So we decided to go off to the Factory Hospital and
see if we could persuade the Matron to let us have a bath there.
Zyradow is one very large cotton and woollen factory, employing about
5000 hands. In Russia it is the good law that for every hundred workmen
employed there shall be one hospital bed provided. In the small
factories a few beds in the local hospital are generally subsidized, in
larger ones they usually find it more convenient to have their own. So
here there was a very nice little hospital with fifty beds, which had
been stretched now to hold twice as many more, as a great many wounded
had to be sent in here. The Matron is a Pole of Scottish extraction, and
spoke fluent but quite foreign English with a strong Scotch accent.
There are a good many Scotch families here, who came over and settled in
Poland about a hundred years ago, and who are all engaged in different
departments in the factory. She was kindness itself, and gave us tea
first and then prepared a hot bath for us all in turn. We got rid of
most of our tormentors and were at peace once more.
As we left the hospital we met three footsore soldiers whose boots were
absolutely worn right through.
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