‘Odessa, June 24, 1917.
‘I wish you could realise how the little nations, Serbs and Rumanians and Poles, count on us. What a comfort it is to them to think we are “the most tenacious” nation in Europe. In their eyes it all hangs on us. It is all terrible and awful. I don’t believe we can disentangle it all in our minds just now. The only thing is just to go on doing one’s bit. Because, one thing is quite clear, Europe won’t be a habitable place if Germany wins—for anybody.
‘I think there are going to be a lot of changes here.’
‘July 15, 1917.
‘I have had German measles! The Consul asked me what I meant by that at my time of life! The majority of people say how unpatriotic and Hunnish of you! Well, a few days off did not do me any harm. I had a very luxurious time lying in my tent. The last lot of orderlies brought it out.’
‘Odessa, Aug. 15, 1917.
‘The work at Reni is coming to an end, and we are to go to the front with the Serbian Division. I cannot write about it owing to censors and people. But I am going to risk this: the Serbs ought to be most awfully proud. The Russian General on the front is going to insist on having them “to stiffen up his Russian troops.” I think you people at home ought to know what magnificent fighting men these Serbs are, and so splendidly disciplined, simply worth their weight in gold. There are only two divisions of them after all. We have about thirty-five of them in hospital just now as sanitaries, and they are such a comfort; their quickness and their devotion is wonderful. The hospital was full and overflowing when I left—still Russians. Most of the cases were slight; a great many left hands, if you know what that means. I don’t think the British Army does know!
‘We had a Red Cross inspecting officer down from Petrograd. He was very pleased with everything, and kissed my hand on departing, and said we were doing great things for the Alliance. I wanted to say many things, but thought I had better leave it alone.
‘We are operating at 5 A.M. now, because the afternoons are so hot. The other day we began at 5, and had to go till 4 P.M. after all.
‘Matron and I had a delightful ride the other evening. Just as we had turned for home, an aeroplane appeared, and the first shot from the anti-aircraft guns close beside us was too much for our horses, who promptly bolted. However, there was nothing but the clear Steppe before us, so we just sat tight and went. After a little they recovered themselves, and really behaved very well.’
‘Aug. 28.
‘You dear, dear people, how sweet of you to send me a telegram for my birthday. You don’t know how nice it was to get it and to feel you were thinking of me. It made me happy for days. Miss G. brought it me with a very puzzled face, and said, “I cannot quite make out this telegram.” It was written in Russian characters. She evidently was not used to people doing such mad things as telegraphing the “Many happy returns of the day” half across the world. I understood it at once, and it nearly made me cry. It was good to get it, though I think the Food Controller or somebody ought to come down on you for wasting money in the middle of a war.
‘I am finishing this letter in Reni. We closed the hospital yesterday, and joined our Division somewhere on Friday. The rush that had begun before I got to Odessa got much worse. They had an awfully busy time, a faint reminiscence of Galatz, though, as they were operating twelve hours on end, I don’t know it was so very faint. We had no more left hands, but all the bad cases. Everybody worked magnificently, but they always do in a push. The time a British unit goes to pieces is when there is nothing to do!
‘So this bit of work ends, eight months. I am quite sorry to leave it, but quite quite glad to get back to our Division.
‘Well, Amy dearest, good-bye for the present. I wonder what will happen next! Love to all you dear people.’
‘S.W.H.,
‘Hadji Abdul, Oct. 17, 1917.‘I wonder if this is my last letter from Russia! We hope to be off in a very few days now. We have had a very pleasant time in this place with its Turkish name. It shows how far north Turkey once came. We are with the Division, and were given this perfectly beautiful camping-ground, with trees, and a slope towards the east. The question was whether we were going to Rumania or elsewhere. It is nice being back with these nice people. They have been most kind and friendly, and we have picnics and rides and dances, and dinners, and till this turmoil of the move began we had an afternoon reception every day under the walnut trees! Now, we are packed up and ready to go, and I mean to walk in on you one morning. It does not stand thinking of!
‘We shall have about two months to refit, but one of those is my due as a holiday, which I am going to take. I’ll see you all soon.—Your loving aunt,
‘Elsie.’
To Mrs. Simson
‘Archangel, Nov. 18, 1917.
‘On our way home. Have not been very well; nothing to worry about. Shall report in London, then come straight to you. Longing to see you all.
‘Inglis.’