The patients called us “sister” and we hotfooted here and there to attend their wants.
“Please rub my back, sister. I’m so tired lying in bed.” Or, “Won’t you bring me ice cream today instead of rice pudding?”
We were on duty from seven in the morning until seven at night with two hours off in the afternoon. I spent a great deal of time in the diet kitchen and later in the dispensary, because I knew a little chemistry. Probably the fact that I could be trusted not to drink up the medical supply of whisky counted more than the chemistry.
When the influenza epidemic struck town, I was one of the few volunteers permitted to be on night duty. I was transferred to a pneumonia ward and helped to ladle out medicine from buckets in the overcrowded wards of the institution.
I believe it was during the winter of 1918 that I became interested in airplanes. Though I had seen one or two at county fairs before, I now saw many of them, as the officers were trained at the various fields around the city. Of course, no civilian had opportunity of going up. But I hung around in spare time and absorbed all I could. I remember the sting of the snow on my face as it was blown back from the propellers when the training planes took off on skis.
Time rolled on and I was still in Toronto at the time of the Armistice. What a day!
All day long whistles kept up a continuous blowing. No means of transportation was available and
