I remember hearing English spoken, and seeing some Red Cross nurses in the custody of Austrian soldiers coming from the railway station.
It would have done me a lot of good to have had a word with them.

I thought of the gallant people whose capital this had been, how three times they had flung the Austrians back over the Danube, and then had only been beaten by the black treachery of their so-called allies.
Somehow that morning in Belgrade gave both Peter and me a new purpose in our task.

It was our business to put a spoke in the wheel of this monstrous bloody juggernaut that was crushing the life out of the little heroic nations.
We were just getting ready to cast off when a distinguished party arrived at the quay.

There were all kinds of uniforms--German, Austrian, and Bulgarian, and amid them one stout gentleman in a fur coat and a black felt hat.

They watched the barges up-anchor, and before we began to jerk into line I could hear their conversation.