Remembering My Great Uncle on This Memorial Day
When I was a young boy and visited my grandparents in South Georgia each summer, I was always struck by the picture of a soldier that was prominently displayed in their living room.
The soldier was my grandfather's brother, John Webb, who died in France in 1918 just one month before the end of World War I.
I was always proud to hear my grandparents tell me about my great uncle's service and sacrifice. So much so that I obtained a copy of the picture, which I proudly display in my own home. Let me share with you a newspaper article from The Valdosta Times, which includes a letter from the French nurse who tenderly cared for John Webb until his death. She wrote it to my great grandmother in hopes of consoling her in her grief.
As you read it, I hope you'll join me this Memorial Day in remembering the tens of thousands who've paid the ultimate sacrifice in defense of our nation and the families they've left behind.
NURSE TELLS ABOUT DEATH OF JOHN WEBB:
An Interesting Letter From the French Nurse With Him in Last Hours.
Madam: It is with profound pain that I come to you. I know that I am going to cause you immense sorrow. Your son died very sweetly this morning at ten o'clock in our hospital. Perhaps you know already that he came from the ambulance to the hospital 44 Remiremont, the third of October. At first, we (doctor and nurse) were hopeful of his condition, but the Spanish grippe went into pneumonia and held to the last.
Two days ago an American doctor came to visit him, also some of his friends. As I speak a little English I was asked to care for him. With the grace of God that I came to know your dear child. I having said several words in his own language, he asked to see me again. Yesterday morning I visited him again and found him tired and he desired to sleep. In spite of this he conserved a brave spirit and wished to know much of the war. I could immediately understand this grand heart and see the charm of your son and I know it will be hard to console you in his loss.
In the afternoon I took him the New York Herald and he was happy at the news, and a bunch of grapes which he ate a few of and seemed to enjoy. I give you all these details so you will know that he was well cared for in our French hospital. Then as I was returning to my other patients he called me. I returned at once to him. It was four o'clock in the afternoon. After a good smile his face lost its expression of anxiety and it was with great confidence that he gave me his hands to hold. I was sitting near him. We talked little--just for the things necessary, to arrange his pillow, to give him something to drink. He breathed easily and seemed to suffer little pain but would tell me he was tired. My presence seemed to give him pleasure and he thanked me kindly in words and by his smile so frank.
Madam, have I taken you place a little? I have tried with all my heart to do it, to give your dear American soldier the impressions of home. In the evening the Catholic Priest came. At once the face of your son took a hopeful expression. He joined his hands and listened with much attention to the Father and the invocation that he pronounced to him. The night passed calmly, but it was visible that life was passing. This morning he insisted that he wanted to go out and I asked him to have patience by telling him that they had gone to look for his uniform. Then he called you. You remember hs sweet voice. "mama, Mama," he said. "I am at the hospital." I cried at the thought that it was impossible for you to give your child this great joy of seeing you. He forgot thought that he was unhappy and held my hand and smiled. He drank some milk and water at intervals. The doctor came two times and told me the end was approaching, and true at a few minutes before ten o'clock he passed out so sweetly without a pain, his two hands in mine. I closed his eyes and in so doing thought of you who would so love to have done this.
Since his last toilette is finished, I have cut a little hair from the crown of his head. I send it to you. You will receive also without doubt, after a little time his personal things, the two rings that he wore.
This afternoon (12th of October) at two o'clock was his interment--you dear child. He has had all the usual ceremonies. Here the civil population unite in going to the funerals of the soldiers to pay their respects to those who go and have bought with their lives the peace of our country.
He sleeps now under the shelter of our great trees near his brothers in arms who have preceded him. I accompanied him to the last, a substitute for you. Now what is there for me to tell you? It is that his grave will not be abandoned. The soldiers care for the graves of their comrades. Then when my service at the hospital will let me leave, I will go pray near him in your name and for myself also. Madam, I feel that you suffer much. I unite my tears with yours, but remember that he did not die alone. That he had near him to the very last a French girl who tried with all her heart to replace his dear mama so far away.
I hope very strongly that my sad letter will reach you for it would be as losing him twice to know nothing of his end.
Please receive, Madam, my compliments so sad.
MARCELLE DERONNE.
14 Rue Jules Ferry, Remiremont,
France