We had an interesting three days’ stay at Cholm. There was a cholera camp here, at which it was said seventeen German soldiers died a day. The whole country from the San to the Bug was devastated with cholera. Cholm also had a dysentery hospital where the patients were so numerous that they had to lie about on the ground for days before they could be attended to. German order ruled in the town. Notices were posted up that only certain wells could be used, and bakers were especially warned about the water they took for baking. The attitude of the population was instructive. The Russians hated us, the Poles were afraid of us, the Jews received us with open arms. The German Government had already begun an extensive propaganda. Local newspapers had been founded which should bring the people round to Germany’s side. They certainly made some impression on the Jews, if on no one else. At Cholm the only good restaurant was strictly reserved for the use of officers. For us there remained a few dirty Jewish eating-houses. Y.M.C.A. huts or clubs would have been very welcome because we had nothing to do all day, and time hung very heavy on our hands. I consider it one of the greatest successes in the war that this side of a soldier’s life was so well looked after by the English and the French. When we were not in the towns, we used to spend the time very happily. All the golden afternoons we used to bathe in the rivers or lakes and then run up and down in the bright sunshine to get dry. At times the whole village--men, women, girls, and children--would turn out to watch us. We were more puzzled than embarrassed at these attentions. There was something about them we could not account for. At last we heard that their popes had told them that every German soldier was a veritable devil with horns, hoofs, and tail complete, and they had come out to see with their own eyes whether it was so or not.