AWM41 1068 - [Official History, 1914-18 War: Records of Arthur G Butler:] Nursing - Personal Narratives - Extracts from letters of Staff Nurse C E Strom - 21 June 1917 - 30 September 1918 - Part 6

47.
If you were to see me strolling "home" after a day in the
mess, hands in pockets, eyes on ground, thoughts thousands
of miles away, you would never suspect that I had,
concealed about my person, sufficient stores of all kinds
to replenish our stock for a month. Nell fears that I'll
develop kleptomaniacal tendencies at any time now, and
that I'll break out in Myers when I get back, but I hope
it will never come to that.
"Make some sandwiches, will you, please" says the home
sister, "Here are three tins of meat paste- will that 
be enough?" "Hm-m-m-m," says Christine wisely, viewing the
cupboardful "Better have four, one doesn't go very far".
And neither does it - straight into my pocket when the
business is over, to be added to the stock of things we
may need any day. Of course, if four are needed, well,
they are used, and that's an end to it; but that's bad
management. Don't be shocked, good people. We just get
starving here, and especially when it isn't payday for
a fortnight, needs must, and, when ones candle burns out
before it is supposed to, what would you? As a matter of
fact, we have electric light here; but the use of candles 
is indicated after lights out, if we are still in need of 
illumination.
This morning we walked to Salonique.
And on the way, we met, to our great surprise and delight,
the twa Jocks we had in our mess at the 66th. It was just
great to see them again. They had returned from Italy a 
few days before, and were feeling particularly "fed up and
far from home". The hospital had gone on without them
owing to some misunderstanding of the movement orders,
and here they were and here they were likely to stay. It
was as good as a tonic this dreary afternoon just to see
their brown boyish faces again, and to hear their Scottish
tongues. It brought back those happy old days in the 
hills.
We were whirled home in the car of a G.H.Q. colonel, who
passed us plodding home in the mud, and drew up.....
It was tea time when we returned and most of the groups
had reassembled.
There is nothing so surely an inducer of argument as a 
condition of cooped-upness on a rainy day. The Tommies
are never failing starters. The subject matters little
and the audience less. In any case the noise is the 
same. Everyone joins in, until the whole ward is
pandemonium, all but the sick ones calling out opinions
at the top of their voices, whilst the sick ones demand
that should "stop that awful row" making, I am bound to
say, nearly as much noise themselves. When that happens
Sister discovers a number of jobs that must be done at
once, and looks appealingly round for support. But the
crowd reassembles as soon as the jobs are done! I often
wish they'd unearth a few more subjects, the old ones
get threadbare and tiresome, but they never seem to get
tired of them. We do.
Another Greece Spot.
26/4/1918.
We are nearly there. On Wednesday we left the mud of Kala
behind us (we hope for ever, though undoubtedly there are
worse places.
The convoy of ambulances arrived for these ladies and
their small luggage at 10 a.m. The heavy luggage went

48.
the day before, all except the beds, which, as we had
unfortunately to sleep in them on Tuesday night, followed
us per large motor lorry on Wednesday. I say “followed”
advisedly. If you could have seen the anxious groups
clustered round the gate looking for their beds, It
appeared they got lost somewhere, having been (so they
said) poorly equipped with information in the first place:
not that we could blame them. This country is enough to
lose anybody.
Before the cars came we had our last ambulatory meal,
washed up after it; tied up our beds and bedding, with
a silent prayer that we might behold them again that
night (I have already indication that this prayer was
mercifully answered); donned our much crumpled travelling
dresses (which were, in many cases as in ours merely
print frocks well hidden under our great coats) and taken
a last look round the countryside. The sentimentalists
did the last bit, by the way, the philosophers cleared a 
space in the much cluttered up mess room floor, and had an
impromptu dance thereon - which did them a lot more good
than our melancholic meanderings did us. All power to the
philosophers, say I, I wish I were one.. It is queer
how attached one becomes to the most unlikely spots, and
how the leaving always hurts. So much has happened since 
we first saw Kal. On these occasions one forgets all 
the miserable days (dear knows there have been enough of
them) only the good days stand out vividly when one moves
on. All the friends one has made; all the busy happy
cheery days one has worked in the wards; all the gay
walks across the fields to the old Y.M.C.A., all the
jolly trips to the dirty, fascinating, wearying Sal.
Most of hated leaving Kalamaria, almost perhaps, as much
as we hated leaving the 68th. It's over now, and we are
some miles away.
