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MY DIARY IN SERBIA
April 1, 1915—Nov. 1, 1915
The Author—Monica M. Stanley.
Frontispiece.
MY DIARY IN
SERBIA
April 1, 1915—Nov. 1, 1915
By
MONICA M. STANLEY
Attached to the "Stobart Field Hospital" in Serbia
ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOS
LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL,
HAMILTON, KENT & CO., LIMITED
Copyright.
First issued, Feb., 1916.
To
My very dear Aunt
ELIZABETH STANLEY
this book is
Dedicated
PREFACE
Brave Serbia has not been forgotten in her hour of need by the women of England. For the Women's Imperial Service League, with Mrs. St. Clair Stobart as directress, went out to Serbia under the ægis of the Serbian Relief Fund, after arduous work out in Antwerp and after at Cherbourg. Mrs. Stobart decided that ours should be a Field Hospital owing to typhus and other fever raging in the country.
We left on April 1, 1915, on the Admiralty transport Saidieh for Salonica. The staff consisted of Mrs. St. Clair Stobart as directress, Mr. J.H. Greenhalgh as treasurer, a secretary, seven women doctors, eighteen trained nurses, four trained cooks, one dispenser, one sanitary inspector, an English chaplain and fourteen orderlies, of which some were chauffeurs.
The Field Hospital was perfectly equipped; everything we took with us. We had over sixty tents, 300 beds, with every necessary for them; bales of clothes for wounded and the civil population; the kitchen requisites, with four excellent cooking stoves with ovens; several portable boilers for hot water; large tanks for cold water; laundry equipments; medical stores; over £300 of food-stuffs; X-ray; all sanitary necessaries; motor ambulances. Our Field Hospital was to be at Kragujevatz; the tents were soon pitched and well arranged.
We had the following tents: one for X-ray, operating theatre; one to receive the patients; a large mess tent for patients and one for staff; one for linen—laundry; two kitchens—one for patients and one for staff; dispensary; food stores; a recreation tent for the staff, and one for the doctors; then there were lavatory and bath tents; the rest were wards and for the staff to sleep in. Our Hospital was soon full. I was the head of the kitchen departments, and I looked after the catering and food stores. I was very happy with my staff, in spite of the work being hard and the hours long, but we knew that we were doing good to our fellow-countrymen.
Mrs. Stobart and the doctors found that the civil population was suffering terribly owing to the war, as there was a scarcity of doctors and no proper hospitals to send them to; and as we were trying to stamp out all disease before fighting started again, it was decided that we should have some roadside dispensaries and a civil hospital for all the worst cases. Arrangements were made that Dr. May should return to England to raise funds for more equipments. We also wanted more doctors, nurses and cooks. It did not take long before everything was forthcoming. Seven dispensaries were started and excellent work was accomplished in quite a short time. Over one hundred people attended the dispensaries most days, and over eleven thousand of the poor suffering population were soon relieved from their pain and suffering.
MONICA M. STANLEY.
SERBIA'S GREAT NEED
Mrs. St. Clair Stobart with Mr. Greenhalgh, doctors, nurses, and orderlies, were to have left for Serbia on Saturday, March 27. On Friday the unit met at 39, St. James' Street to have their photos taken, then at 4.30 a service at St. Martin's-in-the-Field, conducted by the Rev. Percy Dearmer. We had two hymns, a nice address; a collection was taken of just over £12 for our unit. After the service we went to a farewell tea at Lady Cowdray's, 16, Carlton Terrace. Lady Muir Mackenzie and several others from the Women's Imperial Service League were there. Sir T. Lipton, who had just arrived home, told us of his experiences in Serbia, with all the horrors and hardships. Lady Cowdray presented the unit with a Thermos flask each, as a parting gift. Lady Muir Mackenzie gave each a Tommy's cooker, which I found most useful. We heard that the Admiralty had again put off our unit, and that half of us only could leave on the following Wednesday or Thursday. The following Monday we had orders from Mrs. Stobart that nineteen of us would leave on April 1 with her (the heads of the departments, with one or two other members). We also heard that Dr. and Mrs. Dearmer were going with us, the former as Chaplain to visit the sick and wounded, and his wife as an orderly to our unit.
MY DIARY IN SERBIA
Thursday, April 1, 1915.
Nineteen of the unit left for Serbia. We met at Euston station at 9.30. The train left at 10.30 a.m. for Liverpool. We had crowds of friends to see us off. All the equipments for our Field Hospital had gone the previous Saturday by the Torcello from the East Indian Docks by the Admiralty transport. We are taking out sixty-three tents; the large ones hold fifteen to twenty patients. We have 300 beds and all other equipments to fit up a Hospital, with over £300 worth of food-stuffs.
All the unit are in a dark grey uniform with large pockets, making it most useful, and nice hats to match.
We arrived in Liverpool at 2.30 p.m. on Thursday; then collected our luggage. We were each allowed to take one cabin trunk and a hold-all.
On reaching the docks we got on the boat Saidieh for Salonika. We left the docks at 10 o'clock, and lay in the harbour till Good Friday, starting at 8.30 p.m. We could not leave before, we heard, owing to messages sent to the captain. It was nice and calm Friday night, but I did not take off my clothes and could not sleep, thinking and wondering if any danger might come to us. The Saidieh is a horrid boat, not at all clean, and the sanitary arrangements are terrible. It is a Greek boat of about 3,000 tons; in the usual way it carries mails and cargo to and from Greece and Constantinople. The weather was good as far as St. George's Channel; we could see Ireland when in the Irish Sea; but it became rather misty, a sea fog came on, and the horn was continually sounded.
Saturday, April 3, 1915.
The weather continues to get stormy, the boat rolls terribly; most of the passengers are getting ill, so we get fewer and fewer to meals. At midday the captain gave out that no passenger must take off any clothes at night, and that boat station would be held on the upper deck at 3 o'clock; this did not sound at all nice. At 3 o'clock we all went on deck and had tickets given us for the lifeboats in case of danger. Fourteen of us had tickets for No. 1 boat, two for No. 3 and three for No. 6. We were nearly all separated at first, but I managed to get our tickets changed. Mrs. Stobart was delighted, as of course it was nicer for all to be together. It seems we were in great danger till we passed the Scilly Isles. Saturday evening we were a very tiny party for dinner. There are about 150 passengers on board, all units going to different parts of Serbia. We have some of Dr. Berry's unit; Mr. Wynch's unit, called the British Farmers, owing to the farmers collecting the money for it.
Map showing position of Mrs. Stobart's Field Dispensaries.
I forgot to say that on Good Friday we had a short service conducted by Mr. Wynch; we had the hymn for those at sea. There is Dr. Bevis' unit, a Russian one, and the other units are the wounded Allies and Admiral Trowbridge's unit.
Saturday evening some of us played bridge, two doctors, a nurse and myself.
Sunday, Easter Day, April 4, 1915.
Nearly every passenger dreadfully ill; only about ten people for breakfast. The boat rolls most dreadfully. We could have no service. A terrible Easter Sunday. I shall never forget it. I was kept busy all the day. In the afternoon the only one of our unit left was overcome with sleep, so she had to rest. The captain said that if any one was not ill, they could consider themselves good sailors. I am more than pleased that I have not been ill. We are having a very bad crossing; every minute I think our end is coming. I have never been in such a horrid boat. We have no stewardesses, only stewards, and they are Africans—all black. The captain is English, and the first and second mates Greeks.
The other thirty of our unit left to-day; they go from Folkestone to Boulogne and thence by train to Marseilles, where they catch another boat for Salonica. Owing to our leaving a day later they may arrive at Salonica before we do.
We are still having a terrible tossing. I have given up my berth and am sleeping on deck. The noises at night are something terrible, all kinds of things falling and smashing. On Saturday night I jumped up at 2.30; I thought our end had come. I went round to see what had happened; the luggage was pitched all over the place. I have slept in the dining saloon the last two nights. The captain told us to-day that we could undress at night, we were out of danger of submarines, but I shall not until we are out of the Bay of Biscay. Most of us have been on deck to-day. I am hoping by to-morrow they will all be well again. To-night about 12 o'clock we hope to be at Cape Finisterre. I shall be thankful, for I have not slept since I left home; the noise on this boat has been so terrific.
We passed Villan's lighthouse at 10 p.m. It was a lovely night and the water lit up with phosphorus. The captain appeared at dinner this evening, so things are getting better for us.
Tuesday, April 6, 1915.
All the sick are sitting on deck to-day, so we have not much to do. This morning I played deck quoits with several of the passengers. I learnt a little Serbian. We are a happy party; every one is so friendly. We have sheep, ducks and fowls on board—all have been sick; also two dogs. I slept on deck last night, a perfectly lovely night.
