The Flaming Sword in Serbia and ElsewhereStobart, M. A. (Mabel Annie)
History
The Flaming Sword in Serbia and Elsewhere
Stobart, M. A. (Mabel Annie)
World War, 1914-1918 -- Hospitals; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
Sandford could get no hay, so Vooitch and I must waste much precious
time by searching for it. In the morning early we all trekked into
the town. In ordinary times this picturesque place would have been
a delight to us: the houses were of wood with grey shingle roofs;
wooden ladders led from outside to the living rooms; under the living
rooms were the stables in which the cattle lived. But now the houses
were all shuttered and deserted; all shops were evacuated. There
were no foodstuffs; nothing was obtainable. "Nema nishta Bogami"
stalked triumphant, up and down the street. But hay we must have, or
our animals could go no farther. The column waited in a yard, whilst
Vooitch and I explored. Some regiments were quartered in the town;
they had horses, and these, presumably, must be fed. We ascertained
the names of the regiments, but it was not easy to find the address of
their headquarters, as everyone was a stranger in the place, and no one
knew anything except that he himself was looking for food and hay, and
was not keen for others to find it first. Eventually we ran a regiment
to earth, but the officer in command, who was in a room upstairs, must,
I think, have seen me, and afraid, no doubt, that he might be asked to
yield something which he could not spare, he sent word that he was not
there; and in his supposed absence, the under-officer said he could
do nothing. We found a mill, and gained entrance. Mealies were there,
but not for us. We tried everything and everybody--in vain. Were we
after all to be beaten by that beastly "Nema"? It was time now for the
miracle, and at that moment two officers came riding down the street. I
boldly stopped them, and found that we knew each other. We had met on
the trek. They said that no hay was procurable anywhere, but that they
had more than they needed, and they would--bless them!--give us twenty
kilos--enough for a feed, to take us on to the next military station.
We returned to the convoy, the hay was fetched, and the horses and oxen
were fed. We had lost a pony, which had strayed during the night, and
the others might drop down any moment, and we were lucky therefore to
be able to buy two ponies, each still with four legs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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