There is always a vast amount of hurry and bustle on
these auspicious occasions. There are two varieties of
bustle; our own, concerning our own private affairs;
and that of authority. That Authority is by far the
more diverting, as we never know what form it will take;
our own worried scurrying is but a childish display in
comparison. Frequently the official message arrives
breathlessly from our G.H.Q., and we all gather round to
hear. So far no one has been found who can foretell
these official messages with any great success. They may 
contain anything, from an order to the effect that all
members of the A.A.N.S., on the occasion of their
transfer from district so and so to such and such will
wear..........
Finally we're all settled the "tumult and the shouting
dies", and off we go, three to an ambulance, and one in 
front with the driver. The front position is a much 
coveted one..........
The restrictions concerning the number of persons
drivable in each car are getting tighter and tighter.
Soon we shall have to travel in ones, if this keeps up.
There is something fascinating about convoys - even when
they bring one new cases in the middle of the night!
.....It isn't always a y joyful procession, for no one
likes being transplanted (even to a better soil) and the
activities of the past few days, and the probable
repitition thereof during the next few tend to cast some
shaddow on the sunniest brow. So we are generally a 
silent c^rew, sitting on the long seats with our feet firmly
on the floor to lessen the lurching, our belongings 

49.
clasped in our hands; looking out serenely on the
world watching the cars before and the cars behind,
and their dusty winding ways.
We are about seven miles (I said about on purpose) from
where we were lat week. We came right across the city,
and out the other side. Here the country is open, green
and slopy - .
We were taken first to the new site, but, alackaday, our
quarters were not ready for us, so, after the usual
pause for reflection we were driven back to temporary 
quarters, about half a mile away. These tents were the
sisters' lines of a departed hospital - one of the English
ones. When we arrived the sisters were still here, but
since then they have followed up their unit. I don't
think they were exactly overjoyed to have a crowd of
hungry Australians landed upon them; probably we should
have been bad enough without the hunger. It must have 
been a bit of a worry to the matron at any rate, though 
she was what the army would call jolly decent about the
invasion. 
They tucked us into empty tents, though there were not a
great number of them unoccupied, and we spent a few
minutes sorting ourselves out, and then proceeded to
"hang over" the gate looking pensively for our beds.
Lunch happened after a long interval, just when we had
given up all hope of ever seeing food or our beds again.
Supplies, very naturally, were not equal to the demand,
our rations not having arrived with us, so of course
extra stores had to be sent for, post haste. We had
bread and cheese, sardines and tea, and a welcome feast
it was too. Subsequently we formed a fatigue party
and cleared up the remains of the meal, sweeping the 
marquee most industriously..........
The English sisters don't understand us, and we don't 
understand them. It is a great pity, I think. Some of
them look so bonza, we feel we should like to know them
better, but somehow there is ever a barrier between us -
we are Australians, whom no one knows very much about,
and they are from "home''. I expect they consider our
attitude a little unusual, to say the least of it;
perhaps it is. We are better friends with the Tommies,
to whom no doubt, our free and easy manner comes at
first with a bit of a shock, but on further acquaintances
they decide (one feels) that we mean well, the free and 
easiness which puzzled them so much being merely "the
manifestation of the Colonial spirit" and nothing to
worry about, after all.
Today is Saturday, we are still waiting orders to
proceed over to the new site. Our quarters are not
situated to suit the views of our Principal Matron - 
nor ours either, incidentally - they are somewhat
islated and unprotected, the nearest line of tents to
them being only at loud yelling distance. Hence there
has been much controversy; various Heads have been
consulted; various alternations decided upon; but when
all will be ready for our occupation, goodness knows.
We understand that the M.O's. lines are to be moved a
little nearer, to act as a sort of body guard between us
and the desperadoes of the village bey^ond. By the time
they will have murdered all the M.O's. they will probably 
be too bored to worry about us
Meanwhile there are glorious walks to be taken over the 
flower filled fields, letters to be written, books to be 
read, and no end of odd jobs to be done before we settle
 

50.
to hard graft anew. It is very peaceful here, but
we miss "our harbour" and the city on the hill. We are
back with the country sounds again, sheep bells, and the
cries of shepherds, and the braying of donkeys far into
the night. And in some ways it is good to be back.
Greece.
10/5/18.
.Here we are all settled in our new home,
and here is summer almost upon us again.
We are on the slope of a hill, below us is a gully (full
of the lively skeeter, we suspect), beyond the gully is
more slope, where on sport innumerable goats and sheep
and shepherds, and behind us is the hospital.
