The weather in Salonika at this time, late November, was
penetratingly cold. In the mornings the steam coils struggled
feebly to dispel the chill in the room.
Early in the morning after Davis had arrived, we were aroused
by the sound of violent splashing, accompanied by shuddering
gasps, and we looked out from the snug warmth of our beds to
see Davis standing in his portable bath-tub and drenching
himself with ice-cold water. As an exhibition of courageous
devotion to an established custom of life it was admirable,
but I'm not sure that it was prudent.
For some reason, perhaps a defective circulation or a weakened
heart, his system failed to react from these cold-water baths.
All through the days he complained of feeling chilled. He
never seemed to get thoroughly warmed, and of us all he was
the one who suffered most keenly from the cold. It was all
the more surprising, for his appearance was always that of a
man in the pink of athletic fitness--ruddy-faced, clear-eyed,
and full of tireless energy.
On one occasion we returned from the French front in Serbia to
Salonika in a box car lighted only by candles, bitterly cold,
and frightfully exhausting. We were seven hours in travelling
fifty-five miles, and we arrived at our destination at three
o'clock in the morning.
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