and in helping the Director, so loyal to his country and so
conscientious in his work, to bring order out of chaos; and yet the
unhappiness in the Serbian houses, and the physical wretchedness of
those cold, hungry prisoners, lay always like a dead weight on our
spirits. Never shall we forget the beauty of the sunrises or the
glory of the sunsets, with clear, cold, sunlit days between, and
the wonderful starlit nights. But we shall never forget 'the
Zoo,'[13] either, or the groans outside when we hid our heads in
the blankets to shut out the sound. Nor shall we ever forget the
cheeriness or trustfulness of all that hospital, and especially of
the officers' ward. We got no news, and we made it a point of
honour not to believe a word of the German telegrams posted up in
the town. So we lived on rumour--and what rumour! The English at
Skoplje, the Italians at Poshega, and the Russians over the
Carpathians--we could not believe that Serbia had been sacrificed
for nothing. We were convinced it was some deep-laid scheme for
weakening the other fronts, and so it was quite natural to hear
that the British had taken Belgium and the French were in Metz!"


During this time in Krushevatz Dr. Inglis and the women in her Unit
lived and slept in one room. One night an excited message was brought to
the door that enemy aircraft was expected soon; everyone was taking
refuge in places that were considered safe; would they not come too? For
a moment there was a feeling of panic in the room; then Dr. Inglis said,
without raising her head from her pillow: "Everyone will do as they
like, of course; _I_ shall not go anywhere. I am very tired, and bed is
a comfortable place to die in." The suspicion of panic subsided; every
woman lay down and slept quietly till morning.