Saturday, September 11, 1915.
To-day I have been in the wards taking the numbers down of all the patients. I also did some washing, then I got some lovely wild flowers and arranged them in our sitting-room. We have a gorgeous Indian tent; it is cool in the hot weather and warm in cold; it is lined inside with yellow. I have a very large tent all to myself; it would hold quite six or eight beds, so I am in luck's way. On my table I constantly find dishes of grapes, and to-night I found a dish of boiled corn—so good, I invited four of the nurses up to help eat it. The farm girls bring me all these good things, but of course I have to be careful what I eat. Five of the Second Farmers' unit have been to spend the day with us; one of them comes from St. Leonards. She has asked me to go and see her when I return to England. I also met a nurse from Holland; she knows me quite well by sight; she used to work for Dr. Stanley Turner at Battersea.
Sunday, September 12, 1915.
I have been for two short walks to-day. The fields are still a mass of lovely wild flowers, and the hedges full of red berries. I keep the sitting-room supplied with flowers as I am not allowed to do work, so I do all kinds of odd jobs.
Monday, September 13, 1915.
A wet day, so I wrote cards this morning and mended stockings. Letters and papers are coming very badly from home. We have seven dispensaries at work; Mrs. Stobart has just started the last one.
Tuesday, September 14, 1915.
I went for a walk with one of the sisters. We saw a large Serbian camp, then on to a gipsy village. We had crowds of little children after us; they are not used to seeing strangers about. We then saw a cemetery where some Austrian prisoners were digging up some old graves; the skulls and bones they were collecting and putting into handkerchiefs to re-bury them; it was a ghastly sight. In this cemetery they had little arched fireplaces made of brick at the head of each grave. I suppose in the cold weather when they come to wail over the grave they light a fire. I have picked up seven horseshoes, so I ought to have some good luck.
A waggon drawn by oxen at Kragujevatz.