But when
I was at the front the Belgian Army of fifty thousand trained soldiers
and two hundred thousand recruits was dependent on springs oozing from
fields that were vast graveyards; on sluggish canals in which lay the
bodies of men and horses; and on a few tank wagons that carried fresh
water daily to the front.
A quarter of a million dollars would be needed to install a water
supply for the Belgian Army and for the civilians--residents and
refugees--gathered behind the lines. To ask the American people to
shoulder this additional burden is out of the question. But perhaps,
somewhere among the people who will read this, there is one
great-hearted and wealthy American who would sleep better of nights
for having lifted to the lips of a wounded soldier the cup of pure
water that he craves; for having furnished to ten thousand wounds a
sterile and soothing wet compress.
Dunkirk was full of hospitals when I was there. Probably the
subsequent shelling of the town destroyed some of them. I do not know.
A letter from Calais, dated May 21st, 1915, says:
"I went through Dunkirk again. Last time I was there it was a
flourishing and busy market day. This time the only two living souls I
saw were the soldiers who let us in at one gate and out at the other.
In the interval, as you know, the town had been shelled by
fifteen-inch guns from a distance of twenty-three miles.
Pages:
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388