"
I was all right until I got to Volo when my right leg refused
absolutely to do its act and I had to be carried on a donkey.
A Greek thought I looked funny sitting groaning on the little
donkey; which I did--I looked ridiculous. So he laughed, and
Bass and a French journalist batted him over the face and left
me clinging to the donkey's neck and howling to them to come
back and hold me up. But they preferred to fight, and a
policeman came along and arrested the unhappy Greek and beat
him over the head, just for luck, and marched him off to jail,
just for laughing.
They took me to the hospital ship which was starting, and I
came to Athens that way with one hundred and sixteen wounded;
the man on my right had his ankles gone and the man on the
left had a bullet in his side. They groaned all night and so
did I. Then when the sun rose they sang, which was worse. I
never saw anything more beautiful than the red-cross nurses,
and I guess that is the most beautiful picture I shall ever
see--those sweet-faced girls in blue and white bending over
the dirty frightened little peasant boys and taking care of
their wounds.
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