IGOTZ MENDI TAKEN

An American regiment marching through a French villageAn American regiment marching through a French village (American Official Photograph)

An American regiment marching through a French village (American Official Photograph)

American troops, with full equipment, on parade in LondonAmerican troops, with full equipment, on parade in London (©Western Newspaper Union)

American troops, with full equipment, on parade in London (©Western Newspaper Union)

A French château shelled by the Germans after they had been driven from the village by CanadiansA French château shelled by the Germans after they had been driven from the village by Canadians (©Western Newspaper Union)

A French château shelled by the Germans after they had been driven from the village by Canadians (©Western Newspaper Union)

On Sept. 26, while still dodging aboutin the Indian Ocean, the Wolf met and captured a Japanese ship, the Hitachi-maru, with thirty passengers, a crew of about 100, and a valuable cargo of silk, copper, rubber, and other goods, for Colombo. During the previous day the Germans had been boasting that they were about to take a big prize, and it afterward transpired that they based their anticipations on the terms of a wireless message which they had intercepted on that day. When first called upon by signal to stop, the Japanese commander took no notice of the order, and held on his way even after a shot had been fired across his ship's bow. Thereupon the Wolf deliberately shelled her, destroying the wireless apparatus, which had been sending out S O S signals, and killing several members of the crew. While the shelling was going on, a rush was made by the Japanese to lower the boats, and a number of both crew and passengers jumped into the sea to escape the gunfire. The Germans afterward admitted to the slaughter of fifteen, but the Matunga people assert that the death roll must have been much heavier. The steamer's funnels were shot away, the poop was riddled with shot, and the decks were like a shambles. All this time the Wolf's seaplane hovered over the Japanese ship ready to drop bombs upon her and sink her in the event of any hostile ship coming in sight.

After transferring the passengers and crew and as much of the cargo as they could conveniently remove from the Hitachi-maru to the Wolf, her decks were cleared of the wreckage their gunfire had caused, and a prize crew was put in charge of her with a view of taking her to Germany. Some weeks later, however, that intention was abandoned for reasons known only to the Germans themselves, and on Nov. 5 the Hitachi-maru was sunk.

The Wolf then proceeded on her voyage, and on Nov. 10 captured the Spanish steamship Igotz Mendi, with a cargo of 5,500 tons of coal, of which the Wolf was in sore need. The raider returned with this steamer to the island off which the Hitachi-maru had been sunk, and one evening all the married people, a few neutrals and others, and some sick men were transferred from the Wolf to the Igotz Mendi. The raider took aboard a large quantity of coal, and, after the Spanish vessel had been painted gray, the two vessels parted company. The Wolf reappeared on several occasions and reported that she had captured and sunk the American sailing vessel John H. Kirby and the French sailing vessel Maréchal Davout. On Boxing Day the Wolf attempted to coal from the Igotz Mendi in mid-Atlantic, but, owing to a heavy swell, the vessels bumped badly. It was afterward stated that the Wolf had been so badly damaged that she was making water.

A few days later two large steamships were sighted, and both the Wolf and the Igotz Mendi hastily made preparations to escape. The officers and crew changed their clothes to ordinary seamen's attire, packed up their kitbags, and sent all the prisoners below.

Among the latter was the first officer of the Spanish ship, who saw a German lay a number of bombs between the decks of the Igotz Mendi ready to be exploded if it became necessary to sink that ship with all her prisoners while the Wolf looked after her own safety. These bombs were temporarily left in the charge of the German wireless operator to whom the Spanish officer found an opportunity of communicating a message to the effect that he was wanted immediately on the bridge. The ruse was successful, for the operator promptly obeyed the instruction, and in his temporary absence all the bombs were thrown overboard. The German commander, Lieutenant Rose, was furious. He held an investigation next day and asked each prisoner if he knew anything about the bombs. When the Spanish Chief Officer's turn came he answered:

"Yes; I threw them overboard. I'll tell you why. It was not for me, Captain Rose, but for the women and little children. I am not afraid of you. You can shoot me if you want to, but you can't drown the little children."

Rose confined him to his room, and the next time the Igotz Mendi met the Wolf, Commander Nerger sentenced him to three years in a German military prison.

Coaling having finished, the vessels proceeded north in company. During the first week of January the Wolf sank the Norwegian bark Storkbror, on the ground that the vessel had been British-owned before the war. This was the Wolf's last prize. The last time the two raiders were together was on Feb. 6, when the Wolf was supplied with coal and other requirements from the Igotz Mendi. Thereafter, each pursued her own course to Germany.

About Feb. 7 the Igotz Mendi crossed the Arctic Circle, and, encountering much ice, was forced back. Two attempts were made at the Northern Passage, but as the ship was bumping badly against the ice floes a course was shaped between Iceland and the Faroes for the Norwegian coast. On the night of the 18th a wireless from Berlin announced that the Wolf had arrived safely. At 3:30 P. M. on Feb. 24 the Igotz Mendi ran aground near the Skaw, having mistaken the lighthouse for the lightship in the foggy weather. Three hours later a boat came off from the shore. The Igotz Mendi was boarded at 8 o'clock by the commander of a Danish gunboat, who discovered the true character of the ship, which the Germans were endeavoring to conceal.

