Food came from all quarters – trout from the river, truffles from the woods and venison sometimes

Madeline Bromley-Martin accepted a bevy of wellconnected probationers (unqualified nurses), like Miss Prideaux Brune, the Hon Gertrude Forbes-Sempill, Lady Elizabeth Keppel, Lady Lillian Robertson and the Hon Dorothy Emmott.

In an environment dominated by women, the orderlies were invaluable for heavy lifting, stretcherbearing and driving vehicles. John might have found work hard at the hospital, as he was unused to manual labour or assuming a subordinate role.

After a life of leisure with a full complement of staff to wait on him, he now had to lift patients, wash floors, mend broken furniture and take orders.

Initially he fetched the wounded, as at home he was used to driving vehicles along winding, country roads.

The hospital had two ambulances and eventually five, driven by orderlies who doubled as stretcherbearers. They collected the wounded at Latrecy station seven kilometres from the chateau.

Setting off by rail early in the morning from Clermont, the injured soldiers travelled in closed carriages with no windows, just slits. Each truck contained four iron frames that held three stretchers, one over the other. Great pain When the train reached its destination, helpers dragged the frame into the middle of the carriage, the vibration causing great pain to the occupant.

“The men were very done up and exhausted after their long train and motor journey, especially as our roads were very rough and stony,” wrote a hospital orderly on reaching the chateau with the wounded.

John describes “a take-in night” in an article written in 1916 for The Cornhill Magazine: “A little crowd of French peasants at a wayside station some 40 miles behind the fighting line is awaiting the arrival of the nightly train de santé with offerings of soup, wine, coffee and fruit for the wounded.

“The great engine headlight draws slowly nearer and the heavy train clinks and bumps to a standstill with its load of four or five hundred wounded. It is a ‘take-in night’ at the Hospital of Arc-en-Barrois, not far from Verdun.”

My grandfather describes graphically how “the Englishmen in khaki” (orderlies like himself) find the severely wounded: “The glistening eyes tell of fever: almost all are so

Donations

It’s unsurprising that John wrote of the hospital at Arc in such terms. He was putting a positive spin on their activities. The situation was critical; France and the Allies were in crisis. He wrote to gain publicity (and money), as the hospital relied on donations to continue.

The truth revealed much in-fighting and battles of egos. Wilfrid de Glehn, a charismatic figure, was often at loggerheads with the strong-minded Madeline Bromley-Martin. John was caught between the two factions and because of his deafness, de Glehn often manipulated him into signing papers that their director would never have sanctioned.

Other reports showed more struggles; Eva Smith, a nurse who joined the staff when the hospital opened, indicates that it was hard for diverse personalities to work together. John Masefield took a swipe at the probationers too, whom he regarded as overprivileged dilettantes.

My grandfather returned to Largie in July 1915 but received letters from patients asking him to return. Leaving his family (Daisy was in the early stages of pregnancy), he returned to Arc-en-Barrois five months later. Life at the hospital was even more hectic than before.

A stream of seriously wounded French soldiers swept into the wards. This time John had responsibility over Wilfrid de Glehn, a decision that caused bad feeling.

Madeline Bromley-Martin liked to surround herself with men and women from her own social background and wished to use John as a bulwark against de Glehn, whose socialist, agnostic leanings made her uneasy.

Although excellent at organisation and marshalling staff, Miss Bromley-Martin was no book-keeper. She got in a muddle with her bills as she wrote most of her accounts on scraps of paper.

Rob Martin-Holland, her brother-in-law and John’s Eton contemporary, coerced her to put her affairs in order. From London, where he was a banker at Martin’s in Lombard Street, Rob played a vital role in the hospital’s organisation. He and Nell, with other volunteers like Daisy, helped raise funds and interview staff for the hospital.

John was the obvious candidate to straighten out the hospital’s book-keeping. Not only was he a stalwart with none of de Glehn’s caprice, he was better suited to this job than working as a medical orderly because his deafness stood in the way of satisfactory social interaction. Now his disability would no longer be an embarrassment to him.

Subscriptions

Most funds came from 800 private subscriptions. At the beginning, Susan Bromley-Martin managed these, while Rob Martin-Holland oversaw the finances. To cover all expenses the hospital needed £400 a month and this was achieved if 100 individuals or organisations pledged £4.00.

Much of the money came from English donors but the town of Wilmington in America donated an X-ray machine and a dental ambulance. One American family supported a ward of 10 beds while countries as various as Norway, Ireland, the Portuguese British and the USA maintained more than 30.

Hospital staff frequently wrote appeal letters and newspaper articles, like Laurence Binyon’s An English Hospital for French Soldiers, in which he quotes the enthusiasm of a patient, “I shall tell the people that the English are ‘les braves gens’ and that country is my second home.” (More tomorrow.) © 2017 Mary C Gladstone, all rights reserved, courtesy of the author and Firefallmedia; available in hardcover and paperback online and from all booksellers.

By Mary Gladstone