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.