We always had “company” to these picnic meals, hungry soldiers, mere ragbags held together by bones, crept around us and learnt for the first time the joys of curry and cocoa.

As we came round the corner into sight of the town a large block of temporary encampments stretched away beyond the river to our left.  Beyond them was a flat plain on which was a large tent with a red cross painted over it.  High behind the town towered a grey hill on which was a white Turkish blockhouse, for though where we were driving had always been Serbia, Rashka lay just on the boundary.  We drove into a narrow street, presently coming to a stop where two motor cars blocked the way.

The Commandant from Kragujevatz, who had promised transport to all English hospitals, was standing on the road.  He seemed very flustered and bothered lest we should want him to do something for us.  We assured him we wanted nothing except bread, for neither we nor our drivers had had bread for three days.  The colonel shrugged his shoulders and made a face.

“You might get it perhaps at the hospital.”

Another officer, in a long black staff coat, laughed.  He pulled a hard biscuit out of each pocket, looked at them fondly and pushed them back again.

“I’ve got mine anyway,” he said.  “Bread is ten shillings a loaf if you can buy it.”

Annoyed by the colonel’s manner Jo began to mount her high horse and became blunt.  He was instantly suave.

He seemed dismayed at our idea (to which we still held) of going to Novi Bazar before Mitrovitza to see if really no route existed there.

“Impossible,” said he; “bridges are broken between Rashka and Novi Bazar, and there is no route through the mountains from there.”

We remembered that the country had been under Turkish rule there years before, and guessed that probably the Serbs had not yet been able to exploit new and lonely routes.  At every side in the streets were faces we knew, the head medical this and the chief military that.

Our personal carts went off in charge of the corporal, who was looking for bread from the Government, for of course all bread shops were shut permanently.

The Scottish sisters had not found a refuge, and messengers kept on coming back saying this place was full and that place had no room.

Colonel G——­ became even less likable.  It seemed as though there were no organisation of any kind in the town.  At last, when dark had well fallen, a man said a room had been cleared for them in the hospital.  The motor cars moved slowly off and we told the rest of our carts to follow, as Colonel G——­said we might get bread at the same place.  We stumbled after them through pitch black streets, so uneven that one did not know if one were in the ditch or on the road itself; one lost all sense of direction and only tried not to lose sight of the flickering lights of the carts.  Jo at last climbed into one, and the carts rumbled