fifteen miles from Chateau-Thierry.

Our hospital was installed in the Luzancy Chateau. The building had been in almost constant use as a hospital since the beginning of the war, first by the Germans, then by the French, and last by our own Americans. This was a dear old place, with a frontage on the bank of the Marne. Which bank? The Marne meanders up and down and around about regardless of geographic direction. The Luzancy Chateau and grounds occupied territory in one of the many loops of this winding stream. There was no compass in our equipment, but the A. W. H. workers got along very well without knowing their exact position in relation to one of the most famous rivers on the face of the earth.

From a purely picturesque standpoint, the Marne was lovely at Luzancy, and the park a wild and woodsy place where startled birds and pert little chipmunks darted here and there among the trees during daylight hours, and bats, owls and real fireflies came out at night. Sunlight or moonlight, these woods were enchanting; shifting beams of light were always breaking through the leafy foliage, casting elusive shadows, such as were caught on canvas by Corot, who at one time lived in a house overlooking these grounds.

While the general clean-up was in progress, and the different systems of the building were being restored to running conditions, and whitewashers were doing their utmost to make a ravishing but infected old chateau look like a clean new hospital, thirteen dispensaries were established in outlying districts to meet the immediate need for medical assistance. The passage of troops, and the occupation of villages by large numbers of soldiers in the spring and summer of 1918, had resulted in a scarcity of food and a very insanitary state of affairs. The returning refugees were in a run-down physical condition. The stage was set for epidemics. Diphtheria and scarlet fever appeared. These diseases were soon controlled, but typhoid and influenza, spreading over the district, reached the proportions of a disaster.

The installation of the American Women's Hospital No. 1, with village dispensaries and ambulance service, seemed heaven sent at that critical time. Hundreds of people were sick, and the district was practically without medical supplies or physicians, except the two women doctors with the American Committee for Devastated France who were working in association with our corps.

While the typhoid infection was widespread, it was more malignant in some places than in others. Twelve virulent cases developed in a nearby village, four of which were children belonging to the same family. The courtyard of this home was reeking with filth and swarming with flies. One after another the children sickened and died, and the poor mother was almost frantic when her last child was taken to our hospital. Fortunately, this little one recovered.

During the typhoid epidemic, which lasted three months, our medical staff became emergency health officers. Double shod with supplementary sabots, they shuffled through barnyard filth from one hovel to another. Streets and courtyards were cleaned, decaying debris dug out of holes and corners, and these disease breeding spots liberally sprinkled with disinfectants. Most of the villages were without drainage, and the members of our organization who served in France were personally familiar with such plumbing fixtures as existed in the war zone---but this is a subject for diplomats.

As a preventive measure, practically the entire population in infected areas was given anti-typhoid inoculations. Notices were posted and announcements made by the town crier regarding the time and place chosen for this work. Sometimes the village bell, which usually tolled for ceremonies or calamities, was rung. When the people assembled, which they always did promptly, to hear what new troubles impended, the official speaker explained that the Germans were not coming, but that typhoid fever in a virulent form had appeared in the community; that it was possible to prevent this disease by anti-typhoid inoculations, and that American women physicians were present, and prepared to give these treatments.

The following is a copy of an official notice regarding our anti-typhoid activities:

The town crier supplemented this announcement. The people assembled at the Town Hall where seventy-five were vaccinated by two of our doctors, who afterward went to the next commune to do similar work. A thorough antityphoid campaign was conducted throughout our district, with the result that this disease was on the decline when influenza appeared.

Shut off from the rest of the world, our workers did not know that influenza was sweeping over the earth like a prairie fire, and the villagers wondered why they were afflicted with one scourge after another. Here again the American women doctors and nurses seemed heaven-sent, as they would have been in any part of the world where this death-dealing plague was raging.

Calls came from every direction. The French officials forgot their other duties in their anxiety for the sick. The cars and ambulances of the American Women's Hospitals were running day and night, and before the end of this epidemic we were caring for the sick in over a hundred villages.

