Wednesday, _October 6, 1915._

We are about ready for the fresh wounded; we have put up one or two

fresh marquees, which hold each about twenty-six beds. We have

seventy-two tents in all, and a number in reserve if required. We have

long buildings when the weather gets cold, which have been built

during the summer by the Austrian prisoners; these were intended for

cholera, but fortunately we did not get this disease in Serbia, so the

buildings have been promised us by the Government for wards for our

patients during the winter months. They are very long low buildings

and would hold about thirty or forty beds; there were about six

buildings in all.

On one occasion, in our ward, a patient who was on light diet, was

found to have a parcel under his pillow. This parcel was found to

contain a little roasted pig, from which he had been helping himself

to small pieces. His relations had been to visit him that afternoon

and had given it to him, regardless of whether it was a suitable

present or not. Pigs in this country are cooked when they are quite

tiny, and a leg is only sufficient for one person's meal. Lambs are

also killed and cooked about the same age, and it is really difficult

to find any meat on the bones after they are roasted. The Serbs do not

consider meat good when it is fully grown, excepting oxen, and beef in

Serbia is one of the worst classes of meat, probably on account of

their being used for labour. Milk is scarce owing to the cows being

used for transport.

They have an extraordinary one-stringed instrument which they will

play for the whole of the day; crowds of people will sit round

listening; this was most trying when the patients got hold of it in

the wards, very monotonous and trying, and some of the singing is also

very weird, being only on one or two notes, but on the whole they are

the most musical people. In the cathedrals the singing is perfectly

lovely, such well trained voices.

We hear that the Germans started shelling Belgrade at 3 a.m.; it

lasted for many hours. We had a thick fog at night, which reminded one

of London, being equally dense but not so yellow.

My diary in Serbia: April 1, 1915-Nov. 1, 1915 · 第 137 / 161 题