Field Hospital and Flying Column Being the Journal of an English Nursing Sister in Belgium & Russia
By: Violetta Thurstan
User: user12
War, war, war. For me the beginning of the war was a torchlight tattoo on Salisbury Plain. It was held on one of those breathless evenings in July when the peace of Europe was trembling in the balance, and when most of us had a heartache in case--in case England, at this time of internal crisis, did not rise to the supreme sacrifice.
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