The weather has quite changed; it is perfectly glorious to-day. This morning we learnt Serbian for a little and wrote letters. This afternoon I have been sitting in a lifeboat, with the sun streaming on me; it was heavenly. We have just passed Portugal. I took several photos. We passed Cape St. Vincent at 2.30 p.m. We could never have been saved if anything had gone wrong with this boat; it is a terrible old tub. We get to Gibraltar to-morrow, I hear, about 10 o'clock, so this will be posted.
We have just been having Swedish drill on deck, as the doctors wish to keep us in good health for the hard work we expect later.
Thursday, April 8, 1915.
Slept on deck last night, but always have to be up at 6 o'clock for deck to be cleaned. A glorious morning. Up at six, went down and dressed, then came on deck; it was a little misty. We could see Tangier quite well and all along the coast of Africa. Later on in the morning, and on the opposite side was Gibraltar. It was quite interesting. We were inspected, and the captain got our letters taken back for us. I took a great many photographs. We saw shoals of porpoises, which followed the boat for some distance. I took a snapshot of them. The day got hotter and hotter, so we sat in the lifeboat and enjoyed the view. We had to get out our shady hats, and we had no coats on. At 12 o'clock we had drill. This afternoon I have been playing bridge with the doctors, a perfect day. At 4.30 we passed the most gorgeous snow-capped mountains, Sierra Nevada. This evening the captain is having dinner with us, and after we are to have a dance. It is getting very rough again this evening, and all the portholes have had to be closed.
Friday, April 9, 1915.
A nice morning. We had drill on deck, then had our Serbian lesson. After lunch it began to get rough, and a great many of the passengers are ill again. We passed Algiers to-day, and we have a very bad swell on to-night, owing to being near the Gulf of Lyons. We have been playing bridge this afternoon. We had a dance last evening. To-night we were to have had games, but it has been too rough. We have to learn two pages of Serbian every day; it is very dry.
Saturday, April 10, 1915.
A dreadful night. We slept on deck, and at 1 o'clock it began to thunder, lightning and hail. We got simply drenched. We are having it quite as rough as in the Bay of Biscay.
It is blowing a gale to-day. We are to have a bridge party to-night. We had an amusing dinner; we had to hold on to everything. A dish of chicken was thrown all over the saloon, glasses, plates, knives, forks, oranges and apples. We could none of us sit in our places. Great trunks were thrown all over the passages. It will be a wonderful thing if we get to Salonika. It makes me feel happy to think that I have so many kind friends at home remembering us in their prayers. I wish the Admiralty could be sent out on this boat. The food is nearly all bad; we can scarcely eat anything, and I hear we are getting short of water. We are not allowed to stop until we get to Salonika.
Our bridge party went off well, but it was a bit slow. Mrs. Claude Askew got the first prize.
The African niggers are very amusing; they call us all Misses. They told us if we did go into the sea and drown we should get plenty of fresh air, as we are so fond of having our portholes open in our berths. They will come and tuck us up at night.
Sunday, April 11, 1915.
It still continues to be rough. We are to have our service this evening. We passed Tunis at 8 o'clock this morning. We had a very bad thunderstorm last night again; the lightning was very vivid. A good many of us had to sleep in the saloon.
I am learning Serbian with Mrs. Stobart; she has just heard my lesson and given me twenty more words to learn. It is a most uninteresting language.
Monday, April 12, 1915.
Had drill at 10 o'clock, then "follow my leader" all over the ship. At 10.30 we passed Sicily; we could see the olive groves. An Italian destroyer has been following us. We erected the English flag, so they soon left us. I am taking part in some tableaux, so we rehearsed this afternoon. Since I have been playing bridge. It is dreadfully rough again, and we have another bad thunderstorm. It will be the greatest wonder if we land at Salonika safely in this wretched boat. I thought that our end was near many times last night. I did not get a bit of sleep.
Tuesday, April 13, 1915.
It is still stormy and pouring with rain, not at all a nice crossing. We did not see Malta; we were too far away, but we were only about two miles from Sicily. We have been playing bridge nearly all day.
Wednesday, April 14, 1915.
A fine day and the wind has gone down. Four of our unit have been ill, owing to the bad food (two of them fainted and were in great pain), and several in the other units. We expect to get to Salonika on Thursday, midday. We have just passed Belopulo; we shall be passing Andros and Tinos. To-night we are all to appear in fancy dress. I am going as a mattress, a pillow arranged on my head, pillows stuffed inside a mattress ticking, and my feet coming through at the bottom with bed-socks on. The time has altered; we are 1-½ hours in advance of England. It is light at 4.30 in the morning, but dark soon after 6 o'clock. We had a swallow following our boat most of yesterday.
The fancy dress was a great success; it was really splendid, as none of us had many things with us, as we are all in uniform. Mr. Claude Askew was very amusing, introducing us as Mrs. Jarley's waxworks.
Thursday, April 15, 1915.
It was a rough and very cold night again. I slept in the lifeboat part of the night, but had to get on deck at 2 o'clock as it was so cold and rough. We get to Salonika about 1 o'clock. We have just passed Mount Olympus; it looks glorious with the sun on it and snow-capped. I heard the guns in the night—from Smyrna, I suppose. The engineer took me down to see the engines last night. It is a good thing for us that we have had a rough crossing. We should have been caught by submarines if we had not, owing to the cargo we are carrying; it is supposed to be coal.
We are only forty miles from Salonika; we expect to arrive at 1 o'clock. We telegraphed for rooms at the hotel from Gibraltar. We expect to stay in Salonika a week, as we have to wait for the stores. We are all such a happy party, and all the units on board have been so friendly.
A Greek boat told us that there had been a big battle at the Dardanelles yesterday, but the result was not known. We have no wireless on this boat. The sunrise was gorgeous this morning; it is much finer to-day. I shall post this directly I arrive at Salonika. It is dreadful not having any news from home. I cannot hear anything for a month. We shall not be able to send our permanent address for some time yet.
The most dangerous part of our journey was the forty-eight hours through the Irish Sea. It is interesting to know that the boat has gone 1,000,000 revolutions to Salonika from Liverpool, and a revolution is 25 feet. As we got into the harbour at Salonika there was a vessel called the Athena; it belongs to the Germans. We arrived at Salonika at 2 o'clock; we had to anchor outside. The doctor, the English Consul, and the head of the police came on board. Twenty-three little boats arrived to take us across; the men simply fought, and we had quite a difficulty. We found we could not get accommodation at the hotel sufficient for our unit, so the captain told us to sleep on board. We had our tea and dinner at the Hotel Olympus. The latter meal the captain of the Saidieh had with us. We returned to the boat at 10 o'clock.
Friday, April 16, 1915.
The Torcello arrived with all our equipments at the same time our boat arrived. Salonika is the most picturesque place; it is so hot, just like midsummer in England. The yachts sailing about in the harbour are lovely. There is a wreckage just near. It is April 7 there, and in England it is the 15th.
After breakfast we took a carriage and went to St. Demetrius, the Greek Church. It is perfectly gorgeous. Large marble pillars and granite supposed to be extinct. The arches are wonderful and all inlaid with mosaic. Then we saw sarcophagus or some of the remains dating back to 136. The pictures all round are gorgeous, very bright colours. Many people came to pray. One little family went into a corner where there was a picture of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the serpent was up a tree. They prayed at this picture, then kissed each figure; they crossed the altar, and kissed each figure in the other pictures. Then we went to the Church Sophia, another Greek one. We saw many more people praying and kissing the figures in the pictures and crossing themselves. The Baptistery in St. Demetrius was wonderful; there was a wonderful shell-like font under a massive stone canopy. A little distance away there was a huge bell under an arch. We then went into another church which was being restored. On approaching we could smell nothing but disinfectant; we thought this strange. The interior of the church was beautifully arched. We had not been in the church long when we found that the floor was a mass of fleas and that all of us were covered. We went into a courtyard and caught hundreds; women and children helped. We were in a most uncomfortable condition. Most of the houses are full of them, and also other livestock. One can see the fleas jumping in the sand in the streets.
Some of the churches are full of Greek refugees from Asia Minor.
Saturday, April 17, 1915.
We went to see the French Hospital. An English nun took us over. We also went to see the soup kitchens, and at 12 o'clock one hundred of the refugees came with tickets for soup. We helped to serve it out to them; it was most interesting. All of them wanted more than their share. After we met the remainder of our unit, which had just arrived by the Lotos; they came overland to Marseilles, then by steamer. They had all had the most delightful time, stopping at most of the ports. We envied them after our ghastly journey. Dr. Dearmer and several others of the party and I went into the town, then to St. Nicholas, a church full of refugees—a sight I shall never forget; each family had been allotted a corner, and they just sit on a mat. One family was busy at lunch; they had one large bowl of soup in the centre of the mat, and they all sat round; father, mother and three children each had a spoon, and they all ate out of the same bowl. This seems to be the custom in the poorer quarters in Greece and Serbia. There were several little babies only a day or two old done up like brown-paper parcels.