It is eight o’clock. We have had dinner, and Nell is
retiring, her "bath" water heats on the little primus
which one of the sisters lent to us the other day when
she went on leave. We must really get one, they are
such bonza things to have here. But they cost two 
pounds, which is a lot these days. We miss the electric
light a great deal; candles are such feeble substitutes,
and are always blowing out. The matches are worth their
weight in gold.
Nell and I have a marquee to ourselves. We are nursing
in the same block - a block which deals with dysentery
of a certain type, and which is isolated. The four
wards dwell all together, in a barbed wire enclosure;
the menagerie, the boys call it, as they stand looking
pensively over the fence. Of my twenty seven lads only
about ten are acutely ill; the others await their
discharge either to Con camp or to Malta hospitals, en
route for Blighty. Some of them have been waiting so
long - for this particular branch of the disorder takes
some beating - that they regard themselves quite as part
of the ward equipment.
We have even a table to ourselves at meals. The charge
sister is just great and e're a happy family altogether,
have great fun over being "bugs" as isolated folk are
always called.
While we were over at the other lines, cooling our heels,
we inaugurated a society. There are about thirty staff
nurses in the unit, and some fourteen or sixteen charge
sisters. All the staff-nurses met on this occasion - all
but three to be strictly precisely to consider the
question of the rights and wrongs of various systems
now in vogue. The objects of this union are various, but
all depend upon the fact that, once banded together, we
can control the vote at any subsequent mess meeting - a
most important vote at times, we can assure you.
Naturally the existence of this union is to be kept
rigidly from the two stars; one of the one stars was put
on guard during the meeting to spy out the land, and 
report approaches. It may all sound childish, but it
isn't really. If you knew some of the charge sisters,
and some of the situations we have had to face, you
would understand. Many of them are bonza - real fellow
creatures! but others are full of strange conceits which
take some appreciating...... Of course they have been
longer trained than we have, and on that account have
doubtless done more work, and, therefore, have, perhaps..
more right to compensations. but that does not excuse
their attitude toward the people who do the work now.
If you hear of riots out here, you will know that our
union has run amok, but we hope to manage better than that.
;

51.
There is much regrettable friction between the two
sections - though, as I've already said, there are 
several two star artists who are universal favorites
with the one pippers: ours is one of them. And they
are popular not because they do some of the work for
us when desperation sets in, but on account of their
"sporting instincts", and especially those concerning
their friends the staff nurses. We don't want other
people to do the work for us; that's what we came out
to do ourselves. But we do like them to treat us with
reasonable consideration, giving us what the army would
call a fair go; and we are a-weary of warfare.
The first mess meeting since the forming of the society
took place a week ago. It was most exciting. Be it
known that, for a long time, we have given afternoon teas,
in our mess, every Sunday afternoon, to the general
public - visitors from other hospitals, M.O's., officers
from everywhere; but, of course, no other ranks.........
Well, at this meeting we were asked to vote for the
continuance of the practice, as there had been some
controversy about it. All in favour said Ay, to the
contrary No, and, to the astonishment of our superior
officers, the Noes had it. All the members of the Union
voted solidly against it, for reasons of their own - which
I shan't go into here. The atmosphere was charged with
electricity. Some of the office bearers resigned (which
was unfortunate, and quite unexpected); all the seniors
sat stunned at this evidence of intrigue. Finally our
President, a girl from the M.H., by the way, and one of
the best - after a word with her party, explained the
situation, and gave the reasons for our unexpected v
blow, her statements being backed up by sundry of her
supporters. And then, on account of the extraordinary
effect our action had had on the assembly, and with the
hope of undoing the havoc we had wrought amongst the
office bearers of the mess committee, we withdrew our
vote, and voted again, and for the continuance. But the
mess committee's heart was broken; and the ruling classes
haven't recovered yet. To think that we, the staff
nurses, should dare, Well, Well, Well. Altogether it
was a most exciting meeting, and one of the very few at
which I have not felt desperately sleepy - on some
occasions (so much for my public spiritedness) it has
been necessary for Nell to recall me to earth when the
moment for the voting has arrived. One does get sleepy
these days - getting up early never did agree with me;
and I seem to have been doing it all my life.
We have been to two concerts since coming out here. One
was excellent; the humour was good, the concert party
versatile, the hosts charming, But the second one was
disappointing. The show was appalling - the vulgarity
greater than we could bear. Had it not been for the
C.O., who sat next to Nell and talked about gardening,
and of "home" during the worst parts, I don't know what
we should have done. Up to that moment I had always
dwelt in great awe of the C.O., but after that exhibition
of chivalrous consideration he dwells in the realms of
the very human.
