he had inhaled the gas so much that it was only a matter of a
few hours. I could scarcely believe that a man so big and
strong as he was could not pull through.

The first bad attack he had, losing his breath and nearly
choking, rather frightened him, although the doctor and I were
both with him. He held my hand tightly in his, begging me not
to leave him, and repeating, over and over, that it was good
to have a woman near. He was propped high in bed and put his
head on my shoulder while I fanned him until he breathed more
easily. I stayed with him all that night, though I was not on
duty. You see, his eyes also were badly burned. But before he
died he was able to see very well. I stayed with him every
minute of that night and have never seen a finer character
than he showed during all that dreadful fight for life. He had
several bad sinking attacks that night and came through each
one simply because of his great will power and fighting
spirit. After each attack he would grip my hand and say,
"Well, we made it that time, didn't we, nurse? And if you'll
only stay with me we'll win this fight." At intervals during
the night I gave him sips of black coffee which was all he
could swallow. Each time I gave it to him he would ask me if I
had had some. That was only one instance of his thoughtfulness
even in his suffering. Toward morning he asked me if he was
going to die. I could not tell him the truth. He needed all
his strength. I told him he had one chance in a thousand. He
seemed to become very strong then, and sitting bolt upright in
bed and shaking his fist, he said: "Then by the Lord I'll
fight for it!" We kept him alive for three days, and actually
thought we had won when on the third day....