In the afternoon we went to see where Abdul Hamid was imprisoned. He was allowed eighteen wives. He abdicated. The Germans threatened to rescue him, so high walls were built all round so that aircraft could not get near. After eighteen months he was told he might leave the country, otherwise be shot, so he went to Asia Minor, and now the house is used for military purposes.
We had Communion Service, which Dr. Dearmer conducted at 8.30. Then went to Turkish town, which is most interesting. We then went to the Greek military prison. Then to the Turkish Church. Before entering the church we had to remove our shoes; the floor was covered with squares of carpet. In the afternoon we went to St. Demetrius and saw a christening—most interesting. The priest first covered the baby, which was naked, with oil—head, eyes, cheeks, ears, body, legs, feet, back; then the mother poured a handful of oil over the baby's head. Then the priest took the babe and put it into a font of oil and water which completely covered it; then the baby was again crossed with oil, using a brush this time and taking the oil out of a bottle; then the babe was put into a piece of flannel into the mother's arms. She held two candles, one in each hand, and the priest took incense, which he swung backwards and forwards, and then went twice round the font. Then he read and kissed the book, and the woman kissed it twice, and the ceremony was finished.
We then went to the Greek cemetery, and saw where all the soldiers were buried in the last war. The Turkish cemetery was near by. We saw another large barracks and the Greek Military Hospital.
Monday, April 19, 1915.
We were shopping all morning, getting ready for our departure for Kragujevatz to-morrow, Tuesday. We leave soon after 7 o'clock. This afternoon we went with Mrs. Stobart as far as the tram went, then we walked to the beach. We were a party of twenty-four; we all had tea and then paddled and came home. I have just finished packing for Serbia.
Tuesday, April 20, 1915.
Got up at 6 o'clock, went to Hotel Splendide for breakfast; then we all marched behind a funny old cart, which had our luggage, to the station. I had a tin of honey, fifty-six pounds, which I bought at Salonika; the tin cracked and it began to run out; a cork came out of a paraffin bottle, and this began to run; then the luggage kept taking flying leaps off the cart: we had to keep running after it, to put it back: the man went on, never stopping for any catastrophe. When we landed at the station we had the time of our life, such a scuffle and rush to get into the train. Only twelve of us left to-day, and the other thirty-six follow us on Thursday. All the unit saw us off. The train left at 9.15; it was to have left at 8.
The smell of formalin in the train was very strong, and all of us were covered with paraffin, so the two smells together were not very delightful! Besides this, some of us had carbon balls and camphor in our pockets.
It took us about half an hour to get out of Greece. The country all along is simply wonderful; the most glorious scenery, hills, rocks and valleys, with the most gorgeous colourings. All along we saw herons, storks and eagles, vultures, magpies and jackdaws. All these birds are most plentiful and very tame. All the carts are pulled by buffalo oxen and donkeys. Most of the sheep are black; also the pigs and goats.
The train first stopped at Topsin, then at Amatovar and then Karasuli; these are all the Greek stations we passed. The first Serbian station we stopped at one and a half hours. It was at Ghevgheli. There were many Austrian prisoners and Serbian soldiers on the platform. The Serbians looked very tired, and their clothes were very shabby. They are very badly shod, only a kind of moccasin on their feet. A good many of the Serbians have khaki clothes, but it seems that they have been given by the English. On lots of the house-tops and chimney-tops the herons have built their nests; this was most interesting to see. A great many of the soldiers have lambs following them about like dogs. They are so pretty.
Eight lovely peacocks were on the platform, and they kept walking under the train; also one or two white guinea-fowls. We saw no end of tortoises all along the line, and we got one and brought it into the carriage, but we had to put it out again as we had no green stuff to feed it on. All the lakes and reservoirs are full of bull frogs; these make a tremendous noise just like a lot of ducks quacking. The trees in this part of the country are quite small ones, and there are no hedges; the blossom on the trees is perfectly lovely. We watched the butter being made from goat's milk, and very good it is. Most of the work in the fields is done by women and oxen, and the women look very picturesque in their different coloured garments. We had lovely flowers all the way, especially poppies. We kept passing swamps, full of different grasses. The mountains are wonderful, covered with snow, and we hear that when some of the snow melts dead bodies are found underneath. We crossed over the bridges which were blown up three weeks ago by the Bulgarians; we came through a wonderful tunnel cut in the rocks, and we passed no end of churchyards, where the men are buried in the different battles—Turks, Serbians, and Bulgarians—it is really pitiful to see them. We are guarded by soldiers all along the lines and on the trains. We passed lots of rows of little crosses where all the women, children and men were buried after the Bulgarian raid a week ago. A rope was put round their necks and they were hung up on trees to die. All the soldiers come and salute us at each station and along the line. They all look so sad. Uskub we stopped at 7 o'clock, and we were met by Sir Ralph Paget. We had dinner at the station: soup floating with grease and omelet as tough as leather; the bread was almost black and very sour. The room was very dirty, and many men were sprinkling disinfectants about. This amused me very much. We slept in the train.
We got up before 6 o'clock; had breakfast. It is much colder, and we are very near snow-clad mountains. We got to Nish at 8 and had two hours to wait. We were met by the Serbian Minister and doctor, and taken in a funny little carriage to the Reserve Hospital, where we washed.
This was the Hospital which contained 1,500 Serbian wounded when it fell into the hands of the Bulgarians. We then had breakfast—bread, raw bacon and eggs; not good; but we must be thankful for anything in these bad times. The beds in the wards are several planks of wood, with straw mattress and pillows—quite clean. The women are not a bad-looking race. The minister showed us a terrible photograph he had taken of women and children hanging from trees, where the Bulgarians had strung them up. Two units we left at Nish; one is coming in a few days to Kragujevatz, the other to Belgrade. We drove back to the station; impossible to walk; the mud is eight or ten inches deep.
We slept in the train, three in a compartment, and none of us got bitten. We first cleaned all the carriages out with paraffin. We passed through vineyards and maize-fields. The women do the ploughing with the oxen. There are hundreds of wounded Austrians everywhere to be seen. On arriving at Kragujevatz we were met by doctors and officers, and were taken out to dinner. Four carriages, two horses to each carriage, a most quaint turn-out. The horses seem to fly along, and the roads are in the most awful condition; it was all we could do to prevent ourselves being pitched out.
We first went to the sanitary department and were introduced round, and then we all washed our hands in disinfectants, and were taken on to the Prince's Palace; it is now turned into a dining club for officers. We had a big dinner, starting with very fine Russian caviare. The dinner lasted until 10 o'clock. We then returned to the station and stayed the night in the train. One vanload of luggage had not then arrived, and it was too late to pitch tents. The bull-frogs were singing all night. When a Serbian introduces his wife, he says, "Excuse me, but may I introduce my wife?" When a party is given, the wife never appears at table. They must think it strange that our women are treated so differently.
Friday, April 23, 1915.
Mrs. Stobart has been with some of the officers to find a site for the Hospital; it is right at the top of the hill, and before the war started it was a race-course, and it was also used for sports. We spent the afternoon putting up the tents. The custom in Serbia is, when a death occurs, they put out a black flag for six days or more, and it was sad to see two or three dozen flags all along the town. We have been hard at work all day putting away stores.
The officers are most kind; they invited us to dinner, but we were all too busy to go, so they sent us a lovely dinner to the tents—some fried fish, a stew of beef, and a small lamb roasted whole, and a salad. One of the Government officials joined us.
Sunday, April 25, 1915.
We had a service at 8.30 a.m., which Dr. Dearmer conducted, and he conducted another service at 2.30 and 5.30. Several of the nurses and officers came from other hospitals. The weather is very hot, but the nights cold. We hear the owls, nightingales and cuckoo all night. Several of our staff are ill. I have delightful people to work with, and we are very comfortable. Four of us in a big tent. They call me the "Little Mother," but my general name is Cookie. The Government officials all call me Miss Cookie.
We have now started getting up at 4.30, breakfast at 5. We have had to put on our summer clothes as it is very hot. I bought five lambs to-day, 15 dinas each. They eat the meat the same day it is killed. The small lambs and pigs are cooked whole. Forty wounded arrived to day; they all had a bath with disinfectant in, and then put on clean clothes, their own baked and tied up and put away with their names on. Some of the wounded look very ill, but this place will soon do them good. It makes us very happy to see them improving.
Tuesday, April 27, 1915.
More wounded are to arrive to-day. We are to have surgical cases. When the fighting starts our Field Hospital is to move on with the army. We get quite used to getting up early. We are up at 4.30 and to bed at 9 o'clock; it saves lights. I sleep outside the tent, and many of the others do likewise. It is perfectly lovely. I shall never want to sleep in again.