23/5/18.
.the days just hop along. Things jog along in
the same old way, and very peacefully on the whole.
Occasionally we have a mess muddle, when everyone is
called upon to pay a certain number of francs on the spot -
 

 52.
the pay sergeant being sometimes summoned to pay us for
the purpose - the number of francs baing anything from
five to forty; and sometimes we have a general strafe,
when everyone walks round on tiptoe for a few days, until
the atmosphere has cleared again - and puts out her light
at the instant. Otherwise all is tranquility. The mess
muddles are occasioned by the fact that the sum total of
our bills are found, at intervals, to be greater than the
sum totals of our field allowances, plus the mess
subscriptions. This is due to the fact that, though the
Australian Government pays our humble salaries to us, the
Imperial procures the food. Apparently the cost of living
is higher than it should be, or our field allowance less,
or else we eat an awful lot more than should. I do not
altogether understand the situation, which seems rather
extraordinary - perhaps I shall be able to follow it
more clearly when the cool weather comes back again. It
is too warm to worry at present.
Lately we have had several trips to the noble city. The
ambulance goes twice a week as before.
Chocolate is an appalling price, and lasts no time. The
Red Cross are issuing boiled sweets at intervals to the
wards now, so the boys have them to take after their
quinine; which is as well, considering the difficulties
in the way of procuring a steady supply of chocolate.
Lately there have been a number of transfers amongst the
staffs of the various hospitals. Every few days a few
sisters arrive here from one of the hut hospitals down
at the Base - whether for any specific reason, or merely
to let everyone have a "go" at the poor maligned 42nd,
we don't know. It's a good thing we like being here,
for no one else seems to. Every newcomer proceeds
immediately to make plans to get away again. Certainly
it is fare behind the hut hospitals as far as comfort
and convenience go, but we who have been with it from the
days of its opening - as a tent hospital, before that,
it was in a building, and one of the finest buildings in
all Salonika - stick up for it through thick and thin.
The original unit has been so mingled with newcomers,
and so thinned out by transfers, the departure of sick
sisters, that there are now only a handful of us left.
Sunday,
9/6/18.
.The summer proceeds. One thing I like about
the summer is the fact that it renders washing - if not
a pleasure, as the advertisements say,....... The washing
is always something of a problem. Many of the girls
send all their clothes to one of the many launderies
on the city - the mess are always finding new and better
ones, and the old ones cut out - but they don't seem to
put much heart into their work; the clothes are
torn as to be unwearable, and sometimes, alas, they do not
treturn at all. So Nell and I are content to be our own
laundresses. It is a bit of a nuisance, but one gets
used to it. The cape and collars are the worst flies in
the ointment; we iron them, with my little flat iron
heated on the spirit stove; on a rug spread on the floor
of this tent, there being no tables herein. Sometimes I
take the collars and cape to the ward, and iron them in the
bell tent with the ward primus - when it happens to be

53.
available - but the practice is not encouraged by
Authority. In this hospital we wear overalls instead
of aprons, which renders things much easier. One of the
boys washes my overalls, and mangles them under his pillow.
The days are warm now, even hot.
The insects are awful. Not only are there millions of
flies and billions of mosquitoes, but there must needs be
also grasshoppers of every size and shade, and creeping,
hopping, and crawling things of all descriptions. Some
of the newest arrivals have been neat little green
scorpions, and beautiful flossy dragon flies.
Some time ago Nell and I applied for transfer to France:
but I think it very doubtful that we ever get it. We are
very happy here on the whole, but get very tired indeed
of the atmosphere of Sal., and the climate, and mosquitoes,
and dust (or mud); and we get entirely "fed up" of the
rules and regulations, restructions and red tape. But of
course, the chief reason for our applications was the fact
that we wanted to get to France, where there is more work
to do - though goodness knows we've been busy enough here
lately for the most energetic soul in the world. The
summer conditions of the climate and the insect pests always
fill the wards up, and keep them filled. The ppoor lads - 
I don't know whether they prefer the summer to the winter;
neither extreme appears to agree very well with the
malarials. They go back to Con. Camps - thence "up the
line" looking just awful.
Everyone uses slang - army plus Salonikian, plus
Australian, plus Blighty. It is a regrettable habit
which like all the other regrettable habits, is easier
to acquire than dismiss.
June the 12th., Nocte.
1918.
.It is a year today since we were steaming out
of Port Melbourne.
