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Updated: May 17, 2025
A great many had malaria; others had, as far as we could see, very bad pleurisy; and one old Albanian with rattling breath was huddled up in a far corner, too miserable to speak. Whatmough sent for a dribble of camphorated oil he had stored in his knapsack, "to cheer them up," said he, and rubbed everybody who had pain and a cough. "Give them hot drinks," said Jo, in a large way. "Milk or "
Soon after, however, Whatmough rushed up to Jan and Jo, who were talking to a ragged woman. "Do come and talk. An officer has arrested West and Mawson." We ran ahead to find a perplexed mounted officer surrounded by our party. He had come upon West and Mawson walking on ahead and took them to be Bulgarian comitaj. "No, that's not an English uniform," he said, and searched them for firearms.
We borrowed the corporal's axe and hewed for some time in a thorn hedge, without getting much profit but many prickles, and finally decided to take a paling from a Turkish cemetery, for there was no one about. Soon we had a jolly fire, and Cutting and Whatmough got to work on the food. Dr. Holmes turned up. He had arrived the day before and had found lodgings in an inn.
A military motor had stuck deeply in the mud and the wheels were buzzing round uselessly, so we helped to dig her out. Every one's inside cried for breakfast, and when at last we found a swampy plain, Whatmough and Cutting flung themselves upon an old tree trunk and cut it up for firewood.
Whatmough stood in the water, remarking, "I'm wet and I'll get no wetter," and helped people across. Again after dark we arrived at Liéva Riéka, to find our dirty old inn again; but it had a real iron stove which gave out a glorious heat, and we crowded around in the ill-lit room, clouds of steam arising from us.
Suddenly word came from the Transport Minister that a carriage was coming for us. We were to go to Pod, and pick up the others. So Jo stopped tying herself into knots and had to get up and go. We arrived at Pod to find everybody ill. Two days' sedentary life and Turkish delight were responsible for this. We suggested castor oil. One had just missed pleurisy Whatmough had acted as nurse.
There was a lot of grumbling coming from one corner, and after a while a light was struck. "Good lord," said somebody, "my pillow's crawling!" Bugs were cascading down the walls. Stajitch jumped to his feet, and began stamping hard. "Rivers of them," he yelled. Cutting and Whatmough were groaning about the heat, so we opened the door.
The swarthy countenances about the bonfire, the queer costumes in the flickering fire, left us unmoved. Sleep was impossible. The wind caught one in every corner, threatening lumbago. Stajitch fled and camped outside in one of the carriages, despite the rain. We started as early as possible dawn. Whatmough, Cutting, Jo and Jan lost the road, but were eventually rescued by a policeman.
Whatmough, who was convinced that the bombs and gunshots of the night before were spent Austrian shells sailing over the hill, said "That's the first time I've ever liked a fellow sleeping on my face." One of the Stobart nurses, who had used the remains of the hay as a pillow, had been awake all night trying to prevent a hungry horse from eating her hair along with the hay.
"Ah, who would buy them?" he said. "We will." "I couldn't let you have them for less than sixpence," he said. "You see the papers cost a penny each." Whatmough coveted one, so he had his choice, we took the other two. The policeman came to tell us that rooms had been prepared in two clean houses.
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