The sun is glorious, rising above the mountain-tops. We are getting quite used to the noises at night. We have the nightingales, one singing against the other; the owls calling out; big black crickets, which live in holes in the ground all over our camp and fields, making their funny noise. Then there are fireflies, which at first I thought were searchlights, as they were so very bright; cocks are crowing all round at the various farms; stray dogs, which seem almost wild, visit the camp at night and try to get into the kitchens to the stores, and occasionally they will start barking and howling; in ponds near are frogs croaking.
My staff are so nice, it makes work so much easier. I went into Kragujevatz to-day to do some shopping. None of us are allowed to go on account of typhus, but there is not much fear when one takes precautions. The shops are quite nice and the shoes and clothes quaint. Singer's sewing machines are seen everywhere; also Sunlight soap, Colman's mustard, Peak Frean's biscuits, Peter's milk chocolate. These things remind us of home. Rice, haricot beans and prunes are very plentiful, and they form some of the chief articles of diet.
The wagons are drawn by oxen; they only do twenty miles a day. They are magnificent beasts and are well cared for. We have bought two of them and have called them Derry & Toms, as Derry & Toms gave us two or three of their carts to bring out here.
We have had six officers dining with us to-day. The heat is terrific. I can't imagine what it will be in June. The Serbian food is very funny, but good. For breakfast they have a kind of bread-pudding; they call it our "English" bread-pudding, but the Serbian name is "Popiri." You put bread cut into dice into boiling water, with salt and fat; they beat it all together and serve. They like it so much and do not care for anything else; for a change they have stewed prunes and bread. They drink tea or coffee and the ones on special diet have eggs.
Sunday, May 2, 1915.
We have so much work here we seldom know the day or the date. We have just had tent drill, as we may move on soon, then we shall have to pull down our tents ourselves. We have lost several of our stores coming out: all the bacon and lots of other things. Some of the men look dreadful and half starved; they seem to like our food. I have five Austrian prisoners working for me. It is difficult to get much work out of them, as they say, "No pay, no work"; but I said then there will be no food, and now they cannot do enough for us; they are not bad on the whole. I have a funny man who buys for me in the market. He is too fat to fight, and he is always telling me, with his arms in the air, that he works only for me. We slept outside on our camp beds last night; it began to rain and the night nurses had to carry us in. It is lovely to see how the wounded enjoy this camp life; they are so happy. When they arrive they have a paraffin bath and their clothes baked. We brought a lot of clothes with us from England. Four officers came to see us this morning, and they lent us their horses for half an hour for us to ride. I am to go next time.
Mrs. Stobart and part of the unit going out to Serbia on the Saidieh, having Swedish drill.
Hospital at Nish. When captured by the Bulgarians, contained 1,500 patients.
Face page 32
One of the doctors and I went for a lovely evening walk; the frogs were singing to each other, quite a different noise to what we heard before. This morning I took all my kitchen orderlies to have a bath, five of them.
Mrs. Stobart took our photos and I gave the men their new clothes. I managed to get them each a blanket and they were all very happy. They built themselves a hut to sleep in. They are all Austrian prisoners.
Monday, May 3, 1915.
A Dispensary has been started on the road side near our Field Hospital, and people are coming for miles to get medicine and advice. There are many cases of diphtheria, typhoid, typhus, scarlet fever, consumption and other diseases. The civil population are suffering terribly on account of the war; they have been so neglected. One girl walked twenty miles to get medicine for her father, mother, sister and brother who were all down with typhus. A number of the patients come in ox carts and they travel all right; it is wonderful how quickly they have got to hear of the Dispensary. Mrs. Stobart has decided to open many more.
Thursday, May 6, 1915.
This has been a great festival for the Serbians—St. George's Day—they keep it as a holiday. We had two of the officers to dinner, and a bonfire at 8 o'clock, and we all danced and sang; quite a good evening. The wounded quite enjoyed themselves.
Friday, May 7, 1915.
I went for a walk with two of the doctors to a cemetery near here. There are thousands of little wooden crosses where the Serbians fell in the last battle, also for those who died from typhus. The Austrian prisoners are digging rows and rows of new graves. The dead are not buried in coffins; there are several empty coffins lying about.
Many of the crosses have several numbers, so many are buried in the same grave, four and six. Our Dispensaries are getting on splendidly; some of the patients walked forty miles; one can scarcely believe it. We feed all those that come a long distance. We had over 100 patients to-day. I bought in the market to-day ten sheep, six turkeys, five geese and nine ducks. We eat two and three lambs just for the staff at one meal; they are very small.
I was up just after 4 this morning. Mrs. Stobart and three Serbian officials went off to find another site for a Dispensary. Colonel Harrison, our English Military Attaché, has been to dinner. I gave them boiled turkey and white sauce and macaroni. Turkeys are cheap; I got six for 57 dinas, and you get 36 dinas for a sovereign. After dinner Colonel Harrison gave us some very good records on his gramaphone. Our gramaphone has been lost.
The Austrians are still shelling Belgrade. One of my five Austrian orderlies gives me a lot of trouble. He goes off sometimes for three or four hours to get drink, so I had to report him; he has had his ears well boxed in front of me by the sergeant. If he had struck the sergeant back he would have been shot.
We have several wounded Austrians and one German. When the German is spoken to he always stands at attention; he is really a nice man!
The camp is quite a swamp. I got up at 4.30 and went to market with Mr. Greenhalgh. The market did not open till late, so we went into a café which was not at all nice; beetles were running about on the tables and floor. I sat with my feet tucked under me.
A lot of young wounded soldiers sat drinking whisky; it is only a penny for a little decanter out of which they drink. Other people had Russian coffee with a glass of cold water.
I am very troubled with dogs and cats; they get into the kitchen and steal the food. I have stopped the dogs getting in, but the cats I cannot keep out.
The wild flowers are very beautiful; we have different kinds gathered for the wards and for the tables; they are much finer than ours. I cannot get out much, I am so tired when off duty.
Monday, May 17, 1915.
One of my cooks has a revolver, and early this morning she was unloading it when it went off and hit me on the arm; fortunately it was not serious. The shot went through her box, then a thick pocket book, and thence into a tea caddy, where it remained. It was really very terrifying. A Russian and French Military Attaché came in this afternoon.
We have ten hospital tents and each one holds ten patients, and as they are all full more tents have to be put up. At 9 o'clock this evening a very bad case of typhus arrived in an ox cart—a poor soldier who was just on leave. His old mother and father came with him; they were to sleep under the cart, and as the ground was inches thick with mud, we got them bundles of straw; we also gave them hot coffee and bread. One sees some sad sights.
I went again to the market; it is very picturesque. Some of the gipsy women are very handsome and their costumes charming. Most of the materials for their dresses and aprons are homespun. The different shades of reds, blues, yellow and green are lovely, they all tone so well. We are just on 200 at the camp now, but the numbers never worry me. We bought cheese and great rolls of sausages in the market. My store tent is almost under water. I have had to put down bricks and planks and have a trench dug through the centre. We are told we shall have it wet for three weeks. The rain comes down in torrents, much heavier than in England. The patients are all looking so much better and much fatter. I have bought two large copper boilers for soup; one cost 123 dinas and the other 77 dinas, but I should think they would last for ever. I have had a brick wall set round them and a flue at the back and a grate underneath. We only cook with wood; it is really very excellent as it retains the heat so long, and really I like it better than coal. But at first the smoke made us all cry until I got the stoves properly set.
Tuesday, May 18, 1915.
We have had an exciting day as the Prince Alexandra of Serbia was expected to see our Field Hospital. He and his suite arrived on horseback. The Prince is the most delightful man, so very friendly and easy to get on with. Mrs. Stobart presented me. He was much interested in the kitchen departments, and shook hands with me three times. He seemed delighted and interested in all the hospitals. A Field Hospital seems quite a novelty out here. I talked to his horse, a charming creature called "Sugar."
Dr. May returns to London to-morrow to bring out new equipments, as we are to have six more Dispensaries and a Civil Hospital. I have been doing out lists for new stores all morning.
I am having a lovely Serbian dress given me. I made some good Serbian cheese to-day; it is quite easy to make and it is really nice. I wish friends would send me newspapers; they would be very welcome. I picked up a cannon ball and horseshoe to add to my treasures. We had another bad storm; the rain drops are as large as a 2s. piece. It is really amusing when it gets windy as every one rushes to their tent to tighten their guy ropes, and when it has been raining some little time they have to be loosened. In the night it is not so pleasant turning out of a nice comfortable bed. But for all this camp life is very delightful.
The Serbians have been at war for the last four years. They fought first against Turkey, then against Bulgaria, and twice against Austria-Hungary.
Valievo was in the hands of the Austrians at the beginning of December, 1914. Then the Austrians captured Belgrade where they remained for thirteen days. On December 15 Belgrade was recaptured by the Serbians. Of the army of 300,000 who crossed the Save River, nearly half was put out of action. More than 41,500 prisoners were taken together with 133 guns, 71 maxims, 386 ammunition wagons, 3,350 transport wagons, and more than 3,250 horses and oxen. The dead and wounded Austro-Hungarians left on the battlefield exceeded 60,000.