These poor people were ill prepared for such a visitation. Twice during the war they had been driven from their homes, and for four years had lived from hand to mouth in strange places. In the fall of 1918 they had crept back behind the advancing American and French armies, and had taken refuge under any sort of shelter they could find near their ruined homes. Stricken with influenza in these cold, damp places, many of them developed pneumonia and died. Time after time the ambulances of the American Women's Hospitals were stopped on the highway by officials of different districts asking for help, and letters making similar requests were received daily. One of these letters was addressed to Monsieur le Directeur de l'Hôpital Militaire de Luzancy. The translation reads as follows:

Because of the epidemic of grippe, which actually exists in the Commune of Dhuisy and particularly in the Commune of Grigny Coulomb, First Lieutenant Escoffier, army doctor of the Cantonment at Germigny Coulomb, has the honor to ask that immediate succor (doctors and nurses) should be assured to the numerous sick whose condition is being aggravated, lacking medicine and other necessary care. With thanks in advance pray accept, Monsieur le Directeur, my respectful salutations.

This officer manifestly did not know that our work was conducted by women, but when help is needed in such emergencies, sex is immaterial. The influenza in the communes mentioned above was of a malignant type and the death rate very high. Our physicians and nurses passed from house to house seeking the sick, and at one wretched place a family of six stricken with this disease was found and taken to the hospital.

Meanwhile, other branches of the American Women's Hospitals' service were developing, as the following excerpts, quoted from letters, clearly indicate:

Dr. Manwaring came in late last night, tired but contented, with sixty-five patients in a radius of thirty miles to her credit. From the opposite direction, Dr. Fraser and Miss Drummond appeared. They had been sent, several days before, to arrange for a hospital at La Ferté-Milon, and returned with tales of shell holes in their damp, fireless bedrooms, but happy and enthusiastic regarding the outlook. The hospital building is being repaired, and a dispensary service to outlying villages is already being operated from that center.

Our dispensary under Dr. Mary MacLachlan at Luzancy grows and grows. On Sunday, the place looked absolutely affluent. In addition to the usual crowd, which in spite of weakness from sickness, walks impossible distances, there were five conveyances lined up with patients from ever so far away. Yes, we work on Sundays! It is wicked, but there is no chance to go to church anyway, and as a choice of sins, under the circumstances, it would be more sinful to rest.

The American Women's Hospital at Luzancy was fully equipped for military service, when it was inspected and accepted by General LeMoine, director of the Medical Corps of the Fifth Division, as a French military hospital. It was known as "Hôpital No. 92 bis," and was to be used by the Sixth Army. The hospital for civilian relief was conducted in another part of the building. The work of this unit proved so satisfactory that the American Red Cross sent for six more units of the same kind. In October, 1918, the following cable regarding this matter was transmitted to our New York headquarters:

28051 Please communicate the following to H. P. Davison.

16010 8936 Send at once two American Women's Hospital units, and one per month hereafter until six are floated. These hospitals will be known as the American Women's Hospitals Units, Nos. 1 to 6 of the American Red Cross, and will be used under arrangements with the French Service de Santé in French Hospitals, where sick and wounded Americans may be received, or in French Hospitals caring for refugees. Believe arrangements concluded with French service will make for utilization of these units in such a manner as can render greatest amount of service.

Personnel should include ten medical officers and ten aids. We will supply nurses. Should bring hospital equipment and tentage of standard U. S. Army Bed Camp Hospital, and be paid as far as possible out of funds already collected by American Women's Hospitals.

Desirable that one truck, one camionette and one touring car, with chauffeurs, should be provided and accompany each unit.

Personnel will be held with unit if possible, but must come recognizing that they are part of general American Red Cross service and subject to rules and directions.


This was a big order, but hundreds of well qualified medical women, registered from the different states, were anxious for service, and it was merely a matter of selection. The first two groups, the Chicago and California units, were organized and ready to sail when the armistice was signed.

All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day will never be forgotten by the American personnel who were serving at the Luzancy Hospital in 1918. In happier years these days may have been observed in an impersonal, ceremonial way. But All Souls' Day in 1918 was All Souls' Day in France.

Dr. Barbara Hunt, first director, American Women's Hospitals, France.

Dr. Mary Evans, Hospital No. 1, Luzancy, France.

Dr. M. Ethel Fraser, Director of Hospital No. 2, visiting the sick in her district.