Next day twenty-two persons, including nine women, two children, and two Americans, were landed in lifeboats and were cared for by the British Consul. Many of them had suffered from inadequate nourishment in the last five weeks. There had been an epidemic of beri-beri and scurvy on board the vessel.

The Danish authorities interned the German commander of the Igotz Mendi. The German prize crew refused to leave the ship.

The Berlin authorities on Feb. 25, 1918, issued an official announcement containing these statements:

The auxiliary cruiser Wolf has returned home after fifteen months in the Atlantic, Indian, and Pacific Oceans. The Kaiser has telegraphed his welcome to the commander and conferred the Order Pour le Mérite, together with a number of iron crosses, on the officers and crew. The Wolf was commanded by Frigate Captain Nerger and inflicted the greatest damage on the enemy's shipping by the destruction of cargo space and cargo. She brought home more than four hundred members of crews of sunken ships of various nationalities, especially numerous colored and white British soldiers, besides several guns captured from armed steamers and great quantities of valuable raw materials, including rubber, copper, brass, zinc, cocoa beans, copra, &c., to the value of many million marks.

Fitted out as a motor schooner under command of Count von Luckner, with a crew of sixty-eight men, half of whom spoke Norwegian, the German commerce raider Seeadler (Sea Eagle) slipped out from Bremerhaven in December, 1916, encountered a British cruiser, passed inspection, and later proceeded, with the aid of two four-inch guns that had been hidden under a cargo of lumber, to capture and destroy thirteen merchant vessels in the Atlantic before rounding the Horn into the Pacific and there sinking three American schooners before meeting a picturesque fate in the South Sea Islands. The narrative of the Seeadler's career as here told byCurrent History Magazineis believed to be the most complete yet published.

On Christmas Day, 1916, the British patrol vessel Highland Scot met and hailed a sailing vessel which declared itself without ceremony to be the three-masted Norwegian schooner Irma, bound from Christiania to Sydney with a cargo of lumber. As nothing was more natural, the vessel was allowed to pass, and soon disappeared on the horizon.

A few days later, in the Atlantic, running before a northerly gale, this neatlooking,long-distance freighter threw its deck load of planks and beams into the ocean, brought from their hiding places two four-inch guns, six machine guns, two gasoline launches, and a motor powerful enough to propel the vessel without the use of sails on occasion. Then a wireless dispatch sent in cipher from aerials concealed in the rigging announced that the German raider Seeadler was ready for business. On the bow the legend, "Irma, Christiania," and at the masthead the flag of Norway remained to lure the raider's victims to destruction.

The Seeadler had formerly been the American ship Pass of Balmaha, 2,800 tons, belonging to the Boston Lumber Company. In August, 1915, while on its way from New York to Archangel, it was captured by a German submarine and sent to Bremen, where it was fitted out as a raider. Under the name of the Seeadler it left Bremerhaven on Dec. 21, 1916, in company with the Möwe, ran the British blockade by the ruse indicated above, and began its career of destruction on two oceans. While the Möwe waylaid its twenty-two victims along the African coast, the Seeadler turned southwest and preyed on South American trade.

One by one the Seeadler sent to the bottom the British ships Gladis Royle, Lady Island, British Yeoman, Pinmore, Perse, Horngarth; the French vessels Dupleix, Antonin, La Rochefoucauld, Charles Gounod, and the Italian ship Buenos Aires. On March 7, 1917, it encountered the French bark Cambronne two-thirds of the way between Rio de Janeiro and the African coast and forced it to take on board 277 men from the crews of the eleven vessels previously captured. The Cambronne was compelled to carry these to Rio de Janeiro, where it landed them on March 20, thus first revealing the work of the Seeadler to the world. On March 22 the German Government announced the safe completion of the second voyage of the Möwe. (SeeCurrent History Magazinefor May, 1917, p. 298.)

Having thus ended its operations in the Atlantic, the Seeadler rounded Cape Horn with the intention of scouring the Pacific. In June it sank two American schooners in that ocean, the A. B. Johnson and R. C. Slade, adding another, the Manila, on July 8, and making prisoners of all the crews. Captain Smith of the Slade afterward told the story of his experiences. His ship had been attacked on June 17, and he had at first tried to escape by outsailing the raider; but after the ninth shell dropped near his ship he surrendered. He continued:

They took all our men aboard the raider except the cook. Next morning I went back on board with all my men and packed up. We left the ship with our belongings June 18. We were put on board the raider again. Shortly after I saw from the raider that they cut holes in the masts and placed dynamite bombs in each mast, and put fire to both ends of the ship and left her. I saw the masts go over the side and the ship was burning from end to end, and the raider steamed away.

