The Flaming Sword in Serbia and Elsewhere

by M. A. Stobart

We arrived at Pirot at 3 a.m. (Sunday, October 3rd). I was interested and also glad to find that I was not going to be coddled by the military authorities. The assumption was that I knew all about everything, and didn't need to be told; so I assumed it too.

As soon as the train stopped at Pirot, I called the sergeant, and then immediately I realised that I was face to face with a quaint little embarrassment. In the hospital at Kragujevatz, and at all the dispensaries, the soldiers and the people had always called me "Maika." For the position I then held this word was appropriate enough; but now, as Commander of an army column, might not other men hold our men to ridicule if they were under the orders of "Maika"? The sergeant appeared in answer to my summons. He saluted. "Ja, Maika?" he answered. There was no time for hesitation; there never should be; act first and find the reason afterwards is often the best policy, and I quickly determined to remain "Maika." The word "Maika" is already, to Serbian hearts, rich with impressions of the best qualities of the old-fashioned woman; it would do no harm to add to this a few impressions of qualities of authority and power not hitherto associated with women. It was a risk, but I risked it, and I never had cause for regret. I then told the sergeant to disembark the men, oxen, horses, and wagons, while the chauffeurs saw to the handling of the motors. I hoped that meantime a message would arrive giving the order for the next move; but, as nothing happened, I started off at 5 a.m. in one of the cars, with Dr. Coxon and the interpreter, to try and find the Staff Headquarters. Colonel Terzitch having, at Aranjelovatz, said I should find him at Pirot, I went into the town and asked at various public offices where Colonel Terzitch could be found, but no one could, or would, give any information, and we were eventually driving off on a false scent, and in a wrong direction, when I stopped an officer, who was driving towards us in his carriage, and I asked him to direct us. He gave us the information we wanted, and we ultimately tracked the Staff to their Headquarters, in their tents in a field about five kilometres from Pirot, at the moment when Major Popovitch was starting to meet us. Our train had arrived earlier than was expected, and he said he was glad we had pushed on. He took us at once to see the Commandant, who was awaiting us, and he gave us a hearty welcome. He was in the tent which we had given him, but it was wrongly pitched. So we took it down and put it up in the right way, whilst the Colonel told his soldiers to watch and see how it should be done. Then he took us to have slatko (jam) and coffee in the ognishta; a circular fence, made of kukurus, enclosed a wood fire, which was crackling busily in the middle; in a circle round the fire was a trench, about three feet deep and two feet wide, with a bank all round, levelled as a seat. We sat either on dry hay on the bank, or on stools, our feet comfortably touching ground in the trench. The usual slatko and glasses of water, followed by Turkish coffee and cigarettes, were handed round. We were so delighted with the ognishta that the Colonel said he would tell his men to build one for us in our camp, and later in the afternoon this was done.

Meantime we returned to the station, to bring out the convoy. The Colonel and Major Popovitch met us on the road and helped us to choose a site for the camp, about half a mile away from, and on a hill above their Headquarters. It was necessary to protect ourselves from aeroplanes by sheltering as much as possible near trees, and we found, on a reaped wheat-field adjoining a vine-field, a gorgeous site which gave us the protection of a hedge and of some trees, with a view to the east over a valley which divided us from Pirot, and the mountains of Bulgaria beyond.

From over these mountains we might at any moment hear the sound of guns telling of the outbreak of hostilities between Bulgaria and Serbia. The Allies had played into the hands of Bulgaria, and, by refusing to let Serbia strike at her own time, had given Bulgaria the advantage of striking at her time, chosen when support from Germany and Austria on the Danube front, would make the position of Serbia hopeless.

The Colonel had hospitably invited us all to lunch with him, but we couldn't burden him to that extent; and the camp work had to be done. Eight of us, therefore—the doctors, two nurses, two chauffeurs, the secretary, and myself—took advantage of the hospitality, and enjoyed an excellent lunch in a cottage which the officers were using as mess-room.

By the evening our first camp was installed, and next day, Monday, October 4th, Major Popovitch and various officers from Pirot came up, while the nurses were busy preparing dressings and cleaning the surgical instruments in the hospital tent, to see the arrangements. They seemed much pleased. The Pirot officers came up in an English car made in Birmingham.

We only had as patients a few sick soldiers, but there was plenty to do otherwise in arranging the men's routine of work and meals. The soldiers always did what they were told, but they needed constant prodding. In the morning early, for instance, I went to see if the horses and oxen were being properly fed, and I found that the hay and oats sent was insufficient; there was not enough to go round. Though the men knew this, they had said and done nothing, but had tethered the horses on barren ground, and left the oxen foodless in the same empty field. They were surprised when I told them that they must take all the animals to a pasture.

But they were quite as careless with their own food. They had eaten no hot meal since we left Kragujevatz; but, even now, when they had the chance, they were contenting themselves with bread and cheese, because the cook was too lazy to prepare hot food, and I had to insist on a meal being cooked. I made them light a fire, clean a big cauldron, and stew sheep and potatoes, with plenty of paprika or red pepper; then I told them I should come and taste it later. This I did, and the stew was excellent.

We were encircled by mountains, and near us, to the east, the beautiful little village of Suvadol, 1,300 feet above the sea, nestled snugly in its orchards of plums and apples.

The whole valley between us and Pirot was alive with bivouacs of armed men, all ready to march on Bulgaria. At any moment we might hear the rumbling of cannons over the hills, telling us that war had begun. But, as yet, the mountains were silent, their secrets hidden in the blue mist, which, in the evening, under the sunset colours, quickened into rainbows.