She would brave dangers, however.

She saw herself in a neat uniform, searching a battlefield strewn with the dead and wounded.

To the latter she administered reviving cordial from a minute cask suspended at her trim waist by a cord.

Shells burst about her, but to these she paid no heed.
It was thus the French officer--a mere lieutenant, later promoted for gallantry under fire--first observed her.

He called her an angel of mercy, and his soldiers--rough chaps, but hearty and outspoken--cheered her as La Belle Americaine.
So much for the war.