Under the Red Crescent: Adventures of an English Surgeon with the Turkish Army at Plevna and Erzeroum 1877-1878Ryan, Charles S. (Charles Snodgrass)
History
Under the Red Crescent: Adventures of an English Surgeon with the Turkish Army at Plevna and Erzeroum 1877-1878
Ryan, Charles S. (Charles Snodgrass)
Russo-Turkish War, 1877-1878 -- Personal narratives
Next morning I was given to understand that I should have to see a
number of patients; however, I fortified myself with two or three
Turkish phrases, and went my rounds without trepidation. My diagnosis
was in each case remarkable for simplicity, and I asked few needless
questions. My first remark was invariably, "Dilli nitchika," which
means, "Put out your tongue." If the man seemed really feverish and bad,
I remarked authoritatively, "Hoiti araba," which means, "Go to the
waggon," and I allowed him to ride in the waggon instead of
route-marching. If I had any doubts as to the genuineness of the
indisposition, I ejaculated sharply, "Hoiti balook," which means, "Go to
your company." Of course all the men who were really ill I made to take
two paces to the rear, and when my inspection was finished I prescribed
for them, and dispensed my prescriptions from the well equipped
regimental medicine chest.
It took the regiment five days altogether to march to Sofia, the
colonel, the two majors, the paymaster, an adjutant, and myself being
the only mounted officers. At first the route lay through mountainous
and very picturesque country, heavily timbered with pines, beeches,
elms, and walnuts. The walnut trees seemed to grow wild throughout the
country, and the nuts were in great profusion.
One night we stopped at the Bulgarian village of Ichtiman, and for the
first time I saw Bulgarians at close quarters and slept in a Bulgarian
house. Dirt appeared to be the national characteristic of Bulgaria, and
a cheerful disregard of all sanitary rules a leading feature in the
national disposition. For size and ferocity I have never seen the
domestic insects of Bulgaria equalled; and in the brief armistices which
occurred in the unequal combats of that horrible night, I longed for my
clean and cosy quarters in the paymaster's tent again. The Bulgarian
men are tall and fair, and the samples that came under my notice wore
huge bonnets of black sheepskin and baggy garments of a kind of coarse
yellow frieze of their own weaving. Instead of boots they wore sandals
laced to the knee in Spanish fashion, and their whole appearance was
grimy and forbidding to a degree. Most of the inhabitants of the village
disappeared into the surrounding hills on our arrival, and the few who
remained forbore to present us with an address of welcome or to erect a
triumphal arch in our honour. Sullenly and suspiciously they offered us
bowls of _yuoart_ to eat, a horrible sticky mess made of curdled milk,
of which I partook to my subsequent sorrow.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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