One thing the year has taught me something about is - the
British Tommy. There are an astonishing lot of small
officers in the Imperial Army (and A.I.F., likewise
no doubt), and there are an astonishing lot of large
Tommies. The large Tommies tend to interest one more.
Somehow one hates to feel that one of the lads has been
hurt or troubled - perhaps because they say, as a rule,
so little about it. The Tommies, with rare exception,
never palaver and never presume. You can forgive a lot
when folks are like that.
Today we had an anti-cholera inoculation.
It's a queer old war; and a queer old army. You can
never do anything to please the army.
If we talk to the heads but sparingly, and that when we are
addressed, we are cool, over-independent, and even
impudent, and courtesy cost nothing.
If we are cheerfully conversational, we are out to get an
R.R.C.
If we spend money on the Tommies, we are fools; the boys
don't appreciate it, and, after all, it's only bribery on
our part. Perhaps we can't keep them in order without
promise of reward.
If we don't spent it, we are mean. Look at the poor
old things, without a cigarette to smoke except the issue
with no matches, with nothing to read, and nothing to
write home on. And us with all our screw!! Well, Well.

54.
If we are friendly with our orderly, we are familiar,
and lacking in dignity, and should be suppressed.
If we are addicted to the "Orderly" habit, we are
stuckup and regimental, and ought to be ashamed of
ourselves.
If we converse amicably with the M.O's., we are
flirtatious creatures, and old enough to know better.
If we leave all the conversing for the other sister to do,
we are unnecessarily aloof.
If we laugh with our Tommies, we are forgetting the
dignity of our position. If they joke with us, and talk
to us of their homes, they have been encouraged to be
friendly, and should be pushed back....into their places.
If we scowl at them, and our wards are of an atmosphere
of gloom and despair, we are forgetting our duty to the
community. Have we not any interest in our patients?
If we go to all the entertainments available (i.e. those
to which we can get off duty, and on the lists of which
we are in time to stick our names), we are gadabouts, no
wonder we are looking so tired.
If we go to few, we are fusty old stick at homes, always
sitting in our tents writing letters.
And - so - on.
Obviously the middle course if the only safe one to
follow! But middle courses are the hardest to steer,
hence we compromise by doing one thing one week, and
another the next, until the army is so muddled by our
contradictory behaviour, that it gives us up in
desperation.
.18/6/18.
The sudden hot spell has brought about much additional
sickness among the troops; the malarials and dysenteric
cases have been relapsing, one after the other, until
there are hardly any up patients left. This, naturally
means a great deal more work for the staff, both on
account of the extra attention, and also because there
are fewer hands to do the necessary fatigues, connected
with the daily routine of the ward.
The thermometers are kept, in their cases, in a wall
pocket (Red Cross Bag) in our wards; and both this
morning, at half past seven, and this afternoon, they
registered well over 101. The mosquitoes and
flies are getting dreadfuller and dreadfuller.
Nowadays we wear panamas to, and on, duty, except in the
evenings. The sun is scorching, and the winds so dry
and hot.
You might let us know whether we are still winning; we
haven(t heard anything about the war for a long time,
except our private little war over here, which keeps us
busy enough, at anyrate, and the poor lads too.
June 24th, 1918.
.we have had a change, it has blown great
guns all day long, and tonight we have it still howling
round the hospital and us. There were scenes of
despair by day down in the ward this afternoon. Lockers
fell over; the recess blew in; dust was everywhere,
charts and official documents were whirled from the
fastnesses of the bell tent.
Next evening.
.The lads had a whist drive in the line, and we
supplied both prizes the booby prize being the more
entertaining. We spent half an hour wrapping up a box

55.
of matches and a packet of Goldflakes in sheets of the
Argus, and advertisement pages of the Bulletin and
sundry boxes of assorted sizes until the whole bundle
was the size of a hat box.
Nearly every Tommy plays whist; though not for money.
They say they have no money. Crown and Anchor and the
inevitable house (affectionately called Housie-Housie
by the infatuated troops) are the games of chance de luxe
of the Imperial Army. Crown and Anchor is been forbidden
in hospital - and Housie-Housie is forbidden in our wards,
so we are no gamblers. If my lads wish to have a "go"
at House, they must needs take themselves off to another
ward, where regulations are less rigid.
Lately we have been to several concerts held at the
respective Ammunition Dumps or Supply Depots. Some of the
companies are very good indeed, and some are very awful.
There are always two or more "girls"; some well got up,
some with unmistakable masculine voices, and jerky overdone
gestures, or overworked feminine "touches",.
