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Friday 25 February 2022

The Angels of the Balkans - 1917


I recently had the good fortune to see "A Girl's Guide to World War" at the Brisbane Powerhouse. Produced by Musical Theatre Australia, the work is an award winning musical portrayal of the work of The Scottish Women's Hospital's work in Serbia during WWI.  For the Brisbane audience the show had the added advantage of being a story about locals, Dr Lillian Cooper and Josephine Bedford. It was well crafted, funny and very enjoyable, but it also told a good story about patriarchal stupidity, sacrifice, and determination.  For me it was a story I had not heard, so I dropped into Trove to learn more.  Here is one article I found which my readers may appreciate. It is from a Sydney newspaper, 'Land', dated 14 December, 1917.


"THE ANGELS OF THE BALKANS."

"These are the good angels who bring us to Paradise!" said a wounded poilu, smiling at the woman chauffeur who threaded her way among shell-holes and rival vehicles on the road to the Scottish Women's Hospitals.

Angels in Heaven and Hell—angels disguised with mud and grease—angels with haggard, tired facts, and their hands stained with blood—angels with needles and thread among the poor, battered uniforms—angels even among the cesspools and filth of the building that at last be came hygienic and habitable as a hospital—angels limping along the road with Serbian refugees—angels themselves passing to Paradise, as they laid down their lives during the Serbian typhus epidemic.

Hence the title at the head of this paragraph—the title by which the staff of the Scottish Women's Hospitals are known throughout the Balkans.

In November, 1914, the first unit of the S.W.H. was established in Calais, under Dr. Alice Hutchinson, for the purpose of fighting the typhus outbreak there.

A few weeks later a hospital with 100 beds was established in the vast old Abbaye of Royaumont, twenty miles from Paris. This hospital was at that time the only one equipped with a travelling X-ray vehicle.

Within three months, at the request of the French Medical and Military Authorities, the accomodation was increased to 200 beds.

Before the "push" on the Somme, the accommodation was further increased to 400 beds.

Recently a 200 bed hospital was opened at Villers-Cotteret in the French firing-line.

The S.W.H. also have three canteens near the French front, at which they care for worn-out "poilus," who have walked some fourteen or twenty miles, maybe in rain, or snow, on the way back to the trenches.

Soon after New Year, 1915, the first unit of women doctors, nurses, women chauffeurs, women orderlies, and women stretcher-bearers, arrived at Kragueje-vatz. At this time the country was in a condition of appalling misery, and the S.W.H. was decimated by typhus. When the S.W.H. unit arrived, two thirds of the Serbian doctors and nurses had been themselves attacked by typhus, and many had died with their patients. Three women of the first unit died at their posts, from typhus.

This work was continued, until at last four units were established, with over 1,000 beds, in their charge.

Towards the-end of 1916 a large camp hospital and motor transport column, staffed entirely by women, was established near Monastir, under the charge of three Australian ladies—Dr. Agnes Bennett of Sydney, and Dr. Lillian Cooper and Miss Bedford of Brisbane.

In September, 1916, two field hospitals and motor transport columns, staffed entirely by women, were sent, via Arch angel, to the assistance of the Serbian division an Roumania.

Since 1915 the S.W.H. have had a model camp hospital of 300 beds in Salonica, officially attached to the French Expeditionary Force.

This year the activities of this hospital have been considerably increased; 200 further beds have been provided, and a special centre created for the supply of artificial limbs and eyes, full dental treatment, and special curative treatment for nervous cases.

There is a main hospital in Ajaccio, especially for the care of sick Serbian refugees. There is also a branch isolation hospital, and a tubercular lazaret. There are out-patient dispensaries at the main hospital, and also at Chiavari and St. Antoine. Thousands of refugees are cared for in this way.

So much for the bare facts. But behind those facts lies a story of women's heroism worthy to rank with the bravest deeds of an era in which brave deeds have become commonplace. In every branch of the work, the S.W.H. have had to contend with difficulties, hardships, and dangers calculated to daunt the bravest, but they have never flinched. Not only did these women provide and staff the hospitals, but many of them were continuously in personal danger from from the enemy, more particularly during the German occupation of Serbia, and the Dobrudja retreat in Roumania. One party, indeed, under Dr. Alice Hutchinson, was taken prisoner by the Austrians, sent into Southern Hungary, and there treated as common prisoners of war for six weeks. Yet another unit, under Dr. Elsie Inglis (who has since laid down her life), remained at Krague jevaltz during the German occupation, turning what was a charnel house for the dying into a hygienic hospital, and saving many Serbian soldiers. Yet another party, caught at Salonica, and unable to go forward, cared for the train loads of refugees, passed them on to the ships, and finally conveyed some thousands of them to Corsica, where they are still caring for the homeless and destitute men, women, and children taking refuge there.

The women of the S.W.H. accompanied the crowds of starving, dying Serbians in their tragic retreat over the Montenegrian mountains. Their last wraps were spread over the wounded, their last coins given to the penniless, their service given to all who needed it. They bore silently all the hardships, and, scarcely able to walk sometimes, they would stop with a joke on their lips, that they might cheer others. Each member of that company tried to outdo the others in self-sacrifice.

The field hospitals and motor trans port columns which went to the assistance of the Serbian division in Roumiania suffered all the privations and horrors of the Dobrudja retreat, and have since been working on the Russo-Roumania frontier in a position of difficulty and danger.

