ten think of the guns firing
day and night, and the Taubes overhead, and the burning towns of
Flanders, and then I find myself living a peaceful life, with an
occasional glimpse of a regiment passing by.

* * * * *

_To Mrs. Charles Percival._

BRITISH VICE-CONSULATE,
HAMADAN.
_23 February, 1916._

MY DEAREST TABBY,

We are buried in snow, and every road is a dug-out, with parapets of
snow on either side. All journeys have to be made by road, and generally
over mountain passes, where you may or may not get through the snow. One
sees "breakdowns" all along the routes, and everywhere we go we have to
take food and blankets in case of a camp out. I have had to buy a
motor-car, and I got a very good one in Tiflis, but they are so scarce
one has to pay a ransom for them. I am hoping it won't be quite smashed
up, and that I shall be able to sell it for something when I leave.

[Page Heading: THE DIFFICULTY OF TRANSPORT]

Transport is the difficulty everywhere in these vast countries, with
their persistent want of railways; so that the most necessary way of
helping the wounded is to remove them as painlessly and expeditiously as
possible, and this can only be done by motor-cars. Only one of Mrs.
Wynne's ambulances has yet arrived, and in the end I came on here
without her and Mr. Bevan. I was wanted to give a member of the Legation
at Tehran a lift; and, still more important, I had to bring a soldier of
consequence here. So long as one can offer a motor-car one is
everybody's friend.

Yesterday I was in request to go up to a pass and fetch two doctors, who
had broken down in the snow. The wind is often a hurricane, and I am
told there will be no warm weather till May. I look at a light silk
dressing-gown and gauze underclothing, and wonder why it is that no one
seems able to tell one what a climate will be like. I have warm things
too, I am glad to say, although our luggage is now of the lightest, and
is only what we can take in a car. The great thing is to be quite
independent. No one would dream of bringing on heavy luggage or anything
of that sort, except, of course, Legation people, who have their own
transport and servants.

On journeys one is kindly treated by the few Scottish people (they all
seem to be Scots) scattered here and there. Everywhere I go I find the
usual Scottish couple trying to "have things nice," and longing for
mails from home. One woman was newly married,