‘OUR LADY OF THE HUT.”

Waipawa Mail, Volume XXXVII, Issue 7915, 7 August 1917, Page 4

‘OUR LADY OF THE HUT.”

HER MESSAGE TO NEW ZEALAND MOTHERS.

A WOMAN’S INFINITE INFLUENCE.

The records of the war would be incomplete if the story of the work of a noble band of British women now numbering over 20,000 from all ranks in life who have put heart and soul into a wonderful piece of friendly ministration work in the “huts,” were passed unnoticed. These women of white souls and noble lives have done a mighty service to counteract the influence of the scarlet woman and the “pub,” the wet canteen and the deadly “away-from-home loneliness” of soldiers hungering for the music of a woman’s voice. In this unchristened army are engaged such persons as Princess Victoria, Lady Rodney, Lady Henry Grosernor, Hon. Mrs Stuart Wortley, Lady Forbes-Robert-son, Countess of Bessbrough, Lady Stradbrooke, Mrs Winston Churchill, Lena Ashwell and Mrs (Col.) Mylrea—“Our Lady of the Hut” as the New Zealand troops have lovingly named her, who tells the privilege she has enjoyed. Christian women of maturity and good sense from all positions of life —typists, teachers, sisters and mothers and wives of soldiers have done their bit. The barriers of rank are obliterated. They work side by side in the finest spirit, serving hot cocoa or tea, washing dishes, arranging concerts, handing out stationery or selling stamps. No wonder the most telling periods in Dr. John Kelman’s moving addresses lately given in American cities have been references to instances such as this. He tells of a lad of 19 just come from the furore and strain of a week's fighting in the trenches, grimy and mud-plastered. After he had bought his cup of tea, a mug of cocoa, his jam and bread, postal cards and everything that he could prolong his buying, a penny at a time, and he was asked “Are you wants met, my boy, can I do anything further for you?” he said, “No, I don’t want anything more but, I—l—just like to hear the sound of your voice.” There is another story which reflects the demand of the heart for mothering. A boy about one of the huts who had cut his hand came to a lady helper to have it bound up. After neatly giving her first aid attention the motherly-hearted woman said to the boy: “There, laddie, that’s all right. Isn’t that as nice as your mother would do it?” But the lad sheepishly said, “But my mother would have kissed me.” She did, and the kiss had more than healing for a cut finger; it healed a mere boy’s aching heart for mothering. This is a letter that Mrs Mylrea—“Our Lady of the Hut,” the robust New Zealanders call her, has written to the mothers of New Zealand. Mrs Mylrea is the widow of the late Col. Mylrea, who gave his life for the Empire at Ypres. Since this great sorrow befell her, she has found her solace and her delight in serving the New Zealanders with a devotion that is unique. White-hearted, mature Christian women of the Mrs Mylrea type will greatly neutralise the virulence of the scarlet woman’s virus:—

“Dear Mothers of Brave New Zealand Lads: I have been asked to write a short account of the work going on day by day in the Young Men’s Christian Association Hut at Sling Camp, Salisbury Plain, to which so many of your dear ones find their way before crossing over to France or on their return from that country after recovering from wounds or sickness.

“There is always great excitement in the minds of the helpers and myself when we hear a reinforcement from New Zealand is expected to arrive in camp, as for us it means much additional work of a most enjoyable kind, and the welcoming of many strange faces to the hut. “ It is a grand sight to see the khaki line wending its way from the station through the camp t'o the various huts allotted to it; but one that never fails to make me think of the aching, lonely hearts left behind in New Zealand, longing for a. sight of the loved faces that we are looking upon, and we, one and all, strive with all our power from the moment they enter the Y.M.C.A. to ‘mother’ and attend to the needs of 1 the strangers within our gates. ’

1 ‘ And their needs are many; so many develop colds and coughs coming from the tropical weather through which they have passed so recently on the voyage to a colder climate. Homely remedies, quinine, and camphorated oil and eucalyptus can be at once procured. In fact, we have remedies to remove all minor ailments. Here is a lad whose rifle has rubbed the skin off his hand; a boy who is footsore after a long march; another who, in opening a tin has badly cut his fingers. Minor dressings to be done ‘on the premises’ for all these cases, and many, many others, give me neverending pleasure, as I happen to be a certificated nurse and was .at a hospital in France till my health broke down.

“But what one so often finds the ‘boys’ need most of all is an opportunity to ‘just talk’ about their faraway home and of the precious mother, sister and often wife left behind. It relieves their loneliness, and is a never-ending source of interest to us at the same time.

“Many, many dozen of times a lad has entered the hut looking dreary and sad, but after a cup of tea in my sitting-room and an hour's talk all about the loved ones left behind he has cheered up wonderfully and gone away brighter and happier for ‘letting’off a little steam’ on the subject of home and mother. And we are shown pictures—generally very well worn ones —of the dear home land and all the relatives left behind there. I need not describe the hut—photographs of it have found their way to all of you in New Zealand, but I wish you could sometimes see your boys in it in the evenings when the red curtains are drawn and the red lampshades all show up and the tables are lined with contented-looking lads drinking their hot tea and consuming plates of fried eggs, sausages, etc., while the piano is ‘going’ at the far end of the hall to the accompaniment of the clicking of billiard and pingpong 1 balls. It is a cheerful sight and would, I am sure, gladden your aching hearts. At 8.30 one of the chaplains comes in and for a brief space—three or four minutes onlyprayer is offered up for theJoved ones far away and thanks given for preservation during the day,

“There is a post office in the hut where the boys can procure writing paper, envelopes and post cards free, buy stamps, post their letters and parcels, change their New Zealand notes and French money into the English equivalent and find out —this is the most important information—the date of the next incoming and out-going 'home’ mail. The boys also come to this department with their broken watches and our chauffeur takes them away to be repaired and gets them back again in the shortest possible time.

“We are here to supply as far as we possibly can the every need of the lads in camp—to make the hut as home-like as possible and to try and make up to them, however feebly and inefficiently—in a small degree for the absence of their own loved ones. Words of mine are totally inadequate to express our opinion of the New Zealand ‘boys,’ the never-failing courtesy, kindness and consideration shown to my helpers and myself is beyond all praise. It is indeed a labor of love to work for them and we can never cease to thank the “Giver of all good gifts” that we are allowed to do this.

‘ ‘ I cannot say how proud I am that I have been allowed to be in charge of this hut for New Zealand lads. If I, at this end, can do anything at all to help and assist the relatives of the lads here, I am honored if they will let me do it. Having lost all 1 held most dear in this world in this terrible war my sole comfort is to serve in every and any way the New Zealand lads in Sling Camp, and if possible their dear ones in their far-away homes. 19