To this wonderful work of mercy, the women of our Empire have faced danger, dirt, disease, and death. The latest cabled news concerning them is that the founder of the movement, Dr. Elsie Inglis, has given up her life in the cause.

Image source:

THE RED CROSS BUGLERETTE. (1916, December 16). The World's News (Sydney, NSW : 1901 - 1955), p. 10. Retrieved February 26, 2022, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article130584545

Text source:

"THE ANGELS OF THE BALKANS." (1917, December 14). The Land (Sydney, NSW : 1911 - 1954), p. 10. Retrieved February 26, 2022, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article102893950

Sunday 13 February 2022

The Darling of the Downs - Poem - 1856

Here I reprint a poem about sheep and love on the Darling Downs published in 1856.  I do this for reasons which I do not understand.

The poem is a 15 verse work with quatrain (four line) verses mostly following the rhyming pattern AABB. 

S. G. Mee clearly loves their em-dashes. I came to Mee after tidying up one of their articles urging temperance and calling out the evils of grog (I may blog that at another time).  But to be honest, reading this poem I do wonder what they were on :-).  Perhaps they were different S. G. Mees but if that is the case they both had a fascination with em-dashes and literary obscurity. Perhaps they were on something in 1856 and then in 1862 by declaring the evils of grog they are attempting to exorcise their shame. Have provided a link to the original ... just in case you want to confirm I haven't doctored it to be weirder than it should be.

I am also somewhat frustrated by the unrequited asterisk in line seven (see image above), which I can only imagine is a note that they have failed to employ the AABB pattern. Except they committed that error twice and failed to asterisk it the second time.

Here is 'Darling of the Downs', make of it what you will.

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THE DARLING OF THE DOWNS.

Morn floodeth yon orient mountain with gold;
My sheep now look wistfully forth from the fold:
"I see you, old ladies, sweet freedom for ye —
Now the gate is wide open,—there, go!—ye are free!"

Yet musing awhile with glad bleatings they stand;
Some bid me good morn with love-licks of the hand.
For the salt I — to my sheep a true Arab am I, *
And the kinder I treat them the greater my joy.

And now move we on to the glorious day,
'Midst wild thyme and flowers to the mountains away;
Hurrah for a race! — my glad lambkins now see,
Steeple-chasing, avaunt! — a bright lamb-chase for me.

A thousand, wild-bounding, as wavelets of light,
Now take in the sunbeams an ecstacy — light!
Their astounded old mothers, with marvelling stare,
Stretch their necks as to say, "Well I never! — look there!"

But who cometh hither? the last time she came
Her mamma tried to scold me, and that was a shame;
She glides as a sunbeam — (would'st give her the slip?) —
One hand on her pinafore, finger on lip.

I'll try and look solemn: now nothing I see,
But those eyes of soft blue which are speaking to me;
Enchantress! — I'm going, — that dimple! I'm gone, —
She knows it, the puss, and comes boundingly on.

"My sweet little Nelly, you've sure run away."
"Dear shepherd, I have'n--mamma says 'at I may;"
"Well then, my darling, whate'er ma' may say,
If I'm even hung for it, I'll steal you to-day!"

Then those eyes leap up to me — nor now doth she reck,
I shall loose the bright tendrils that cling to my neck;
And I view those pure pearls as their corals dispart,
And a kiss soft as snow-flake now melts in my heart.

Then she clappeth her hands in her innocent glee,
And we bound into sunshine — so happy are we;
She swingeth her hat, and the day is begun;
O glorious, golden-haired child of the sun!

My sheep know her voice, and forget their sweet food,
And listen afar in a rapturous mood;
Then they spring to her side with their gambolings wild,
And bleat forth their love for the beautiful child.

"See 'at 'ittle lame lamb, without mother, behind!"
I take it — the poor fractured limb gently bind:
From behind a grass-tree she peeps forth in the sun, —
"Dear shepherd, tell — tell me when it is all done!"

"Now, love;" — and all sobbing she springs to my side,
And a necklace of bluebells around it hath tied:—
"Dear, dear 'ittle lamby — I'll soon kiss it well!"
Still her sweet little bosom with sorrow doth swell.

Thus pass we the day amidst flowers and joy;
Nor my sheep think of food, their sweet shepherdess by;
At night they look doleful — those loving old dams!
And follow her far, with a stream of their lambs.

Sweet child of the desert! — thou wilderness star!
My sheep love me well, but love you better far;
Oh, who would not love thee, thou creature of light!
With thee I e'er wish it would never come night.

But I take her t'wards home, list! know I full well
Of the marvellous feats of her playmates she'll tell;
Now mamma calls to her — "Come love, be undrest:
Good night! one more kiss — say ye, am I not blest?"

S. G. MEE.

SOURCE

ORIGINAL POETRY. (1856, December 2). The North Australian, Ipswich and General Advertiser (Ipswich, Qld. : 1856 - 1862), p. 4. Retrieved February 13, 2022, from http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article78851091 

A few simple lines (the small blue edition) - Poems of Zachariah Sutcliffe

The ‘small blue’ edition of “A few simple lines” was printed by Kidgell and Hartley Printers, South Melbourne, in 1883. The book consists of...