Executive Committee, American Women's Hospitals, Luzancy, France. Dr. M. Louise Hurrell, Director (right); Dr. Inez Bentley, Assistant Director (center); Mrs. Emilie Lehman, Commissary, 1919.

Lillian Pettengill, R.N., Head nurse, Luzancy Hospital

Miss Emily G. Cheney, Nurses' Aid, Luzancy.

The Luzancy Chateau, our hospital building, had formerly been used as an evacuation hospital for the American forces at Belleau Wood and Chateau-Thierry. In a lovely corner of the park were the graves of twelve American soldiers who had died of their wounds at the hospital. Their families were far away across the ocean, but these dead were not forgotten. Led by the Mayor of Luzancy, the villagers for miles around, men, women, children and many old people who remembered 1870, marched in procession to the park and laid their flowers reverently on the graves of these Americans.

The preparations for military work at the Luzancy Hospital were easily adapted to civilian relief after the armistice. Dr. M. Louise Hurrell of Rochester, N. Y., succeeded Dr. Hunt as director. Under the French Service de Santé, our hospital was connected with the "Hôpital Mixte No. 2" at Coulommiers, which meant special privileges in securing surgical dressings, gasoline, fuel and other hospital necessities.

With the return of the refugees, our work increased enormously. People flocking into the devastated regions, eager to rebuild their homes, were living under conditions conducive to disease. Within a few weeks our circuit had expanded to the limit of our motor capacity, and in order to cover a larger field other centers with doctor, nurse, chauffeuse and ambulance, were established. The living quarters of our personnel in some of these places were far from luxurious. Barracks, ruined houses with paper windows and shelled roofs, were furnished with cots and packing-box dressers, and, strange as it may seem, these habitations immediately developed an American atmosphere. Where a Kansas woman keeps house, there is Kansas, and this holds for every state in the Union.

Medical relief was most needed in the districts where the devastation was greatest. The best available buildings for our centers were sometimes in the ruins of churches, cellars or houses with part of the roof gone the way of most things in the devastated regions. When a room could be found with a stove in working order and fuel great was the rejoicing, for there was warmth. This is a wonderful word to those suffering from cold. It ranks with food to the hungry, and relief to those in pain.

Warmth in the winter feels like home to an American accustomed to warm houses, warm cars, and warm baths, and cold feels like France, Serbia and Russia. There are Americans who served in different warring countries who have decided to have their bodies cremated because they never want to be cold again, not even after they die.

The dental service of the American Women's Hospitals will be a joy forever in France---at least as long as our fillings last. The fair fame of American dentists in European capitols antedated the World War by several decades. The rich and powerful had employed American dentists for years, and the doings of the rich and powerful are emulated, if possible, by the poor. Doctors, midwives and undertakers were recognized necessities, but dentists were luxuries, and American dentists could be afforded by the opulent only. These favored beings kept bodyservants of all kinds--- maids, valets, frisseurs, masseurs---but the last word, the ultimate expression of physical and cosmetic conservation, was the employment of an American dentist.

The American Women's Hospital No. 1 had three dentists on the staff, Dr. Kate A. Doherty, Dr. Edna Ward, and Dr. DeLan Kinney of New York City. Dr. Doherty began work at Neufmoutiers, and served overtime from the beginning until the end of her stay in France. Most of her work was with children and young men. From Neufmoutiers, she was sent to Boullay-Thierry and thence to Viels Maisons, where she worked for the French soldiers. Meanwhile, Dr. Ward and Dr. Kinney were engaged at Luzancy. They were all too popular for their own good. When the day's work was done there was always somebody begging for attention, which was never refused.

The gratuitous service of American women dentists was a war privilege of real value. A woman dentist had never been seen in that section of France. They were rare creatures, far more interesting than men dentists, their work was just as good, and they seemed to have a conscience regarding people's teeth. They did not extract them without considering the ultimate consequences to the victims. They treated the teeth of soldiers and refugees just as though they were their own teeth, and thereby hangs a feeling of gratitude, which will recur to the beneficiaries whenever they need a dentist, as the years go by.

