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Anne E. Ross

No. 3 Canadian Stationary Hospital, Lemnos

After 36 hours we were told we were bound for Lemnos Island in the Aegean Sea. Two more days brought us to Mudros Bay. We landed at East Mudros. I doubt if I can give you a picture of the Island. It was hilly and sand sand everywhere. Coming down the hill mounted on a poor donkey was a native – with chickens tied in pairs all around him the wooden saddle. Skinny scrawny chickens with red or black feathers. Our officers met us at the dock and we saw our hospital and the tents that were to be our home. The Hospital was situated on an arm like piece of land and across a bridge was No 1 Hospital.

The only green spot was in the distance. A small white church surrounded by a stone wall with a few stunted trees around it.

The first afternoon we settled our belongings – 3 to a tent.

Drinking water was scarce until the Royal Engineers put in a filtration plant. Our meals poor. Supplies hard to get. Ships that come to Mudros had no orders to sell us supplies. Wind and its raining season set in. The winds roared like [?] its heating of the sun.

Our patients were from the Dardanelles. Dysentry and wounded. Our personnel began to get Amoebic dysentery. Our matron took sick two N.S. and O.C also.

The heat during the day was terrific. Seldom less than 100 when the sun was shining. A small cloud would appear and the rain would pour down on us. The sun still shining. The rain would rise in steam from the sand. Our rations included Hard Tack. After soaking it made a very good pudding.

Laundry was difficult. Native brought it back dirtier than when it was sent. The laundry was left in a tent and as candles were our only lights we went groping for it and found a corpse. Our quarters were situated on old horse lines. There were a number of Turkish prisoners on the Island.

Our first N.S. died next our dearly beloved matron. They lie in that church yard. I spoke of at the beginning. Our matron Mrs Jaggard Canadian born and trained as a nurse wife of a President of one of the W.S railways gave up a life of luxury to serve her mother land. It was my privilege to nurse her in her dying hours. In her we lost a friend. one who was well able to give us good advice – she was a great traveller. I was also a victim of amoebic dysentery and with other sisters and patients were sent to England in December.

Transcript of diary, starting from page 6

Published Monday May 16, 2011 · Last modified Monday June 13, 2011
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