Loyola College - Review Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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CAPTAIN JOHN P. WALSH, No. 2 Hospital, C. A.M.C. B.A. 1904. Died of Wounds, August 17th, 1916.

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LOYOLA COLLEGE REVIEW 21 reached London, he had a secondary infection of the right knee. This was operated by one of the leading surgeons of London, Col. Mansell Moulin. The knee was opened and drained and there was a secondary hemorrhage from the knee, which made Johnn y very weak. This was done on Tuesday and he had a good night, and Wednesday, when I rang up, he was very well. But suddenly a terrible hemorrhage came on from the first wound in the thigh. They then hurried him from the ward to the operating room, and tied up the big blood vessel of the right leg, and I was in the hospital when he came down to the ward. It was God sent me, as I had a chance to see him before death. My heart was just broken when I saw him and he cried out to me—I can hear him yet—''Oh, Bill! Bill! Itis death that has come, and for God's sake do make them give me a little relief! It would be so good to die to get rid of the pain ! Well, I stayed with him until 4.30 p.m. We gave him three injections to relieve the pain, and after an hour he was very quiet. He told me that he had been prepared for death, and we got a priest to see him. I am enclosing a card with his name, and you may write him for all information. When I was there he prayed with Johnny, and gave him his blessing, and he told me he had given him Communion and the Last Sacrament previous to his first operation in London. : Well, I came back to the hospital at 7.30 p.m. When I had left he was resting, but his pulse was doing fairly well, but when I returned he was slowly sinking. I stayed with him till near two a.m., and although he was given stimulation he became unconscious. I had to leave, but they told me they would let me know how things had been going with him, every two or three hours. The doctor phoned me once, saying he was fair, and at 7.40 he phoned saying he had passed away. I told the people of the D.M.S. Office, and I went out to see him. This was the hardest of all. I looked over his belongings, and I took his letters, both opened and unopened, and those from his sweetheart I am sending back to her, with a letter telling her the bad news. God help her! but it will be hard for her to bear. I could not bear to open anything of his, except one to get her address, and there was a wire from her anxiously asking for news. It came in the day he died. I don't know how I will be able to write to her, or what to say, as I knew so little of his affairs in France, but someone must do it, and I am sure he would have done the same for me. I left his scapular medal on him, and am sending you his beads.... The rest of his kit is, I believe, sent to Records, Canadians, who will send it to his next of kin, but I kept his cigarette case, which I am sending you. I cried when I saw it. You will remember I gave it to him that Christmas I was so ill, and he was so good to me. I could not leave it with the rest of his kit. I do not smoke or I would ask you for it. But please keep it yourself, as I would hate anyone else but you to have it. I arranged with Mgr. Burke to have the funeral at 10 a.m., 2151 inst., and I am coming to London for the service. I said good-bye to him in the mortuary chapel, and I kissed his forehead for you and his sweetheart, and the chapter is finished. I could not do any more. I hope I have done all that you wished me to do. I could not think of anything else. As a doctor I made his end peaceful, and as a friend I closed his eyes. I am satisfied that all that was possible was done in his case, and it was God's will, and you will have to bear the loss. To us all that knew him he is a loss, and most of all to me, outside of his family and sweet- heart. Му wife and sister feel very badly, as we had hoped to see him soon, and had planned to have him with us, and I had arranged that when he was fit to travel he should be sent back home on transport duty. This long letter is now finished. Some day, if God spares us, we will meet in happier times, and I'll be able to tell you what I have written. There is not much more to tell you. From 1.30 till 4.30 p.m., while he was conscious, I did very little but whisper to him that all was well, and to try and sleep. He said very little except that he was glad to see me. The cruel part of this cruel affair was that when asked at the hospital if he had any friends in England, he was so poisoned and septic that he had forgotten, and never mentioned my name. I cannot understand it, but itis a fact. The only one who saw him was an agent of Wm. Power, M.P., Quebec, wh o called the day before I did. He asked me not to send you word that he was bad, as he did not wish to worry you, and on several occasions he said: I don't know what my poor little girl will do. FROM COLONEL ROSS. I regret that Col. Delaney has just given me the sad news of your brother's death. He was in my division as medical officer of the 2nd Battalion, at the wish of Lt.-Col. Swift, and we had all learned to esteem him as a courageous officer. He could easily have returned some time ago to a hospital, but preferred to remain with us at the front. I visited him the morning after he was wounded, and found everything being done for him that was possible, but on the third day septic troubles were found and things became more serious; but next day an improvement occurred, and we were all cheered till he was sent down to the base from the casualty clearing station. The knowledge that he was esteemed by all officers, that he was most courageous on all occasions, most modest and retiring, after many exhibitions of bravery, and that above all he