Gore was handed me. He said (in
substance), "I know how bitterly you feel, but pray for strength to
cast out evil spirits from your heart. Forget that the suffering men,
thrown upon our kindness and forbearance, are _Yankees_. Remember only
that they are God's creatures and helpless prisoners. They need you.
Think the matter over, and do not disappoint me. Gore."
I do not believe that ever before or since have I fought so hard a
battle. God helping me, I decided to do right. The short, sharp
contest ended--I acted at once.
On my way to the Federal wards, I met more than one hospital-attendant
carrying off a bloody leg or arm to bury it. I felt then, and saw no
reason to alter my opinion afterwards, that some of their surgeons
were far rougher and less merciful than ours; and I do not believe
they ever gave the poor, shattered fellows the benefit of a doubt. It
was easier to amputate than to attend a tedious, troublesome recovery.
So, off went legs and arms by the wholesale.
I had not been five minutes in the low, brick ward, where lay the most
dangerously wounded Federals, when all animosity vanished and my
woman's heart melted within me.
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