Betty Rudd’s Journal Entries

 

June 19, 1917:

Dear Journal,

My name is Betty Rudd. I live in America. Today I decided to join the Red Cross, as a nurse and I think that this journal will be the perfect way to remember who I will encounter and what will happen daily in the hospitals.  I am becoming a nurse because my older brother died in the war and I knew if I were there I could have helped him and I don’t want other sister to go through the same thing. When my family found out last week, I decided that the only way to show my love for him is to play a part in the war. I went to the local hospital to sign up, as I grasped the pen to write the capital B of my name, my hand started to shake from my nervousness. I am scared; I don’t know what is going to happen to me when I go over to Europe. There are soldiers dying left and right on the front and I know they need me. I leave tomorrow for the front. I only signed up two days ago, this is why I know they need me. While I am there the more experienced nurses teach me how to wrap wounds and what work to do in the hospitals. I am glad that I am not married, don’t  have kids, and don’t have a stable job, because then it would be harder than it already is to leave my home behind. Although I am scared, I am ready for an adventure. I am going to do it for my brother. He is one of the many out there that I will be able to help. The next time that I will write in here I am going to be on the front helping the wounded and dying soldiers.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 22, 1917

Dear Journal,

Today was my first day on the front and it was extremely hectic. There were soldiers coming in left and right. The training is nothing like the really treating patients. Nothing can prepare you for all the things you have to treat and all the people you have to work with except experience. Some of their injuries on their head; others had wounds their legs, or their arms. I learned so many things, such as how to wrap a man’s leg so that it stops the bleeding until it gets amputated. The first time I had to work with a soldier I suddenly got sick to my stomach and threw up on the floor. I felt horrible, but a more experienced nurse is my supervisor said it happens to all of the people on their first day. Although she was kind, but she told me that wasn’t going to get me out of work. After the ordeal was over I got back to work and for the rest of the day I only focused on my work. The hardest thing to get used to is watching a man suffer at his deathbed. I have never seen a gown man cry before. The sounds of their cries broke my heart and it was very hard for me to deal with. I stood in the white, linoleum tiled, hall in awe of the screams that were coming out of the young soldier’s bloody mouth. The few minuets I stood there seemed to pass like hours. The only thing I could think of was to put cold water on the soldier’s face. I don’t really think it helps, because but it calms them down a little and they don’t think about their pain as much. At times I wonder what I got myself into, but when a solider thanks me or gives me a simple smile it makes me realize that I did the right thing.

June 23, 1917

Dear journal,

            Today I met a girl my age named Beth. She signed up for the Red Cross because she had no where else to go. Her father and brother died at war, and her mother was in their local market begging for food when a bomb was dropped on the market. The only place that she could go was the Red Cross. It really made me thankful that I came here because I wanted to, and not because I had to. She joined a week before I did, so although she knows more about this job than me she treats me like an equal. I look to her for help on things that I don’t know how to do and she explains them to me in a way that makes me feel like I always knew how to do it I just forgot, instead of making me feel stupid like some of the older nurses do. We asked the head nurses if it would be possible if we worked and roomed together. They said that would be fine if we worked together if, we got our work done. I am really excited that we work each other, I feel like I have known her for years even though I met her only a few days ago. She is the only person that I can tell my feelings to. I am pretty sure that she feels the same way. I hope that this friend ship will last a long time.

June 25, 1917

Dear journal,

                Today was one of my most tragic days while working in the hospital. I saw something that will stay with me for the rest of my life. I was ordered to go into section 3 curtain 6, and there was Paul. I went study with him for two years, and then he had to move to another state. I had forgotten about him. I opened the curtain, and before knowing that it was him, my heart dropped. It was the oddest thing. I had worked with hundreds of men before and this had never happened before. I walked over cautiously, and I saw his face covered with blood and dirt. I stopped. I took a step back and took a deep breath. I said to myself “I can do this.” I went over and got the bucket of water and a washcloth. I washed his forehead clear of trench mud and blood, then went in to a daze remembering what my life used to be like with him. He opened his eyes, and I don’t think that he remembered who I was. My heart crumbled into a million peaces as his absent eyes gazed into mine. I never thought I would see him again, especially like this.

July 17, 1917

Dear Journal,

            It has been a while since I have written, I have been really busy in the hospital, and I have been too tired at night to write. I got to go home for three days and see my family because my younger sister is not doing to well. She has Polio it is becoming worse. I mother asked me to come home for a few days to possibly say good bye. It was hard for me to go home, I felt like I did not belong in my own home. I had heard that this happens to the soldiers. I thought that I would be so happy to see my family and never want to leave but didn’t feel that way at all. As soon as I got there I already felt out of place. My siblings are so much older and they look so different, I feel like I missed out on so much. I miss Beth and the other nurses like I missed my family before. The only thing I feel comfortable about being home is eating better food. War has changed me so much I am not the young, spirited girl that my family remembers and loves. I almost feel like I have disappointed them by changing. I needed to go back to the Hospitals. They have become my new home and place of comfort. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but I don’t feel that this is the best place for me to live anymore. The destructiveness of war has changed my generation forever.