Life in the war front is completely different than what I had imagined. As a Nursing Sister, or Bluebird, my job never ends, which makes writing in this journal extremely difficult. So many men come in with disgusting wounds, I feel sick just thinking about it even though I have nursing experience back home. I only joined the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps because father decided to join the war front himself. I understand that as a militant who has aided in previous military acts would feel responsible to join the war but, he also has responsibilities at home. I can’t do everything myself! Father refuses to speak to me. When I try to tend his injuries, he doesn’t even look at me, or he would just go to another nurse. I don’t understand why he is angry with me, when he’s allowing himself to join the army and risk his entire life. His entire life depends on whether his rifle gets jammed after a rapid fire or not.
Along with me, Elizabeth is apart of the Nursing Sisters too. Elizabeth, other than my father, is my only reminder home. Most nights when we can’t seem to fall asleep after a long day of work, we sit and talk about all the fun we had when we were younger. Playing tennis, long summer days, and crying
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Despite the fact that I did leave him a lengthy letter telling him how much I will miss him and my reasons to leaving him, I feel as though he’s angry with me. Several nights before I left I asked him about what he thought about me leaving my nursing job at home and to help out in the warfront, just to see what he would say, and he completely lost his temper. He told me that I was crazy to put myself in harms way like that and I could help out at home. I hope he understands why I left, he does know how I’m passionate to help people in need, which is why I started to practice nursing. I hope he is not mad when I come home, well, if I come