CHAPTER VII
The Days Before the Great Day
SO the first summer with the American Expeditionary force in France passed swiftly on.
For long hours during the day, and sometimes into the night, the American soldiers were occupied in learning their final lessons in the great war game which had been fought out in Europe for the past three years.
Never did men work with greater energy or enthusiasm, or with more impatience, knowing how greatly the Allies needed their aid and longing to meet the test. The work was grilling and the strain of waiting severest of all. Yet the greater number of the American boys met the situation gallantly. Already the first divisions, who had arrived in the early part of the summer in France, had broken all previous records in military training.
It remains an historical fact that civilization has always moved westward to test democracy, until the United States remained the last county in which the right of human beings to govern themselves could be proved, since there were no countries farther west. Moreover, it appeared again as if in the great war that the United States had come to be the last stronghold. For Europe alone had not been equal to the fight against autocracy. Unless the United States could turn the balance in favor of the Entente Allies, the cause of democracy might be set back many hundreds of years.
This idea was in the mind of almost every American soldier in France, although perhaps not expressed in these words. Yet each man and boy understood that the United States not only expected him to do his duty in the war, but to fulfil his own and his country’s ideal.
Yet naturally the life in the American camp in France was by no means all plain sailing. Besides the obstacles one might have reasonably expected, there was one thought which haunted the men and officers alike.
Could it be possible that here in their midst and in spite of every effort there might yet be a traitor?
In all the past we know there has been nothing of the same kind to equal the German spy system. It would seem that after three years of war, after the eternal vigilance of the nations, the last Teuton spy would have been unearthed. Yet they have reminded one of the ancient story of the giant who whenever he was thrown to earth, rose up again the stronger.
Nevertheless, here in the American camp in France a spy could not well be imagined. There were only the soldiers, the French people devoted to their interests, the Red Cross nurses at their hospital. Now and then an occasional outsider came on some business connected with the army and went away again, but always his business and his history were well known.
However, there was always the chance. The enemy would like to hear how many American soldiers had arrived at the permanent camp, how many more were to come later and at what moment they would enter the great drive with their Allies. It was true that both the French and British plans were being constantly transmitted to Germany before they could be carried out.
Therefore the American soldiers were watchful, sometimes almost suspicious, of one another.
But, beside this serious side of American camp life in France, there was also a cheerful side.
The American soldiers were living among the race of people nearest akin in nature to them. For no amount of adversity can make the French or the Americans anything but valiant and pleasure loving.
Besides their work the American soldiers in France wished also to be amused. If the entertainment of the soldiers in the camps all over the United States was important, this was equally true in France.
Therefore it chanced that the American Red Cross girls, who were stationed at the hospital nearest their own men, were called upon among their first duties to help with other things than nursing.
Of course, if there had been many soldiers ill this would have been impossible. But during the early weeks after the arrival of the American Regulars, there were but few patients in Madame Castaigne’s splendidly equipped hospital.
So the nurses were, of course, glad to do whatever was useful. But rather to her old friends’ surprise, Barbara Thornton seemed to develop such an intense interest in the amusement of the soldiers that it was difficult to know whether she was making the effort more to entertain herself than them.
However, no one at the present time really understood Barbara Thornton’s character. Marriage had changed her as it does most people. And it was not until a number of things had taken place that Barbara began even faintly to understand herself.
Upon her arrival at the hospital, instead of continuing her former intimacy with Eugenia, with Mildred and with Nona, the other three of the four original Red Cross girls, Barbara developed an unexpected intimacy with Mollie Drew and with Agatha Burton. Yet one could hardly say, truthfully, that Mollie and Barbara were intimate with Agatha. If one watched closely enough it was merely that they appeared to find her useful to them. Neither girl would have agreed to this. However, they had not at first liked her, and something in her quiet, unobtrusive personality must have had its influence.
In spite of the fact that Eugenia, Mildred and Nona were all aware of Barbara’s attitude, at the beginning they did not discuss the matter.
Eugenia, who would have been apt to influence the younger girl, had she spoken to her, was only vaguely conscious of what was taking place. For naturally, Eugenia was absorbed in her duties as the superintendent of the new American hospital and wished to be absorbed in them until she had neither time nor strength for anything else. For if Eugenia were intensely occupied she was not so apt to be haunted by the thought of the possible fate of her husband. What could have become of him? There were many times when Eugenia believed that if she could only hear he were dead, she would be satisfied, even comparatively happy. There were so many other women learning to bear this burden. But the uncertainty was torture.