Most of the "ladies" costumes are wonderful creations.
I happen to have a professional lady in my ward at present
and he tells me that some of the dresses cost pounds, and
are got together with great trouble from all parts of the
town. Many of them come from home. This same young
man takes a real delight in his effeminate appearance,
putting on airs and rolling his eyes about in the most
realistic fashion, much to the entertainment of the
troops.
So many of us go to each of these concerts. A list goes
up, inviting say twenty sisters, and the first twenty
names down go. We take it more or less in turns, although
of course, frequently we are prevented from attending on
account of duty.
Generally nowadays, we travel down in a huge transport
waggon. This is a motor lorry with a roof on it, and a
tail board about four feet high - so you can imagine the
scrambling we have to do to clamber into it. Sometimes
we get forms from the reception tent, but mostly these
collapse and are more trouble that they are worth, and
we find it more satisfactory in the long run to stand,
or else sit on the floor on cushions with which we
thoughtfully provide ourselves. It is great fun rumbling
along the roads in the dark, the great "car" bumping over
stones and into ruts, splashing through the mud, or
pounding through the dust. The getting home is the worst
part of the business. It is generally after midnight, and
everyone has had a strenuous day, and is dead sleepy,
and morning isn't far away after all.
The officers' mess at the depot where the concert has
been held invariably provide the sisters with supper.
Out here we have met with the most cordial hospitality
from the several messes we have visited, post concert.
They have all been most delightful to us; friendly
without affection. One must be a "colonial" to
appreciate that, and a Colonial, moreover in a community
where Colonials are not in universally understood or,
in consequence, universally beloved.
The last show we went to was Slip Your Clutch - a
motoristic revue, as the title tells you. The music was
from High Jinks, the jokes good - on the whole; the songs
catchy. One of the absurd songs went - to the tune of 
Gilbert the Filbert:
I'm Ivor the driver of this motor car,
The pride of Salonika, the joy of Lang - a - za; 

56.
When I go driving it's repping to see
The Army Commander, who clears the way for me!
When a few hundred lusty voices join in a chorus like
that, in a theatre made mostly of old petrol tins, there
is some noise.
Another gentleman advises the audience (to the tune of
When Irish Eyes, as far as I can remember) to
Be pals with all the ladies-
It's the golden rule in life!
Though they ought to be in Hades (emphatically)
Treat them as you would your wife.
Yells and shrieks of joy from the Tommies. A more
appreciative audience, or a more cigarette-addicted one,
it would be difficult surely to find. Not a joke misses
them; not a topical remark fails to score.
There are only a few jokes in the army, but those the
army never may tire of. Quartermasters, sergeant-majors,
Ford cars, the illusive "leave", the army food, the local
drink - these are a few of them,and one meets with so
often that their faces become old friends.
Sunday again,
July the 7th.
Nell and I are due for leave - a long way overdue, as a
matter of fact, but that couldn't be helped, as the
hospital has been very busy for a long time, and many
of the girls have been off duty or in hospital.
However we hear that we are (D.V.,W.P.,A.B.W. and
everything else) going for a glorious fourteen days to
the Con. Camp in the hills. When we go, is another
matter; it may be tomorrow or next month - so long as
we do go eventually we can stand the waiting.
It will be great to be absolutely free for a whole
fortnight. We'll miss our wards dreadfully - and only
hope we'll be put back there when we return - but it will
be delightful to be able to rest and loaf, sleep and
read without interruption. The hills (the Con. Camp is
where we were last summer) are much cooler, of course,
than it is here; the air is fresher, somewhat, the days
less enervating. I am looking forward to it more than I
can say - we have had no leave since we came here, and
I confess I am feeling ready for it
.All water is boiled here, or treated
(chlorinated), before it is considered fit for our
consumption. Frequently in summer we run out of drinking
water, and have either to go without, or drink it hot.
Lime juice is a popular beverage here. It is queer tasting
stuff bearing no striking resemblance to the lime juice
you buy in bottles at home; but everybody partakes of it,
and refrains from criticism. It improves chlorinated
water, and is supposed to give one a good complexion - 
what more could anyone want that that? Lime juice is a
summer ration as far as the boys are concerned. We always
take care to order it in the wards, on account of the so
many ounces of sugar which accompany it, generally, this
weather, the mixture is welcome, and there is no sugar
left over, but in the cooler weather, the surplus of
sugar comes in very handy for the troops porridge, or
their tea.
July the 15th, 1918.