BERLIN — Lorraine Toussaint Kelley was two years out of nursing school in 1943 when she decided to enlist in the U.S. Armed Forces.

The Berlin native, 23-years-old at the time, quickly learned to adjust to rougher living standards as she got used to Army life at bases in the South, where wild pigs roamed through tents and scorpions hid in the sleeves of uniforms.

It was only a hint of what was to come, as the young woman served with the 96th Evacuation Hospital in Europe, following the injured and ill as the Allies pushed their way across France, through Belgium and into Germany.

On Thursday at Berlin High School in front of friends, family and students, Lorraine Kelley, now a spritely 91-year-old, received the official appointment as a “Chevalier” of the Legion of Honor by decree, on Feb. 14, of French President Nicolas Sarkozy.

Pinning the medal on retired Captain Kelley, Christophe Guilhou, consul general of France in Boston, said, “We are grateful for your heroic actions as it has meant a great deal to France's history and consciousness. Your contribution is an exemplary model for all future generations, particularly as both French and American troops are still engaged in conflicts in other parts of the world, such as today in Afghanistan.”

Thanking her for her courage and dedication, Guilhou continued, “It is a real privilege to decorate you today with the Legion of Honor as a token of France's eternal gratitude.”

Steven Kelley wrote in a letter of support for his mother's award: “The 96th was lucky that their ship wasn't sunk during the crossing (as was the vessel they were originally scheduled to sail on), lucky that during Naval gunfire over their position at St. Mere Eglise didn't fall too short of its target, lucky that the two 500 (pound) bombs dropped by the Germans on their nurses' quarters failed to explode, and lucky that the 96th moved from Montzen, Belgium, to Aachen (Germany) three days before a buzz bomb destroyed the building they had recently occupied.”

From June 16, 1944, when they landed at Utah Beach, to May 9, 1945, the 96th's 40 doctors and 40 nurses administered to 24,524 patients. They were Allied soldiers, enemy combatants and civilians caught in middle of the war.

Kelley was thanked for her service by Mayor Paul Grenier, outgoing Sen. John Gallus, District 1 Executive Councilor Ray Burton, Berlin High School Principal Gary Bisson and others, but it was her own words that captivated those gathered, including Berlin High students, in the coziness of the school's library.

“I am most aware,” she read from a prepared statement, “of the fact that many of those with whom I served were called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice in the summer of 1944, and it is with them in mind that I accept this award.”

She then departed from her script and spoke from the heart.

“We never knew, every morning when we got up, is it going to be today?” Mrs. Kelley said that a mad German blew up the ship they were supposed to take across the channel to the beaches of Normandy, and it wasn't until about midnight that other transportation was found for them.

She said when they landed, they were between the U.S. and German tanks, and were told to keep their helmets on. She took a chance, though, and washed some of her dirty clothes in her helmet with water from her canteen. It turned out not to be a good idea — the siren went off and she quickly slapped her helmet back on her head — sudsy clothes and all.

“You have to be able to laugh at yourself,” she added.

Mrs. Kelley said that people have asked her about seeing the bodies of soldiers in the water, but said that they didn't see that because they were in the hold of the ship. They did see action right away, even though they did not immediately have their own hospital to work in.

They moved frequently, finding housing and facilities were they could. Because she was a Toussaint from Berlin, she could speak French, and though the accent was different, she served as an interpreter, too. In one area, they found a convent to house the 40 nurses. Kelley chuckled as she remembered the situation — the grimy nurses with their muddy boots coming into the clean convent.

“To have another language when there's a war comes in handy,” she said. She noted her unit had a Jewish nurse who had lived in Germany, and so knew German, and another nurse of Italian heritage who served as interpreter of that language.

Being an Army or Navy nurse, she told the students in the audience, “It's probably the best decision you make in your life.”

In January 1945, the unit received orders to move to Spa, Belgium. It was the first evacuation hospital in the Bulge, within eight miles of the front line. They set up their medical facilities in riding halls and cavalry barns.

At the end of the war in Europe, Lorraine Toussaint was assigned to a hospital in Marseille, France, her son Steven said, and was scheduled to go to the Pacific. Before the nurses were transported, the Japanese surrendered.

Lorraine Toussaint came home to Berlin, married and became Lorraine Toussaint Kelley, raising two sons and becoming active at the local hospital.