Why should they?
In this sisterhood of mercy they all three stood upon the same common ground.

I never knew that slop jars were noble things until I saw women in these military lazarets bearing them in their arms; then to me they became as altar vessels.
Lacking women to do it, the head surgeon had intrusted the task of clearing away the dirt to certain men.

A sorry job they made of it.
For accumulated nastiness that waiting room was an Augean stable and the two soldiers who dawdled about in it with brooms lacked woefully in the qualities of Hercules.

Putting a broom in a man's hands is the best argument in favor of woman's suffrage that I know of, anyhow.

A third man who helped at chores in the transformed lunch room had gathered up and piled together in a heap upon the ground near us a bushel or so of used bandages--grim reminders left behind after the last train went by-- and he had touched a match to the heap in an effort to get rid of it by fire.