The American Women's Hospital No. 2 was established at La Ferté-Milon in the arrondissement of Chateau-Thierry, Department of the Aisne, under Dr. Ethel V. Fraser of Denver, Colorado. This small hospital had a big motor dispensary route. With the help of one nurse, an ambulance and chauffeuse, Dr. Fraser cared for the sick in forty-eight villages, taking medical cases to her own hospital and sending the surgical cases to Luzancy for operation. Here is a characteristic message: "Tell Dr. Fairbanks that I have a grand Pandora Box for her, with appendices, gall bladders, hernias, tumors and a million, more or less, tonsils and adenoids needing operations in my villages."

Dr. Charlotte Fairbanks of St. Johnsbury, Vermont, was our chief surgeon and in a larger sense, the entire district, surgically considered, was one grand Pandora Box for her. She was operating from morning until night on all kinds of chronic surgical cases, which had accumulated during the four years when it was impossible for a poor civilian to have the care of a surgeon in that part of France. The grand Pandora Box contained 852 surgical cases, and the low death rate was due partly to the skill of the operator and partly to the devotion and efficiency of her assistant physicians and nurses.

At Luzancy, Dr. Fairbanks was the wonder of the world. The villagers had inherited a feeling of a personal relationship with whomsoever occupied their Château, and after the manner of relations, they loved, hated, or tolerated the occupants. Such persons had always been subject to criticism, favorable or unfavorable, and the record of our chief surgeon was a record to boast about. They could not have been more proud of a native daughter if her ancestry had antedated the advent of Attila the Hun in that territory.

Luzancy was situated on the border of the bad lands. The destruction of house and home had not been so great as it had been in the Aisne and elsewhere. Therefore, it was easier for the returning residents of Luzancy to pick up the thread of community life, where it had been so suddenly broken four years before, than it was for those who belonged farther north. As the French Army demobilized, large numbers of men returned to their homes and villages. Among these were several physicians, who formerly practiced in this district. They were beginning anew with scant equipment, and it was important for them to build into the returning life of the community. Week after week, as conditions improved, the necessity for our work in that section decreased, but from the districts where the destruction had been greater, and the return to normal correspondingly retarded, we were receiving urgent requests to establish hospitals and dispensary centers.

The American Committee for Devastated France, with which we had worked in cordial cooperation from the beginning, was engaged in reconstruction work in the Department of the Aisne, and we had undertaken the medical end of this service. From Neufmoutiers we had moved to Luzancy, where the need for our work had been more urgent the year before, and in answer to this call from the Aisne in February, 1919, preparations were made for the removal of Hospital No. 1 to Blérancourt.

It was not so easy to get away from Luzancy, and in order to settle the matter definitely an official announcement was issued to the effect that no patients would be received after the end of March. A special "Thanksgiving Day" to be observed in honor of the American Women's Hospitals was appointed, and at the request of the mayor a report of our work, giving the names of American personnel, was prepared for the town records. Early in March the following invitation was received by every member of our staff, from the mayor of Luzancy:

In the name of the people of these communes which you have attended with so much benefit and kindness, and in the name of the Municipal Council at Luzancy, I ask you to meet at two o'clock precisely, Sunday, March 30th, to be present at a meeting of our Municipal Council, at which a testimony will be made for you, showing our gratitude and sincere thankfulness.

There are great days in the lives of all human beings and communities. People who have never been dazzled by the bright lights of big cities, and little towns off the line of travel have thrilling experiences---the more thrilling, perhaps, because of an unjaded capacity for pleasurable thrills. March 30, 1919, was a great day for the members of the staff of Hospital No. 1, and the friends and patients they had known so intimately during a period of tribulation. The meeting was attended by the deputy of the Department, the prefet, consul general, the mayors of villages and representatives of adjacent communes where we had worked, and practically the entire population within walking distance. The town hall was not big enough for the demonstration, so the court of the hospital and one big ward were requisitioned.

The mayors of cities, great and small, have a lot of speeches to make, and many of them say the wrong things, but the mayor of Luzancy had established a reputation with our unit for saying the right thing. He usually said, "yes." His parting speech was longer and somewhat more flattering:

Our gratitude and our expression of admiration come quite alike to all [he remarked in closing], to Dr. Hurrell, who has charge of the hospital; to the other doctors, who have given their services with so much grace; to the surgeon, Dr. Fairbanks, who has worked with a sureness of hand extraordinary; to the gestionaire, Mrs. Emilie Lehman, who has carried a burden almost insurmountable; to the nurses, who have devoted themselves to the population, and to the chauffeuses, whose robustness surpasses the imagination.