The cannon ball that I told you about that I picked up was used 100 years ago against the Turks; there are no end lying about the fields.
Dr. May returned to England this evening; she will be away about six weeks. She will bring out more stores and will collect fresh funds for the upkeep of our Hospital and Dispensary.
Transport wagons are passing along the road near our camp all night, so perhaps we shall move on shortly. Oxen are used and they only travel about twenty English miles a day.
We have no fresh cases in hospital because there is no fighting at present. There are over one hundred patients at the road-side dispensary; each day some of the cases are terrible—typhus, scarlet fever, diphtheria, and a very bad case of small-pox, but there are no hospitals to send these sort of cases to. To-day a poor girl arrived with one foot black, all the flesh eaten off her leg with gangrene; she had a tubercular foot which she had had a year and it had never been attended to. Women arrive with dreadful diseases, some with cancer.
People in dear old England cannot imagine the state of this part of the world; thousands and thousands are suffering and cannot get attention.
We are now trying to stop some of the dreadful diseases spreading, and are starting another Hospital called the Civil, and this Hospital will take in some of these bad cases. We are also hoping to have the six dispensaries along the line. Our Field Hospital is only for surgical cases.
Another wet day; we had a terrible thunderstorm which returned two nights running; the lightning is much more vivid than in England; in fact it lights up the hills all round and the sky seems to almost open.
To-day is only May 9 with the Serbians; thirteen days difference; it seems so strange.
To-day a man was seen buying Serbian whisky; he gave it to two of the patients and made them drunk. One of my orderlies did the same and was sent away last week. Owing to this one man the whole lot of Austrian orderlies were called into line, twenty-seven in all, and they were marched to the office tent, where Major Partridge talked to them all, boxed the man's ears who bought the whisky and sent him to prison for ten days.
There are three kinds of punishment for prisoners: first, boxing their ears; second, sending to prison for ten days on bread and water and solitary confinement; and third, to shoot them. It makes me quite ill to see the men have their ears boxed. The Serbians seem really good to their prisoners; I hope ours in Germany are being treated as well.
I had a lovely dish of wild strawberries brought me to-day as a present; the strawberries were strung on grasses and they are sold for 1d. a string. I also had a bunch of cherries and some sweets, and this evening two of the Austrian prisoners gave me their prison badges, so I was in luck's way.
All around our camp we have funny round holes. I discovered that black-looking beetles lived down them, but to-night I found they are crickets; they sing all night and are such dears. I dug one out of its hole and put it in the kitchen. We also found some of these funny holes where great large spiders live with hairy legs, and they spin such a nice strong web over their holes. I suppose this is their front door. We have been up to our knees in mud the last few days, and little streams run through our camp, but one gets used to these things; the ground is of hard clay and the water does not disperse quickly unless the sun comes out, then it dries up in quite a short time. This makes us think of our poor soldiers in the trenches.
Sunday, May 23, 1915.
This morning one of the doctors came for me to go and see an operation. It was a poor man who had recovered from typhus, then got frost-bitten toes, and they had fallen off; new skin had to be grafted over the stumps, and it was taken from the thigh. It will be interesting to see how it grows on the foot.
In the afternoon two of the doctors and I went for a long walk. We went about twelve miles right on the top of the highest hill, and from there, a few months back, one could see the battle raging from Belgrade. At the top of these hills we could see great holes where the shells had burst. Wild flowers are gorgeous. The acacia trees are wonderful, much finer than ours. Most of the hedges are acacias. The fields are covered with wild strawberries.
Mrs. Stobart and one of the doctors have gone to Nish till Wednesday morning.
The girl I told you of, who had the gangrene on her leg, had the leg off to-day. We put a little tent up for her; we could not let her go on suffering.
Another terrible day. I have never seen such rain; we are simply flooded; the storm lasted five or six hours.
Mrs. Stobart and the doctor arrived home at 6 o'clock this morning. We shall soon hear when our camp moves on. I cannot continue writing as we have another bad storm. The hailstones were like small marbles. We have now streams running through our camp.
This evening we had several of the officers to dinner, and Colonel Harrison's gramaphone after.
We hear that the Italian Military Attaché arrived here to-day, and that fighting round about here will start in ten days. This morning it was interesting to see the transport wagons pass on their way to Belgrade.
This evening, while I was waiting for the last whistle to blow for lights out, I went a little walk to see the frogs in some ponds near by; in one pond they were singing in a high key—I suppose they must have had soprano voices—and in another pond they were croaking as if they had bass voices, and as they made this quaint noise their jaws swelled out to a tremendous size. They came to the edge of the pond to see who I was and seemed to say, What are you doing here! The light from the hurricane lamp must have attracted them. The crickets are also singing everywhere; we can see their holes all over the hills. They work their wings together to make their quaint noise. And the cuckoo was also singing. With all these different noises it was quite an entertainment.
Friday, May 28, 1915.
Got up at 4.15 a.m. and went to market. I bought one sheep, some beef, five ducks, six kilos of sausages, 200 eggs, some carrots and peas. The sheep I gave 20 dinas for, and as 35 dinas go to the £1 it is not much. Ducks vary from 1-½ to 3 dinas. Eggs were 9 dinas a hundred and very good.
Wild strawberries and cherries are plentiful, but too expensive to buy at present. Market is over at 12. I got back by 9 o'clock. I have a man that looks after all the live stock we buy in the market, and he kills them as they are required for table.
There are three different markets—one for oxen, hay and wood; another for sheep, goats and pigs; and another for eggs, vegetables, cheese and fruits.
The pigs are all different colours, yellow, black, white, elephant colour. They are very tame, as they are made into pets and many of the little ones live in the houses.
On the way to the sheep market we saw a lot of guns, officers and transport going to Bosnia. The officers' horses had wreaths of roses round their necks; it is the usual custom, and the officers are presented with a bouquet.
There has been a scarcity of sugar in Kragujevatz for about two weeks; the other day they managed to get about 20,000 kilos, and at the shop it was being sold there was quite a raid. It was sold for 1s. 6d. per lb. There is no butter to be got; it cannot be made with the milk on account of typhus; the milk has to be boiled directly it comes in; it never tastes or smells nice. It costs 5d. per litre.
Mrs. Stobart has had a lovely bell given her by the Serbian Government. It has Mrs. Stobart's Hospital on it in English, and the Serbian crest. We only had a little goat's bell to ring to bring people to meals.
To-day I had one of the Army Medical Corps Field Trenches dug, and it was most successful. We do not require it for cooking, but Mrs. Stobart wanted one made as they may be required at the Dispensaries. I have already four lovely stoves with fine ovens and two large stewpans with wood fire under them. The pans are of copper. We have portable boilers for the hot water, which are most excellent; and Serbians have been to take the measurements of the boilers and stoves so that they can have some made like them.
Just been to help one of the doctors by holding a patient's arm while it was lanced for an abscess. I constantly regret that I was not trained to be a doctor. I am most interested in seeing operations, as one always has the satisfaction in knowing that the patients will soon be relieved from their sufferings.
Sir Thomas Lipton arrived for 8 o'clock breakfast this morning. He had with him the Daily Chronicle, Times, and one or two other reporters. Two or three Serbian officers also came with him. Mrs. Stobart had been down to meet the train from Uskab at 5 a.m.
We had a very big party in the evening. Sir Thomas Lipton and many of the officers came to dinner, and afterwards a concert of forty musicians. The convalescent patients thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
We were all overjoyed after our guests had left to hear that our letters, which were a month overdue from England, had arrived.
I had nineteen letters, three papers and a book. I stayed up nearly all night reading them.
The sheep I bought the other day for 20 dinas is a great pet, just like a dog and follows us everywhere. We call it our mascot. It has a great blue ribbon bow round its neck which one of the nurses gave it.
To-day our sergeant, who helps with secretarial work, has typhus. He has been sent to the Scottish Fever Hospital. He is such a nice man and has been with us ever since we arrived at the camp.
We had another terrible storm. I never saw such rain; if one is out you are soaked through in a minute.
Several of our members have high temperatures to-day; they have been isolated.
I have been to an operation this afternoon. It was to see a toe removed and two web fingers cut. I am really proud of our women surgeons. They are really excellent and so quick.
Friday, June 4, 1915.
We are still paddling about, up to our ankles. Two more members of our staff are in bed with high temperatures. We hope it is only malaria. Two of the Serbian Army Medical Corps came to see our camp.
Mrs. Stobart is still in bed with high temperature. I have to take all my staff's temperatures every morning and report to the doctors.
Two of Dr. Berry's unit have come to stay in this camp for a few days. Our six staff invalids are going on well, but they all ask for different kinds of food which is somewhat trying.
Lady Lethbridge is posting this for me.
