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
At that moment the stationmaster rushed up with worried face. "Would
I," he asked, "be so very good as to let the Bakers' Column go before
us, because the next train contained more trucks than we should need,
and they were needed by the bakers?" Our column was already waiting to
embark, drawn up in line outside the station, impatient to be off after
so much delay; but, of course, I agreed to the stationmaster's request,
and we made room for the bakers to pass. We spent the interval eating
supper and pacifying the French doctor for the "insult" of having been
left behind. By the time supper was finished, he was so far mollified
that he was willing to restrict his vengeance to the person of the
Major, and to let off the Serbian nation. So I had hopes that after a
night's journey under the same pacifying influences, there would be
hope even for the Major.
We had great difficulty in getting the cars on to the trucks, which
were too small, and the horrible suggestion was made that the cars must
be left behind and follow later. I knew what that would mean: we should
never see them again, and we could not evacuate the wounded or carry
the staff without them. So I insisted firmly that the barriers of the
trucks must be removed, and that the trucks must be hacked into the
necessary size. And the stationmaster, wearied and overworked, without
time for sleep or food, was a marvel of patience and good temper. He
let us do what we liked, and our chauffeurs, who were also marvels of
resourcefulness, hammered and unscrewed and manipulated, in one way and
another, so that before long the task was accomplished, and the cars
were all safely on board. Then, as we were at last about to start, we
heard shouts of horror, and looking towards the tail end of the long
train, which had at the moment no one near it, we saw flames of fire
leaping in the air--one of the trucks, containing one of our wagons
and, alas! some petrol barrels, was blazing fiercely. At this last
moment was our equipment to be destroyed and our work to be stopped?
The hood of the wagon was burned and some of the soldiers' clothes, but
the petrol was rescued before the fire reached it, the fire was soon
extinguished, and no great harm was done.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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