New-York tribune., 1918-01-13
N THE open courtyard of French

~ ne open courtyard OF n FrencF
hospital group of brilliantly
uniformed French officers assem-
bles quickly and silently. They speak
almost in whispers, for the gray walls
are n sanctuary; they have echoed for
three years to the cries of delirious
wounded, the muttering of fervent
prayers, or malcdictions, in every
tongue, from the harsh gutturals of
the Colonials to the stifed means Of
Tommy Atkins and Jean Marie Poilu.
The gathering officers are met by
white coated hospital officials, who
emerge from the gray walls with that
studied air of quiet to which their torn
nerves are schoOled.
There is animated, but subdued, con-
versat;on among the uniformed ones,
the agitated waving Of a document by
the militaire and the dispatching of
messenger, who disappears in the
echoing walls.
Presently appears girl, in the
straight, white uniform which has the
face is shadowed a little with fatigue,
but it is not that of war-worn at
tendant upon suffering. 1t is alight
with a rich, dark beauty, deepened by
womanly sympathy and experience
The men who await her are silent,
that tribute which men pay only to
this double beauty of face and charac-
ter. The white coated officials who
comprise the hospital staff look upon
her with new eyes and a profound
pride.
She Has Done
Noble Work
There is little enlightening talk,
which causes the girl to color slightly
with amazement and advance with
bowed head to receive upon the
starched breast of her uniform the
cross which forever entities her to
wear the proud tricolor of France
The document is read aloud, in the
name Of the President of the Repub-
lie:
"-she has done noble work, and
her name shall be honored for all time
and her life shed lustre upon the
honor of her family
A subdued cheer hearty but careful
echoes in the courtyard, sustained by
a hoarse, throaty second from win.
dow where convalescent or two look
down upon the simple scene below
The head surgeon bends to kiss hel
upon either cheek.
"Voila, petite." he says gently, "Rur
back to your noble life!"
For moment she hesitates as though
TO speak, then turns, picture of pride
confusion and rare beauty. and dsap-
pears into the gray building. The
officers are left to exchange courtesies
and words of praise of this heroisnl
which France has honored.
But this heroine is not French. She
is Miss Edith Griffin, OF New York
whose meter was not nursing whose
training had qualified her rather for
the literary and social careers which
she abandoned with the first European
kostilities. With no previous profes-
sional training, Miss Griffin entered
Mrs. ". K. Vanderbilt's American Am.
bulancc work among the French
wounded, and rapidly acquired the skill
which together with her patience ant
self-sacrifice have placed her in the
fore rank of the wars heroines.
Through subsequent severe nervous
breakdown Miss Griffin insisted upor
maintaining tubercular ward of owe,
g hundred patients. Here, upon a small
oil stove, she prepared daily the nun
. dred-odd Especial diets" allotted he
patients and kept grip upon her shat
tered nerves which were worn to tn,
breaking point by the horrible scene
which constitute the vie ordinaire O
: any French hospital to-day.
Boche Ears in