We do not know what this fever is. Some of our staff and the doctors are beginning to think it is typhoid, but the temperature charts are most curious, not a bit like the ordinary typhoid.
I have felt unhappy to-day for our sanitary inspector has put disinfectants in all the ponds on the camp as the water was getting stagnant, and all the happy little frogs are suffering. Thirteen ducks from the farm near by have been to drink the poisoned water, and they have just run down to the kitchen gasping and their eyes nearly out of their heads. They have been given bowls of water and it seems as though they would never stop drinking. It has taken quite six hours for them to recover from the chloride of lime and water.
We had service at 5.30 a.m. in the mess tent. Two ducks walked in during the service. They made a great noise, and after the service we found that they had laid an egg just outside the tent. We had another service at 10 and another at 4 o'clock, but the ducks this time did not visit us.
My pet sheep had to be sent away, as it loved having its afternoon nap in the other tents. I did not mind it as I had disinfected it, and it was beautifully white and so clean; it was a great pet. I call it Sir Thomas. It was killed for dinner, and I went without meat for several days. It had grown so fat, and it was the best piece of meat we had in the camp. It was most painful doing the carving.
Tuesday, June 8, 1915.
We had five visitors to-day, four doctors and Lady Lethbridge. We again had turkey. This is quite a common dish in Serbia, and they are so cheap, only 7 dinas each; some are 5 dinas. Many of our units are down with fever; it makes us very busy.
Wednesday, June 9, 1915.
To-day Dr. Dearmer and two of my kitchen staff and I went for a lovely motor ride as we have been too tired to go for walks, and Mr. Black took us in his car. We started at 2 o'clock and got back at 6. The weather is very hot, and in some of the tents the temperature is 110°.
At 3.30 this morning I was awakened by a gun being fired; I did not think anything of this, as one gets so used to the noise of guns. At 4.30 I dressed and went to inquire what the patients were going to have for breakfast, and when one of the nurses and I were standing talking we heard a great explosion. I knew at once that it was a bomb, as I had experienced the same thing in Antwerp. We then heard, as we thought, the Marconi working, and we looked above us and saw it was a German aeroplane. Then we saw another German aeroplane, and then two Austrian ones. We knew at once they were attacking Kragujevatz. They began dropping bombs first near the arsenal, which did not, fortunately, do any damage; then one near the King's Palace, which did no harm but battered several shops and made holes in the walls of the cathedral. The bomb fell in the middle of the road. Many windows were broken in the cathedral. Another bomb fell in a cottage and killed a girl of fourteen who had only been in Kragujevatz three days; her parents had sent her from Belgrade as she was so afraid of the raids there. Sixteen people were injured and five killed. Then they came over our camp, a splendid target for them as the Marconi is only 150 yards away. The next bomb dropped was about 150 yards from our camp. The smoke was terrible; I felt sure some of us would be the next victims. Most of our unit turned out in their night attire. I was glad that I was presentable. The next bomb dropped was about 110 yards and the pieces were scattered all round the mess tent and the kitchen. One of the doctors came hurrying along and called for me to pick up some pieces of shrapnel, but as we got to the spot we found a poor woman had been struck. Her arm was quite a pulp; I do not think she will recover.
I got about fourteen pieces of shrapnel, a piece of the hanger-propeller and the fuse. Lots of trees were struck and I got a piece of shrapnel out of the bark. A wireless was sent from here and one of the aeroplanes was brought down.
There has never been a raid on Kragujevatz before. All the guards round our camp fired their rifles, but there were no air-craft guns fired. We have not got large guns round us as there had never been a raid on Kragujevatz before.
Another poor woman was brought in wounded about 11 o'clock. She had a little baby which was not hurt; she was struck on the leg. The baby is exactly like a little old man, and it only weighs 6-½ lbs. and is a year old; its bones are coming nearly out of its flesh.
Some of our staff who have fever are very ill, and some delirious. Mrs. Stobart is much better.
Dr. Dearmer is going to Salonika. He is meeting some fresh members for our unit, they are due on June 18. A Civil Hospital and some Dispensaries are to be started. They will be branches of this one. The pontoon bridges and the regiments pass our camp every day. The weather is terribly hot.
We have started to use our mosquito nets. I had an arrow given me yesterday by a French aviator, one of the kind they throw out of the aeroplanes; and I have had a very nice Turkish dress given me.
Letters come from England very well now; they take about thirteen days.
Our convalescents sing and play at nights; some of them have very good voices. Their songs were generally battle songs, and relate to their friends who had fallen in the war. They are very clever in making their instruments—flutes, violins—which are excellent.
Just heard that some more aeroplanes have been seen but they have been stopped coming over here. The Serbian Government think that they tried to drop the bombs on our camp; we can be sighted miles away.
Friday, June 11, 1915.
Eleven of our staff are down with fever; it is getting quite serious. The strange part of it is the doctors cannot yet discover what the fever is.
We have 125 patients in the hospital, thirty-seven soldiers as orderlies, Austrians and Serbs, and fifty-nine of our own staff.
It was very funny the other day. Two large eagles were seen flying very high. They were taken for aeroplanes, and were immediately fired upon. The Serbians are quite ready for air raids, as we have some splendid air-craft guns placed in excellent positions.
Sunday, June 13, 1915.
The weather is very hot. I have never experienced anything like it, quite tropical. One of our doctors has been taken ill to-day; that makes twelve of our staff down with fever.
Mrs. Dearmer has been taken ill. Mrs. Stobart, a doctor and I had a conference about the disease. It was pronounced by the doctor to be typhoid. One doctor stated that it was due to flies; but this point was condemned, as the flies have only become plentiful the last week. It was suggested that it might be raw salad; but this was again knocked on the head, as no raw salad has been eaten for about three weeks, and then it was washed in distilled water and vinegar, and several of the fever patients never ate salad. The last suggestion was the camp itself. This is the most probable, as before we arrived this camp was covered with refugees from all parts; and with the very dry weather, and then the heavy rains, most of the doctors think it is due to this. Some of the cases have been pretty bad in spite of the inoculation. Temperatures are 104.8 and several are delirious. Fortunately none of the wounded have it.
We have had a terrible hurricane to-day, and a bad thunderstorm. Two tents were blown down. The hailstones were as big as large marbles.
I was taken bad to-day with gastritis. Dr. Atkinson is attending me. I hope to be up in a few days. It is due to overstrain of the nerves. We have sent for five more nurses to come and help us. I have a lot to be thankful for that I have not got typhoid.
Wednesday, June 16, 1915.
Mrs. Stobart is about again.
Prince Alexis came to see our camp this evening. I feel a little better.
This has been a funny day, one that we shall never forget. At 6.30 a telephone message came up from the Government Office that we were going to have an aerial raid, and that we had better clear our camp. Twenty aeroplanes were expected, six were to throw bombs on Kragujevatz, and the others were going on to the Danube. All the patients had to be taken by one road and the staff by another, and they had to go about half a mile from the camp. Two oxen were put into one of Derry & Tom's carts, and patients who could not walk were put in, and these were the first to leave. Then the motors came round for the staff that could not walk. Dr. May Atkinson did not want me to go; however, Mrs. Stobart insisted, and I was the last of the poor victims to be carted away. I was put on a stretcher and jolted down the road for half a mile with the other members of the unit, and we were plumped down on the roadside while others were fetched, and this went on until the camp was actually cleared. This was at 6.30 and the aeroplanes were expected at 8.
No aeroplanes came after all this excitement. Some kind member of the unit managed to get me some bovril, as I was not allowed solid food. At about 10.30 breakfast was sent up, boiled eggs and some cheese. I expect this was thought a suitable diet for a patient suffering from a high temperature.
The army camp near was also cleared of its soldiers and oxen. At 11.30 a message came that we could return to our camp as the flight had been stopped, and that one of the aeroplanes had been brought down by the French and Italians.
I have five Austrian orderlies; their names are—Mike, Mick, Peet, Steve and Milko; they are really splendid, and so willing. They are all so sorry I am ill, and they all come round to see me and wanted to know if I was "too much sick." Mike works harder than ever, and says "Missis ill, Mike work hard, Mike good boy."
Friday, June 18, 1915.
I have been in bed all day but am feeling better. It is very hot again. Four nurses from the Farmer's unit at Belgrade arrived to help us; two from the Scotch Hospital came on Wednesday, and four have come from another unit, so we shall no longer be single-handed.
All the staff who have typhoid are getting on nicely.
I am allowed up for a little this afternoon, so to-morrow I hope to be about again.
Two great guns have been brought up near this camp. Two of the patients are about again. Dr. Atkinson will not let me go back to work again until my temperature has been normal for forty-eight hours. The work is very hard and there is no end to it. I hear we are to be sent for a few days' rest to another unit. We constantly have members of other units coming over for two or three days' rest here; it is so nice being friendly with all the other different units out here.