Citizenship in the town of Luzancy was officially conferred upon the entire staff of the American Women's Hospital No. 1 and upon Miss Anne Morgan and Mrs. A. M. Dike of the American Committee for Devastated France.

As we walked out of the town hall there were cameras and moving-picture machines, much hampered by the weather, trying to get our photographs [wrote one of the participants]. This seemed strange. We looked and felt just the same as we did when we walked into the town hall, but a ceremony had been performed which increased our news value. We had been officially adopted by a French municipality. We had two home towns, one in the United States and one in France.

As citizens of Luzancy we were greeted with great joy. We were congratulated and kissed, like brides, and for lack of flowers sprigs of evergreen, far more enduring, were thrust upon us by our French townsmen. All the officials participating in the ceremonies returned with us to the château, and there, in the big ward which had been prepared for the reception, spread out before our astonished eyes, were the gifts of the people of Luzancy. It seemed almost as though we had married that town, and these were the wedding presents. Of course we were thrilled, but from the standpoint of municipal relations we had a bigamous feeling.

The sous prefet, M. Duburcq, gave an eloquent address, after which the deputy, M. Lugel, announced that he had received the following telegram from the Secrétaire d'État du Service de Santé:

The eighteen decorations, Médailles de la Reconnaissance Française, requested by M. Chalamon, Mayor of Luzancy, for the American ladies have been accorded.

This news was received with enthusiastic acclamation by the entire assembly. M. Lugel tendered his congratulations to the unit in French, which Dr. Hurrell acknowledged in English; the school children sang the Marseillaise, and the American Women's Hospital No. 1 had taken official leave of Luzancy, although it was several weeks before all of our equipment had been transferred to Blérancourt.

Chapter III

We Move to Blérancourt---Work with the Committee for Devastated France---The "Robustness" of our Chauffeuses---
A Sky Pilot's Glove!---Cooperation with College Relief Units---La Résidence Sociale

THE move to Blérancourt was an aggravating job. The French government had barracks to give away, and some of these barracks were given to the American Committee for Devastated France for the use of the American Women's Hospitals. These buildings were to be delivered, erected, and ready for occupation by the first of April---an inauspicious day. Our large hospital equipment was moved from Luzancy during the month of April, and the period of waiting began.

The American Committee had an enormous reconstruction program in the Cantons of Soissons, Coucy-le-Chateau and Vic-sur-Aisne, and we were to carry the medical relief in this connection. A great many people were sick and in need of hospital care. Infectious diseases of children were prevalent, and an epidemic of scarlet fever had spread through the district. Under these circumstances, it was impossible to wait for barracks. Fortunately, one building had been erected. With this for a center and an operating room, the rest of the hospital was installed in army tents and the work started.

The usual accumulation of surgical cases was waiting for Dr. Fairbanks, and she operated day after day from dawn until dark. With the help of German prisoners, the second barracks was soon finished. This was used for scarlet fever cases. It is amazing how well we are able to get along without the conveniences of modern life when we have to. In almost no time our little hospital of fifty beds was running at full capacity, in spite of difficulties, which included carrying water from the village fountain.

Within a few months the barracks compound was completed, and a very good hospital it made. Carrying water both ways for weeks emphasized the importance of plumbing, and we installed a good water and drainage system at considerable cost, which was far less than it was worth.

Great credit is due to the six chauffeuses of Hospital No. 1 whose "robustness," according to the written statement of the mayor of Luzancy, surpassed the imagination. As a matter of fact, they were lithe, strong, and withal, fair to look upon. The appearance of our chauffeuses was a valuable asset for the reason that men are men the world around, and all the gasoline in France was controlled by poor, easy man. Surely it was wise to have chauffeuses who found favor in his eyes. Doctors and nurses might be ever so skillful and devoted, but in a country without transportation our capacity for service depended largely upon cars, ambulances, drivers, and a supply of gasoline.

