They were set up, looking like two long
card-houses, and we used bits of canvas for flooring, very necessary, as
it was so wet. Our fires were quickly made with superfluous tent pegs,
and the rice bag was again drawn forth. A groaning soldier with
bloodstained bandage asked us to help him. His arm had not been dressed
for some time. The doctor with us at first thought he had better not be
tampered with; but finally agreed to look at his wound, which was
bleeding violently.
She tore up a towel and bound him up tightly. He said he was going to
Studenitza, a long day's walk, though he was nearly fainting.
On the hill opposite was a huge encampment of boys. As the darkness grew
all disappeared but the light of the fires. It looked like an ancient
battleship with the portholes on fire. We slept, the women fairly
comfortably, but the men were overcrowded.
Heavy rain came on and poured through the top of the card houses.
"Now I know what the men suffer in the trenches," said a very young
girl, when she awoke in a pool of water.
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