July 1916. — A month has passed and we are
still here, still neutral, still on tenterhooks.
There is no news from Russia, but troops are
said to have crossed the Danube.
All the ladies have been requested to report
themselves at the Headquarters of the Rou-
manian Red Cross. We Englishwomen can
go and work where we like, and I have offered
myself to one of the big military hospitals.
I was asked whether I had ever done any
nursing, and was obliged to give a negative
reply. But I was told that it "did not
matter," my hands would be useful. I work
there feverishly every day trying to accumu-
late as much knowledge and nursing informa-
tion as is possible. Nurses are even more
completely non-existent than I had realised.
There is not a woman in the place who knows
the first principles of hospital training such
as we have in England, and I feel just as com-
petent as are any of the others to use lavish
quantities of disinfectants and to do exactly
as I am told. The doctor who is to be my
immediate chief is a very clever man; he
knows how to teach me my job, and now it is
only a question of time.
The days fly past. Each evening the conflagration seems inevitable within the next
twenty-four hours, every morning sees us
sunk in apathy and summer stupor. And the
heat is indescribable. We avoid meeting peo-
ple ; where 's the use ? They know now more
than we do ourselves, and talking about the
situation only aggravates the tension.