The chauffeuses were the youngest group in the unit, and manifestly ladies of the new school. They were not sitting in balconies, gazing at the sympathetic stars and longing for the hero to return. No, indeed, they were following him in a motor car. Bright-eyed, red-checked and beautiful, albeit a bit ruffled and mud-bedaubed, one of these ladies emerged from under her car, but not from under the eye of her chief; on a memorable occasion. Why did she emerge? Her work was not finished. Lying on her back in the mud under the car, looking for "trouble," she spied it in the sky, and out she came just in time to catch a glove that fell from a passing plane. A sky pilot's glove! Poor Romeo and Juliet! They lived too soon. Supplied with motor cars and airplanes, their immortal story might have taken a less tragic turn.

Our hospital at Blérancourt was full at the time of the accidental explosion of munitions at St. Aubin. Naturally the people in the district thought the Germans were coming again, and without waiting for official notification started toward the south. This territory had been evacuated twice during the war, and those who had lingered before were the first to start on this occasion when the big shells began to explode. Disregarding the assurance that the uproar was due to accidental explosions, the sick jumped from their beds, several collapsing, while others ran about looking for their clothes, to the confusion of the entire compound. Children were crying for their parents, mothers were wildly seeking their children, old folks were running about helplessly, and one poor grandmother, carried in a chair, was left on our doorstep. Fortunately we had plenty of food, and our guests were used to sleeping wherever night overtook them, but nobody slept that night. Hour after hour the explosions continued, and after the evacuees stopped worrying about themselves they commenced worrying about the precious rabbits, chickens and geese, with which their little farms had recently been restocked by the American Committee.

The association of the American Women's Hospitals with different college relief units was highly satisfactory. This plan saved expense and facilitated work in the field. Dr. Louise Tayler-Jones of Washington negotiated an affiliation between the American Women's Hospitals and the Wellesley College Relief Unit, and both she and Dr. Mary W. Marvell of Fall River, Massachusetts, wore our uniforms and cooperated with our workers. We were always ready and anxious to receive patients from any of the college groups. The following paragraph is taken from a letter written by Dr. Anna M. Gove, who was serving with the Smith College Relief Unit at Grécourt, Somme:


It seems like taking an unfair advantage to arrive almost unheralded with six children for your surgical department, but your staff made me realize that the A. W. H. is here for service, and my pride in its spirit of gracious giving does away with any misgivings I may have had in regard to our little patients.

The medical work in the Blérancourt district was conducted by our organization until the spring of 1920. The central hospital was always full, but the outlying work gradually decreased with the resumption of community life and the return of local physicians. During the summer and autumn of 1919, Dr. Hurrell and twenty-two of her associates in service returned to the United States. Dr. Hazel D. Bonness succeeded Dr. Hurrell as directress, with a staff of five Americans and a corps of French assistants.

For almost two years the American Committee for Devastated France and the American Women's Hospitals worked together in the field, and the closing chapter of this story of cooperative service is touched upon in the following letter received from Miss Anne Morgan of the American Committee:

In conference with the mayor of Blérancourt just before leaving France, he asked me to convey to you the profound gratitude of himself and of the Municipal Council for the aid and assistance given to the inhabitants of that region during the very trying period after the return of the people to that destroyed area.

If agreeable to you and your Board, they would like to place a memorial tablet to the American Women's Hospitals in the town hall, which may possibly be reconstructed within the next year The town hall has not been entirely destroyed, and still retains a vestige of its former beauty. The facade is extremely interesting and the Building Cooperative Society, of which the mayor is chairman, has decided to reconstruct it as it was before the war. There could be no better site in Blérancourt for the proposed memorial tablet.

Surely no two organizations ever worked for a given time, and came out of the period with such definite respect and admiration for each other as ours.

The sentiments expressed by Miss Morgan were shared by every member of our Executive Board and our personnel in the field. On withdrawing from the Aisne in the spring of 1920, we left a fully equipped hospital, which was afterward conducted with a French staff by the American Committee for Devastated France.

While we were conducting a hospital service in the devastated region, we were also participating in medical relief measures in other parts of France. In the old city of Blois, whose castles still echo the family quarrels of kings, their irregular love affairs and royal murders, we entered into a tripartite agreement for the development of a hospital center with separate buildings for the care of tubercular, maternity, and children's cases. The original plans, which were arranged by Dr. Bertha Stewart Dyment of Eugene, Oregon, were abandoned on account of the withdrawal of one of the parties to this pact, but our part of the plan, in a modified form, was carried out after the war.