Nevertheless, Eugenia would not betray herself by revealing her unhappiness, believing that one of the first duties of war nursing is to put one’s personal sorrows out of one’s mind. Yet now and then a letter arriving from a friend, or from some person in authority who was endeavoring to discover what fate had befallen Captain Castaigne, Eugenia would sometimes be led to hope and then, at other times, to feel an even deeper despair.
So it was small wonder that, so long as Barbara and the other nurses did whatever was needed of them in the hospital and kept well, Eugenia was glad to know they were being helpful and also entertaining the soldiers until the time of their greater service. Certainly she would never have dreamed of feeling concerned over what any one of the original Red Cross girls might do. Eugenia believed she loved and understood them too completely.
There were other and different reasons why Mildred Thornton would not criticise her sister-in-law. In the first place, Mildred was reserved and not critical and was also occupied with her own experiences. Moreover, the very fact of being a sister-in-law made her too loyal both to Barbara and to Dick to think of resenting Barbara’s present behavior.
Therefore it was left to Nona Davis, as the only one of the four old friends to puzzle over and not altogether to approve of one of their original group. But this may have been partly due to the fact that Nona felt a little on the outside and was frequently lonely for Sonya during the first few weeks of this second coming to France to continue her Red Cross nursing.
Yet, whatever defense one might make, or whatever excuse be given, there was little doubt that Barbara was behaving strangely. Nor was it heir friendship with Mollie Drew nor with Agatha Burton which excited Nona’s unexpressed criticism. Nona herself had worked with Mollie and Agatha in Italy and had liked them fairly well. It was she who had introduced them to Barbara. But it looked at present as if Barbara Thornton were only using the friendship of the two comparatively unknown girls to further her own plans.
For, the slight acquaintance with young Lieutenant Hugh Kelley, which Barbara had started in idle fashion on board the train bringing them both through France, had apparently developed into a real interest. This was rather extraordinary in view of the fact that Barbara was married to Richard Thornton and was supposedly utterly devoted to him. Moreover, she had a baby and yet was behaving as if she were a girl again.
Sometimes Nona wondered if Barbara had ever explained to Lieutenant Kelley that she was Mrs. Thornton, not Miss Thornton. He had received this impression upon their first meeting and Barbara did appear so absurdly childish. However, it was just as well Nona had never felt at liberty to inquire, for as a matter of fact Barbara had deliberately continued the false impression, persuading Mollie and Agatha to assist her. At first the misunderstanding had struck her as amusing, later she had concluded that it would do no possible harm to go on with it, as a new friendship would keep her from being so lonely and unhappy over her separation from Dick.
As for Lieutenant Kelley, she really did not consider him, only she knew, of course, he was the type of man who always enjoyed a mild flirtation. And Mollie and Agatha made particularly agreeable friends at present, because they were comparative strangers and therefore would not criticise her, and also because they were interested in two of the American soldiers.
Mollie and Guy Ellis who had met in such an absurd fashion, had developed a surprising interest in each other for so short an acquaintance. But then these were war times and they were both in a foreign land.
It also turned out that Agatha Burton had a friend among the American soldiers encamped in the village close to Eugenia’s hospital. This may have influenced her coming abroad to nurse, since the friendship, Agatha declared, was an old one. The soldier, whose name was Charles Anderson, was not prepossessing in appearance. He was small and squarely built and had rather a sullen manner. But then Agatha was not the type of girl who would attract many people. She was too quiet and unobtrusive.
However, the three girls discovered another bond. The three young men in whom they were interested were musical.
If Lieutenant Kelley had to preserve discipline as an officer at other times, the three men could meet on a more common ground with their music. Then Mollie Drew had an attractive voice and a gift for singing old Irish ballads which the solders especially loved.
And in the long twilights of those first summer evenings in France, music played a more important part in some of the boys’ lives than they ever believed possible.
Barbara could not sing, was not musical in the least, but she did develop an unexpected executive ability, for it was she who arranged the weekly concerts at the little French Casino near the edge of the village.
She also made friends with Berthe Bonnèt, who had been studying at the Conservatoire in Paris before the beginning of the war. Now all of Madame Bonnèt’s, all of Berthe’s time and strength was given to the service of the American soldiers. If Berthe could do for them one thing more, she was happy while Bonnèt had become La Mère to half the American soldiers in her one-time quiet old French village.
Therefore Barbara found many reasons, whenever she was free from her hospital work, for spending many hours in Madame’s old garden.
If Nona thought of this as a convenient place for Barbara to see Lieutenant Kelley, who was quartered with Madame, she could not, of course, mention it. Moreover, Barbara seldom left the hospital unless either Agatha or Mollie were with her.
Moreover, Nona’s own spare time from her Red Cross nursing was being given to acting as interpreter. She had a small class of American and French soldiers whom she was teaching to understand each other and found the task extremely amusing.