Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - XX. War sufferers
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return of palpitating interest in the cause that they had
defended. I still remember a tall, good-looking young
man, with an aquiline nose and an energetic expression.
He was wounded and picked up for dead by the
Hungarians at the Koziuvka, that corner of the
Carpathians where more than 50,000 Russians covered the
ground after repeated attacks. He was admirably nursed
in a Budapest hospital, where ladies bearing the highest
names of the Hungarian aristocracy took great care of
him—he admitted this with sincere gratitude. Finally,
having had one arm amputated, the other arm and both
legs damaged and left stiff, and both eyes almost
irretrievably injured, he was able to be repatriated as
“seriously wounded,” which he certainly was! I can see
him still, just before the train left, standing on the step
of the carriage, and drawing himself up with undefeated
energy. “Legs, arms, all that is nothing; the state of
my eyes worries me, but perhaps I shall be able to see
a little with one. In any case I shall be able to do
something: I shall ask to be allowed to go into the
schools for young officers; I could teach them heaps of
useful things about actual war and fighting; but above
all I should tell them how necessary it is for them to be
esteemed by their men, how one must be ready to
sacrifice oneself if need be, and how happy and proud
one can feel at having done one’s whole duty!” “It’s an
epic! a perfect epic!” exclaimed a foreign colleague who
was with me, and for whom I was translating the words
of my compatriot. Again we bowed very low to him,
although he could not see us doing so.
His name was Captain Sergueieff, of the Siberian
Tirailleurs.
But let us leave the ambulance trains to continue
their journey and let us turn our attention to other
compatriots who were continually passing through
Sweden and often stopped in Stockholm.
Very few days after we had seen the heroic Captain
Sergueieff at the Krylbo Station, I was surprised by a
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