Dr. Dearmer has gone to Salonika to fetch the members of the new unit; they arrive to-morrow.
We have heard that the Saidieh has been torpedoed, and seven of the crew are lost. The Germans have been after this boat for a long time. We should have been torpedoed coming out if it had not been for the rough weather and the sea-fog on Easter Sunday.
The Saidieh had just returned to England under sealed orders by the Government. I am thankful that our nice captain was saved—John Reginald Ryall. We are anxious to hear about the chief officer and chief engineer.
I have a Serbian to take my place while I am away from work in the patients' kitchen; he is a splendid cook. He amuses us with his moustache; he keeps it pressed in a frame in the early morning. I think if it got burnt with his cooking it would be the death of him.
We started working this camp two months ago this Friday. We hear that Dr. May left England on the 18th with a fresh unit.
The baby belonging to the poor woman who was wounded by shrapnel died this morning; it is a blessing as the poor little thing had been so neglected. But the dear nurse that was looking after the baby was heartbroken. We called her Copper Nob, because she had such lovely red hair.
Most of the wounded soldiers have quite lost their nerve. When they hear that aeroplanes are coming they are quite panic-struck. We were to have had practice this morning with balloons; one man fled.
We have such a number of hooded crows here, and some birds called golden oriole.
Monday, June 21, 1915.
Nothing of interest has happened this evening. We still have crowds of visitors every day to see the camp.
Tuesday, June 22, 1915.
I am still not allowed out of my tent. I just feel like a naughty child who has been sent to her room. My temperature will not be obedient and go to its normal condition. To-day three of our unit who have been ill have gone for a few days to Vrynatchka Banja to Dr. Berry's unit. When they return the doctors want me to go. We are just in the midst of another bad storm.
Two of the second Farmer's unit have come to see our Field Hospital to-day; they are from Pojeropatz. We have the most ghastly thunderstorm every evening; the lightning scarcely ever ceases now; the thunder generally lasts about two hours; the rain comes down in pailfuls.
Thursday, June 24, 1915.
We have The Times Correspondent, a Mr. Robinson, staying here. It is interesting in the evening to see the little fireflies flying about all round the camps; they seem to be more and more each night.
Friday, June 25, 1915.
I am still in the doctor's hands, and am not allowed to work owing to my having a temperature. I have been in my tent nearly two weeks but am almost better. I am to be sent for four or five days' change to Dr. Berry's unit at Vrynatchka Banja. It is almost thirty miles from here, and a glorious place I hear. We shall motor over. No more of our patients have typhoid. Twenty-six of our unit have been ill all together; some have been very serious cases. I have had a greater power of resistance owing to my inoculation; most of those who have had typhoid were inoculated just before coming out here.
Saturday, June 26, 1915.
I have been allowed out to-day. Dr. Dearmer arrived from Salonika yesterday, with two cooks, five nurses and a chauffeur; he went to meet them from England. They are for the roadside dispensaries, so they are staying here for a little time to give us some help. Mrs. Dearmer has been very ill with typhoid.
Sunday, June 27, 1915.
Sir Ralph Paget has been over to see us to-day, also a Mr. Petrovitch. Five of the doctors and my two cooks came over to have tea with me. To-morrow I am going away.
Monday, June 28, 1915.
Three of the doctors have been ill, so we did not get off to Dr. Berry's to-day. We had the most ghastly thunderstorm this evening, lasting two hours, such big hailstones. Dr. Payne, Nurse Berry and Nurse Newhall, Mr. Black and myself had breakfast at 6.15. We took plenty of refreshments with us and left the camp in the motor ambulance for Vrynatchka Banja. It is sixty miles from Kragujevatz. We came through the most gorgeous scenery, and it was so picturesque to see the women and the boys working in the maize fields. The women never wear hats, only coloured handkerchiefs over their heads, and if in mourning the handkerchiefs are black. We had lunch when we got about half way; then another bad storm came on and in a few minutes we could scarcely see in front of us for thick mist. We soon drove through it and came into quite dry ground again. The fields are perfectly wonderful with wild flowers, the most beautiful colours.
The hedges are all acacia trees, and the most lovely wild flowers. Butterflies and beetles are very plentiful. We had only one puncture, and changed the wheel and went on merrily again. We arrived at Vrynatchka Banja at about 2.30. We had a lovely welcome from the members of Dr. Berry's unit; six of them had come out on the Saidieh with us; several of them have been over to see us at our camp. We had tea at 4 o'clock and at 6 we went to a lecture given by Dr. Berry. In the evening we had some music. The other members of our unit which were here when we arrived left at 9 o'clock for Kragujevatz the following morning, leaving us three here for a rest. We saw them off; then Nurse Berry and I went to see the town, leaving Nurse Newhall in bed. This place is simply charming; it is far more beautiful than Kragujevatz, and is one of the fashionable watering places in Serbia. This hospital is very large and we have hot and cold water and electric light. Dr. Berry has several other hospitals besides; they have only 130 patients. This afternoon I went into the large ward for some music with the wounded. We sang and played to them. The wounded are most grateful for all that is done. They call us all "Sistra" and often "Dobra Sistra," which means good sister. The Serbian men look so fragile, with the exception of the higher class, who are mostly fine, strong-looking men. The women are splendid, so handsome and strong looking; they do most of the manual labour. The magnificent courage of the Serbian women will never be forgotten. Some have lost father, brothers, husbands and sons. These women have one simple answer: "Sistra, they died for their country!" Before such patriotism we can but kneel and pray for the simple faith which shall teach each one of us to be brave enough to do the same. Their country, beautiful and fertile like our own, is ravaged; disease, war and famine, yet they still go on. The Austrian prisoners do most of the work; they are such a nice race of men, and so willing, and never mind what they do. They hate warfare. We are all impressed with them. It seems hard that they have to fight against the Serbs. We went for a pretty walk after tea; we all went to bed early.
Thursday, July 1, 1915.
It is just three months to-day since we left home. This morning I went into the kitchen and learnt several Serbian dishes. My two companions were not well, so stayed in bed. I went to see them at 10.30 and found Nurse Berry very flushed. I took her temperature and found it 103°, and her pulse 116°, so I fetched the doctor and she has to stay in bed. I spent this afternoon with Nurse Berry, and this evening we were taken to see the town. We went over two hospitals, then through the park, and to the post to get stamps. The Post Office was closed, but the girl was outside, so she served us; she had not change and trusted us with 2 dinas' worth of stamps, which shows how the Serbs trust the English. The town is very picturesque, such lovely trees everywhere; the shops are very small. I bought some lovely coloured stockings. A man in the hospital has to be operated on for glands and is not allowed food. When it was time for his operation he refused to be done; however, the doctors persuaded him. After the chloroform he was violently sick, and he brought up nothing but red matter. The doctors thought at first it was blood and they thought they had cut a vein. However, it appears the man had gone off and gorged himself with mulberries as he did not like being starved. White and red mulberry trees grow wild over here. I went to see a doctor at Dr. Banks' unit at the Red Cross Hospital for Dr. Dearmer; they told us the story that Dr. Dearmer had written in the English papers about the man who was thought to be dead and was put into his coffin. After the coffin was put into the mortuary the man managed to get out and was found by the nurse back in his bed.
Friday, July 2, 1915.
I have had a most interesting day; I spent part of the morning in the wards, helping with dressings. It is really terrible to see these poor men; most of them have lost their legs and feet; hundreds and hundreds of the men have lost their toes and feet through frost-bite; one poor fellow of only twenty-two has lost both his feet, and often calls me to show me the two stumps. It would be a blessing if some of these poor men had been killed right out, instead of all the suffering they go through. Most of them seem happy, and it is because they won't be able to go and fight again. Nurse Berry and Nurse Newhall have been in bed nearly all day; they are in my care. After lunch I spent the afternoon in the kitchen, learning Serbian cooking; their method of pastry making is perfectly wonderful. They make the flour into a paste with water and fat. Then it is stretched over tables and it is pulled out until it is as thin as paper. This evening I was to have gone into the town, but we made a call on a French lady and a big storm came on and we did not get any further.
Saturday, July 3, 1915.
Dr. and Mrs. Berry went to Kragujevatz in the morning for a conference. We went into the town, did some shopping and had some raspberry drink and cakes at a café; we had a glorious walk back. This afternoon we heard that there was a funeral; then we heard a lot of wailing in the distance, so we put on our things and went to the cemetery. We met the procession of about twenty women with a lot of banners and baskets of food. It seems that the corpse they were mourning for had been dead some time, forty days, so it was just an anniversary. When we arrived at the cemetery the women put the flags against a tree, then knelt down round the grave and began to wail and cry bitterly. Then they lighted candles and put them on the grave. They unpacked the baskets and put plates of food all over the grave—bread, rice, cucumber cut in slices, cherries, little bowls of jam, onions, little glasses of wine and decanters of water. We watched this ceremony for about half an hour. Some of the mourners ate the food and kept kissing the grave. There were no end of mourners at other graves doing the same thing. It was the most pathetic sight I have ever seen, so sad to see the poor things.
