Col. Howe told us of one poor boy shot through the head who,
in a fit of delirium, imagined himself a prisoner and all his nurses rebels,
and so railed at and abused them, ending with: “I don't care what you do with
me. You may cut me in pieces, you may kill me, but I will hurrah for the Stars
and Stripes.” Dear Boy! Oh, I wish I were old enough to go on a hospital ship
or offer my services as nurse. When I hear of these poor fellows, I feel so
dreadfully mean to be dressed up in white muslin and enjoying myself.
SOURCE: William Rhinelander Stewart, The
Philanthropic Work of Josephine Shaw Lowell, p. 31
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