Helen Leah Reed,
Serbia: A Sketch
“ War, for them, a kind of holiday! They were soldiers now; they would be real men when they reached the sea! The little boys, the hope of the future! Of the thirty thousand who trod that dreary road, only a half lived to reach the sea. Not one-half of these reached the island where they were to have their training as soldiers. [Pg 95] The soul of Serbia was in agony as a ghostlike army, pale, pinched, and starved, crept over the snowy mountains, over the soggy roads—men, women, and poor dumb animals sinking in to their death. ”
