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"The Luck of Thirteen Wanderings and Flight through Montenegro and Serbia"

Jo did
not return. Jan went to the hospital to look for her.
Crowds of men were at the door, crowds in ragged and filthy uniforms,
with bandages on arms, or foot, or brow, dirty stained bandages with
bloodstains upon them. Some of the men were crouching on the ground,
some were lying against the house, fast asleep. Somehow we got through
them. The passage was full of men, and men were asleep, festooned on the
stone stairs. The smell was horrible. Beyond a swinging glass door
Scottish women were hurrying to and fro bandaging the men as they
entered, and passing them out on the other side of the building. The
Serbs waited with the stoicism of the Oriental, their long lean faces
drawn with hunger, pain and fatigue. Now and again some man turned
uneasily in his sleep and groaned. A detachment of "Stobarts" had found
a lodging upstairs, in a bedroom with plank beds; amongst them we found
some old friends.
Leaving them we went into the village to look for a meal, back through
the mud.


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