REINFORCEMENTS IN THE SNOW
AN EARLY START. PACKING UP
The next afternoon, it having at last stopped snowing, I walked over to visit my old friends in the ambulance a couple of miles up the road, and we sat by the camp fire and pored over the map of Albania, whither we should soon be going, and discussed the war as usual. When I got back about sunset I found the Commandant had gone to visit a company who were camped about a mile and a half up the road, and his Adjutant was waiting for me, as we thought it would be a good opportunity to give away some of the warm woollen helmets while it was so cold. Accordingly, followed by a couple of men carrying the wool helmets, some cigarettes and a few pots of jam, we started for the camp. It turned out to be the Fourth Company of the First Battalion, strange to say, the very company that I afterwards joined, though I didn’t guess that at the time. It was a most picturesque scene with the little tents all crowded together, and dozens of big camp fires blazing in the snow with soldiers sitting round them; they all seemed very cheery in spite of the bitter cold. We had a great reception, the whole company was lined up, and under the direction of their Company Commander I gave every seventh man a white woollen helmet—unfortunately there were not enough for each man to have one—and every man a couple of cigarettes, and my orderly followed with half a dozen large pots of jam and a spoon, the men opening their mouths like young starlings waiting to be fed. This is a national custom in Serbia; directly you visit a house your hostess brings in a tray with a pot of jam, glasses of water and a dish with spoons on it. You eat a spoonful of jam, take a drink of water, and put your spoon down on another dish provided for that purpose. It is very amusing to see a stranger the first time this is presented to him; he generally does not know what he is supposed to do, or whether he is to dip the jam into the water, or vice versa, and how many spoonfuls it would be polite to eat, Serbian jam being extraordinarily good. One Englishman I knew wanted to go on eating several spoonfuls, and I had gently but firmly to check him.
I was introduced to all the officers, and a great many of the men who were pointed out to me as having done something very special. One of the men was wearing an English medal for “distinguished conduct in the field.” The men seemed awfully pleased with their little presents; they never have anything in the way of luxury—no jam, sweets or tobacco served out to them with their rations, no parcels or letters from home (at this time), no concerts or amusements got up for their benefit, none of the things that our Tommies hardly regard in the light of luxuries, but necessities. No one who has not lived with them can imagine how simply they live, how much they think of a very little, and what a small thing it takes to please them. After that little ceremony was over we sat round the officers’ camp fire and a young sergeant—a student artist—played the flute very well indeed, and they sang some of their national songs. It was all so friendly and fascinating that we were very loath indeed to tear ourselves away, and I promised to come back next day and take their photographs, but next day they were not there, having been ordered off at dawn to hold some positions up on the hills.
Among other sundry oddments in my luggage I had a box of chessmen and a board, and as several of them could play we whiled away many weary hours when we had nothing else to do playing chess. The Commandant and I were very evenly matched, and we used to have some tremendous battles, sometimes long after everyone else was asleep, and always kept a careful record of who won. Some of the others were very keen on it too, and those who were not playing would stand round and offer advice. I used sometimes to think, as I listened to the sounds of hurried packing up going on all round while we sat calmly playing chess, that the Bulgars would walk in one day and capture the lot of us, chessboard and all.
About 9 p.m. next night the Commandant gave the order to start, and we walked the first mile, the horses being led behind, I suppose to get used to the roads, which were one slippery sheet of ice. When we got to Bitol, which was quite close, we went to the headquarters of the Commandant of the division, and sat there till about midnight, while he and our Commandant discussed matters. We met Dr. Nikotitch there again, and he and Commandant Wasitch asked me if I really had made up my mind to go on. They said the journey through Albania would be very terrible, that nothing we had gone through so far was anything approaching it, and that they would send me down to Salonica if I liked. I was not quite sure whether having a woman with them might not be more of an anxiety and nuisance to them than anything else, though they knew I did not mind roughing it; and I asked them, if so, to tell me quite frankly, and I would go down to Salonica that night. They were awfully nice, though, and said that “for them it would be better if I stopped, because it would encourage the soldiers, who already all knew me, and to whose simple minds I represented, so to speak, the whole of England.” The only thought that buoyed them up at that time, and still does, was that England would never forsake them. So that settled the matter, as I should have been awfully sorry if I had had to go back, and I believe the fact that I went through with them did perhaps sometimes help to encourage the soldiers.