Sunday, July 4, 1915.
A very wet day; nothing but rain and thunder. After tea we went down for a sulphur bath. Such a quaint place; it was a round deep hole with running water only about six yards wide; the water was warm. After breakfast we went another walk up to the cemetery. All the food that had been left on the graves on Saturday had been eaten by the women who had been wailing round the graves, with the exception of a few apples and cherries that had been left on the ledges of some of the crosses. We had a lovely walk back through some woods. There are crowds of wild cherry trees laden with cherries, wild mulberries and walnuts. The vine trees are also plentiful and so well trained. The land is fairly well cultivated, considering that all the men are fighting. The women are splendid workers. This afternoon I went again to learn some Serbian dishes. There is such a nice woman here as cook. As soon as she heard I was interested she said she would show me some of their dishes, and Dr. Berry's sister is so good in letting me go down into the kitchen to learn. We have been over most of the hospitals here; really very good, and they are so clean. The park is glorious, but it amused me to see spittoons all along the pathways.
Tuesday, July 6, 1915.
We went shopping this morning and came home through the park. After lunch we rested till 2.30, then went for a picnic as it was one of the nurses' birthdays. We did not go far, only to the top of the hill, but the view round was magnificent, the lights and shades so perfect. Just before we started for our picnic, Mrs. Berry, who had been spending the week-end at our camp, arrived back with one nurse to take me back to the camp. They came by train; Dr. Berry and another of our nurses came by car. We heard some very sad news, and this was that one of the nurses was dead, Nurse Ferris, a strong healthy girl of twenty-five years of age. She was to be married in September. She was taken ill just about a week before me with typhoid. It does not say much for inoculation. Nurse Ferris was a good nurse; she had a bright cheerful manner and was always the same. She knew Serbian better than any one in the camp, and could sing the Serbian anthem. It seems strange that she should have picked up Serbian in this manner and then be put to rest in the country. It seems she died on Sunday afternoon at 3 o'clock. She was taken to the mortuary in the town and then laid to rest on Monday. She had a large military funeral. All the staff from our camp went, all the Government officials and the units from the other hospitals, and all the doctors from these parts who had come over to Kragujevatz for the doctors' conference. They had a band and she was buried near the other nurses who had died from the Scotch Hospital at Kragujevatz. She was only put into a temporary grave as, when the war is over, the Government will erect a monument to all who have died. Dr. Dearmer conducted the service. The last I saw of Nurse Ferris was the night before I came here. I went to have a peep at all our poor invalids. When the poor girl saw me she looked up and smiled and waved to me. I little thought it was the last time I should see her. Nurse Ferris and I always had little jokes together when she came to meals; she was beloved by all in her ward. It seems this is the first English service that has been conducted in a Greek cathedral; the prince gave his consent and sent his secretary.
A child having an abscess removed outside the Operating Theatre.
Lady Cook and Austrian prisoner orderlies at Mrs. Stobart's camp Hospital, Kragujevatz.
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Wednesday, July 7, 1915.
We leave this afternoon at 3 o'clock. This morning I went shopping, bought a lot of handkerchiefs and some Serbian pots. At 2.30 the carriage came to take the two nurses, who had come over to fetch me, and myself to the station. Nurse Newhall came with us, and Mrs. Berry's sister, Miss Dickinson. We had three miles' drive to the station; we arrived at 3.20 and the train was expected at 4.15 but it never arrived till 5.10. This is the usual thing in Serbia; we only have sixty miles to go. We arrived at 9; the train stopped at every station from 15 to 20 minutes, so the people get out of the train and sit by the side of the railways. It makes the journey quite enjoyable when one is not pressed for time. Our train was going on to Belgrade. We had two French people, and all the rest were Serbians in our carriage. The train was full of soldiers going to Belgrade. The soldiers all travel in trucks, the officers in the ordinary way. I wonder how our Tommies would like this. We were to spend the night at a little cottage rented by Dr. Banks for the Red Cross at Stellatch. A boy at the station insisted on saying there was no such place; the railway officials wanted us to remain at the station, but we insisted on our little cottage and we soon found it in the dark. A very nice woman lived at this cottage, and her two children, a girl and a boy. We were put into this room with two stretchers. A nice Serbian who could talk French at the station said there were only two stretchers, so he sent up a third. We had a few sandwiches which we brought with us, then tucked ourselves up for the night on the stretchers, but it was impossible to sleep for fleas and mosquitoes. We heard that the train for Kragujevatz left at 7 o'clock, so we got up soon after 5. It was very quaint on the way seeing little boys and girls driving along the roads flocks of sheep, pigs and chickens. All the children here seem quite grown up; the schools are all closed and they have to help in the fields with their mothers. The girls are very neat looking; they all part their hair at the side and have a neat plait at the back or wound round their head, and they have a handkerchief tied on their head. The middle-aged women part their hair in the middle and the hair always covers the ears. It is dreadfully hot. On arriving at the station we were told that the train would not leave till 1.30. We have been trying to shade ourselves under a tree all day as it is too hot to walk. It is now 12.45 and our train is appearing in the station; our porter had just rushed up the hill to fetch us; it is not often one gets a train leaving fifty minutes before the time. We got to Kragujevatz at 7 o'clock, after a most tedious journey. It was so funny. Half an hour before getting to Kragujevatz I discovered that Miss Vera Holmes and Mrs. Haverfield were in the same train. It was so nice to see them; they were going to the Scotch Hospital, so they have asked me to go to tea with them to-morrow. On arriving at Kragujevatz we could not get a cab, so we had to telephone for one of the motors to fetch us.
Friday, July 9, 1915.
We had such a welcome back. One of the cooks is not well, so I had to do her work. I went to tea to the Scottish Women's Hospital to meet Miss Vera Holmes and Mrs. Haverfield. I did not stay long as I had a lot to do, so many of our unit are ill. Mrs. Dearmer is seriously ill. This is the most anxious night; she has five doctors with her; she has typhoid and double pneumonia. Every twenty minutes she has oxygen given her; it would be terrible if anything happened to her; she is so nice and we are all so fond of her.
Saturday, July 10, 1915.
Mrs. Dearmer just a little easier to-day. The stores arrived to-day for the wayside dispensaries.
Sunday, July 11, 1915.
This has been a very sad day. Dear Mrs. Dearmer passed away at 7.30; she was buried this afternoon at 5 o'clock owing to the hot weather, and it being a general holiday it had to take place at once. At 7 o'clock four of Dr. Berry's unit from Vrynatchka Banja came to stay at our camp for two days. I have been looking after the invalid dishes for the typhoid fever patients. I made Mrs. Dearmer a large cross of some gorgeous white wild flowers with acacia and clematis. The Serbian Government sent up some lovely wreaths; the coffin was of silver and gilt, very handsome; it had the Union Jack over and was covered with wreaths. At 4.30 the remains were brought from her own tent to a tent we had turned into a little chapel; it really looked sweet. At 5 o'clock the hearse arrived, a ghastly looking thing, with a statue of a man in armour seated on the top. It gave me a dreadful shock when I saw it; it reminded me of a circus; then all the Government officials arrived, officers—the French, English and Serbian, and the prince sent a representative. Crowds of people arrived from other units. We had a military band; then the priests arrived, two in pale blue oriental satin robes decorated with gold, and one a peacock oriental satin edged with gold, one a rich velvet decorated with gold, one a red oriental satin edged with gold, and the sixth a black gown edged with silver. Each priest carried a candle, then two other men came carrying incense. We all followed the hearse in twos as far as the Greek cathedral; all the streets were lined with people to the cathedral, and the cathedral was packed. The coffin was put near the altar and we all stood round. A large lighted candle was put facing the coffin and the six priests stood in front. They all took part in the service. I forgot to say one cross was in silver, with Mabel Dearmer written on it, and it had a large ribbon bow. The band played until we got to the cathedral, and when it stopped the people sang. The Serbs have lovely voices. They remind me of the Welsh. It was terribly sad; the singing in the cathedral was glorious; the service lasted about an hour and a half. One of the French officers read a little address from the cathedral steps, then we walked on to the cemetery, about a mile; the band led, then the hearse and the mourners. Dr. Dearmer, Dr. Marsden and Dr. Atkinson met us at the cemetery gates; the priests continued their prayers in Serbian; then Rev. Mr. Little, who has come to join our unit, read our English service. The grave was lined with white and decorated with clematis. Mrs. Dearmer was buried next to Nurse Ferris. The coffin was lowered into a box, then the lid was put on. After the service Dr. Dearmer, Dr. Marsden, Dr. Atkinson went off in the motor for a few days. We all got into motors and carriages and returned to the camp.
Monday, July 12, 1915.