From the standpoint of permanent value, our most important service in France was in connection with the Résidence Sociale at Levallois-Perret, a factory town on the outskirts of Paris. This place is a beehive of industry. The inhabitants do more than their share of the world's work. Kings and Emperors living above the law have never castled in Levallois, but no stronghold, when knighthood was in flower, was ever more important to a nation than this town was to France during the war. The factories for the manufacture of perfumes and plowshares were turned into munition mills overnight, and in the first Battle of the Marne the Paris taxicabs from the great garages at Levallois transported troops behind the lines, to the confusion of the enemy.

My work with the American Red Cross in 1917 took me to different hospitals, crèches, and homes for the unfortunate. For several months I lived at the Résidence Sociale, Levallois-Perret. Gradually I came to realize that the group of Frenchwomen conducting that place were possessed of a corporate soul devoted to the service in which they were engaged, and this was the reason they accomplished so much with the small means available at the little house on Rue Antonin-Raynaud, where every inch of space did double duty.

Fate had foreseen the trials of Mlle. Marie Jeanne Bassot, the devoted leader of this dauntless band. Perhaps she was included in the promise: "To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden manna." Ten years of struggle had given them strength to work effectively during the war. They were not wasting time in useless motion. Their methods attracted attention and support. Help came from across the ocean. The American Red Cross and other organizations contributed to this center. The Frenchwomen who administered funds had a genius for keeping every franc circulating rapidly within the orbit of their own activities.

Dr. Caroline Purnell, Commissioner of the American Women's Hospitals, visited the Résidence Sociale in 1918, and recommended that we contribute to the development of the medical end of this health and social center. Time has more than justified her judgment.

Dr. Charlotte Fairbanks in the Children's War, Luzancy Hospital

Helen Doublas of Atlanta, Ga., and Florence Eadie, two of the "chauffeuses whose robustness surpasses the imagination.

During the fifteen years that the Résidence Sociale was conducted in cramped quarters, the workers occasionally peeped over the back fence into the spacious grounds their landlord, all unknowingly, was preparing for them. He had selected this double block of property in his youth, at least fifty years before, and had built and planted for the generations. With loving forethought he tended the trees in his private park, and when their spreading branches shaded the marble figures of music, poetry, literature and art embellishing the cornice of the house in which his fondest fancies were embodied, he slowly climbed the winding stairs from the fourth story to the cupola and looked with pride over the beautiful home he had built for his children and his children's children.

Mlle. Marie-Jeanne Bassot (inset), head of the Résidence Sociale, Levallois-Perret, France. French factory girls dancing at a fête in honor of the American Women's Hospitals.

Meanwhile, the factories rose on every hand, but the walls of his park and his soul were high, and he did not notice the change. Some of his children died; the war came, and his last grandson was killed. Gradually the life of the old man ebbed away. His estate descended to distant relatives and the lovely place was bought for a song by friends of the Résidence Sociale. With the help of the National American Woman's Suffrage Association we provided buildings for health work and headquarters for the Visiting Nurses of France at this important center.

At the official dedication of these buildings, Dr. Angenette Parry represented the American Women's Hospitals; Dr. Louis Guinon, a distinguished French specialist, the medical staff, and Mlle. Marie Jeanne Bassot the Résidence Sociale. Count de Piessac spoke for the French government as follows:


I am here to represent M. Brisac, head of the National Office of Social Hygiene; M. Durafour, Minister of Labour and of Health, who, like his predecessor, M. Justin Godard, takes the keenest interest in the Résidence Sociale. Finally I have the great honor to represent the Minister for Foreign Affairs, and the President of the Cabinet, who desire me to offer in their name a welcome to Dr. Parry, the delegate of the American Women's Hospitals.

The Foreign Office and the War Office recognize the magnificent work that the American Women's Hospitals did for France during the war and which has been continued up to the present time.

As an expression of appreciation of the work done by the American Women's Hospitals in France, the members of our Executive Board were decorated on this occasion. "The medal of the 'Reconnaissance Française' tells clearly what feelings have guided us in awarding it to you," said the French representative. "It is the gratitude of the government of the French Republic, the gratitude of the whole of France which I ask you to accept."

Chapter Four
Table of Contents