F.q. Ward,
West Section,
Middlesex War Hospital.
Napsbury, near St. Albana.

Dear Lulu

I wonder whether I shall be many more weeks before I get any word from you? This long, long silence seems almost worse than when I came to France. I can imagine your trying to get letters to me, and I am trying to reach them! What a picture! I wonder whether the gods are teasing us!

Well, I am getting along very well and my wounds are healing nicely. The people seem more helpful here and think in a few more months I may be fit for the field; so I may be able to go to France again. But I dont know anything about it.

The hospital where I am is a splendid place. The ward where I am has a great high ceiling, with many large windows, tasteful pictures, plants & flowers. The floor is laid with linoleum polished every morning. Everything is spotlessly clean, the beds having each a white spread. Strictest attention is paid to cleanliness of the patients too. At first it was dreadfully hard getting used to being waited on lying helplessly in bed. You see I have never spent a whole day in bed, never having been sick. When a 'woman' began to wash my face I felt like a fool; but when they bathed me in bed! - well I longed to run away & hide myself for ever. You see I am not sick; I am healthy and with an excellent appetite. But I must drop the curtain again on my experiences here, or you will think I am writing more intimately than I should.

This hospital is different to the one at Wimereux. There it was more a clearance hospital. Men were brought straight from the dressing stations, often with clothes soaked with mud and all torn & bloody from the field - as I did myself. After examination those unfit to travel were kept and X rayed and operated on the same day - as I again; the rest were shipped to England. The result was that there was a constant change, and most ghastly cases were always present. "Dressing time" was often a thing to be forgotten. There too all were "sisters", i.e., graduate nurses. The ordinary routine work was done by a large number of men "orderlies". Here however everything is different. Here a patient comes and stays until he has no further need of medical attendance, & then is sent to a convalescent home. The result is that nearly half of the beds are empty in the daytime, the patients being in the fine grounds outside, sunning themselves, or sitting around in the passages. Those in bed are generally well advanced toward recovery.

Another difference is perhaps accidental, but you may be interested just the same. The Anglo-American was supported by a private patron, Lady Hadfield and Anglicised American lady who took a keen interest in her hospital, & really 'managed' it. Of course it was under military orders and authority, but somehow that objectionable feeling of being under 'military discipline' was entirely absent. Another difference was more subtle. It was very 'aristocratic'. Some of the sisters moved in the best social circles in social life in England, & had trained & given themselves to 'serving Tommy'. Lady Hadfield was just fine spending quite a bit of time with me in conversation. Another was a Mrs Cunard, of the Steamship line. The 'atmosphere' was thus, in spite of the horrors, very refined, and any new discovery was bought without regard to expense. The matron was the best of all, managing beautifully with delicacy and refinement the whole thing. She had toured Canada in the company of the Duke and Duchess of Connaught when they went right through Canada in July of 1914 I think it was. I owe very much to her kindness.

Here in the comparative peace and quietness you have a chance of seeing a great difference. There is kindness, but it is 'military', with degrees of rank between the nurses. You feel that you are once more a private & must obey orders. The nurses are very nice but without much of the refinement at Wimereux; they are fond of 'larks' with Tommy - if the ruling sisters are not around. I think you would enjoy ten minutes talk with the matron of Wimereux more than a week with the grim, high, ladies who rule here, though you might enjoy some of the 'larks' just as much as I do myself. Both have this in common, that they are very, very English.

But I must stop. The flowers are some wild flowers growing wild at Wimereux & brought to the hospital.

I want to come back to Digby for convalescence. I want to listen to some music. Couldn't you play for me now, Lulu, something from the great composers? I have lost all my kit, but I have saved those photos for I carried them in my pocket-book. Tell Jessie that one soldier has never smoked yet - I dont know how many thousands will say the same. The gramophone is just playing

'Night comes along for you, dearie,
I'll spread out my white wings,
And sail home to thee.'

Well, goodnight now,

Yours affectionately, Tom