Item 02: George W. D. Bell war narrative, 14 April 1917-14 May 1918 - Page 58

[Page 58]

Obviously fresh trouble is in store for us owing to the approaching winter. Already the nights are miserably cold out of doors. The air in the ward is odious; my persistent requests for the windows to be opened are futile. The Russians are the sold cause of this discomfort. Britishers are continually opening the windows, but they are promptly closed by a Russian. If one says anything to him, he merely remarks "Nee karoshaw tavarich" (No good friend). The Russian language is extremely difficult to learn without an apt tutor; at least fifty dialects are spoken here. My experience with the average Russian soldier, conveys to me their awful ignorance of things in general; many do not even know why they have fought or what their object was. The usual reply to questions regarding Military affairs, is "Nipenimoyu" (I do not understand) followed by a meaningless shrug of the shoulders. The Russian Jew however is very intellectual and a clever linguist. I have spent many interesting hours chatting with the Jews; they are deceitful, and keep in close touch with the Huns, so I strictly avoid military matters.

1st. Nov. Very heavy snow storm. My wound is quite comfortable, and is healing splendidly. A Russian Jew trasferred from ward Swei, entered this ward to-day; he is bandaged with filthy torn paper; his beard is fully 18 in! in length and saturated in saliva etc. he refuses to cut it. His features are similar to a baboon's and his antics are uncommonly akin. This human disfigurement provides much amusement. Despite these peculiarities, the man is not nearly so daft as most fellows consider him. His ability as a scout is excellent. Immediately after the meal hours, he arrives in the ward carrying three or four bowls of soup; he promptly seats himself upon the nearest bed and drinks ravenously. During this weird performance the men in the ward laugh heartily, and throw pieces of paper at him; he treats this ill-usuage with contempt. What little soup he cannot consume, he places safely under his own bed; he then makes a tour round the ward collecting cigarette ends and fragments of tobacco. The Englishmen call this peculiar fellow "Chimpanzee" and shout