After six months of hard life at sea the raider was in need of repairs and the crew longed for a rest on solid land. Casting about for an island sufficiently isolated for his purpose, the Captain, Count von Luckner, decided upon the French atoll of Mopeha, 265 miles west of Tahiti; he believed the little island to be uninhabited. The Seeadler dropped anchor near its jagged coral reefs July 31, 1917. On Aug. 1 Captain von Luckner took possession of the islet and raised the German flag over what he called the Kaiser's last colony. But the next day, during a picnic which he had organized "to entertain his crew and prisoners," leaving only a few men on board the Seeadler, a heavy swell dropped the ship across an uncharted blade of the reef, breaking the vessel's back. The Germans were prisoners themselves on their own conquered islet!

Von Luckner had been incorrect in believing the island entirely uninhabited. Three Tahitians lived there to make copra (dried cocoanut) and to raise pigs and chickens for the firm of Grand, Miller & Co. of Papeete; this firm was shortly to send a vessel to take away its employes, a fact which the Germans learned with mixed emotions.

They brought ashore everything they could from their wrecked ship, including planks and beams, of which they constructedbarracks; also provisions, machine guns, and wireless apparatus. The heavy guns were put out of commission—likewise the ship's motor. The wireless plant, a very powerful one, was set up between two cocoanut trees. It was equipped with sending and receiving apparatus, and without difficulty its operator could hear Pago-Pago, Tahiti, and Honolulu.

On Aug. 23 Count von Luckner and five men set out in an armed motor sloop for the Cook Islands, which they reached in seven days. There they succeeded in deceiving the local authorities, but a few days later they and their boat were captured in the Fiji Islands by the local constabulary and handed over to the British authorities. Thus ended the Captain's hope of seizing an American ship and returning to Mopeha for his crew.

On Sept. 5 the French schooner Lutece from Papeete arrived at Mopeha to get the three Tahitians and their crops. First Lieutenant Kling took a motor boat and a machine gun and captured the schooner, which had a large cargo of flour, salmon, and beef, with a supply of fresh water. Kling and the rest of the Germans, after dismantling the wireless, left the island that night, abandoning forty-eight prisoners, including the Americans, the crew of the Lutece, and four natives. Before going they destroyed what they could not take with them, cut down many trees to get the cocoanuts more easily, and left to the prisoners very scant provisions, and bad at that. The few cocoanuts that remained were largely destroyed by the great number of rats on the island. There was plenty of fish and turtles.

After the flight of the Germans the French flag was hoisted on the island and the twentieth-century Robinson Crusoes organized themselves under Captain Southard of the Manila and M. Fain, one of the owners of the Lutece. The camp was rebuilt, the supplies rationed out, the catching of fish and turtles arranged, and the question of going in search of help discussed. On Sept. 8 Pedro Miller, one of the owners of the Lutece, set sail in an open boat with Captains Southard and Porutu, a mate, Captain Williams, and three sailors, hoping to reach the Island of Maupiti, eighty-five miles to the east; but after struggling eight days against head winds and a high sea he returned to Mopeha with his exhausted companions. Two days later, Sept. 19, Captain Smith of the Slade, with two mates and a sailor, left the island in a leaky whaleboat dubbed the Deliverer of Mopeha and shaped their course toward the west; in ten days they covered 1,080 miles and landed at Tutuila, one of the Samoan Islands, where the American authorities informed Tahiti by wireless of the serious plight of the men marooned on Mopeha. The British Governor at Apia—Robert Louis Stevenson's last home—also offered to send a relief ship; but the Governor of the French Establishments of Oceania, declining this offer with thanks, dispatched the French schooner Tiare-Taporo from Papeete on Oct. 4.

Two days later the relief expedition sighted Mopeha by means of a column of smoke that rose from the island, for the Robinson Crusoes had organized a permanent signal system to attract the attention of passing vessels. The arrival of the rescuers was greeted with frantic acclamations. By evening the last boatload of refugees was aboard the Tiare-Taporo, and on the morning of Oct. 10 the schooner reached Papeete, where the prisoners at last were free.

The fate of the Lutece with the main body of the Seeadler's crew was indicated, though not fully explained, by a cable dispatch from Valparaiso, Chile, March 5, 1918, stating that the Chilean schooner Falcon had arrived there from the Easter Islands with fifty-eight sailors formerly belonging to the crew of the Seeadler. The sailors were interned by the Chilean Government. Count Felix von Luckner, commander of the Seeadler, who, with five of his men, had been captured by the local constabulary of the Fiji Islands, was interned by the British in a camp near Auckland, New Zealand. In December he and other interned Germans escaped to sea in an open boat and traveled nearly 500 miles, suffering from lack of food and water, but were recaptured after a two weeks' chase.

A report issued by an official British Investigating Committee, known as the Justice Younger Committee, appointed to investigate the treatment of British soldiers by their German captors, made public in April, 1918, presents a shocking record of barbarities. The commission reported as follows:

There is now no doubt in the minds of the committee that as early, at the latest, as the month of August, 1916, the German Command were systematically employing their British as well as other prisoners in forced labor close behind the western firing line, thereby deliberately exposing them to the fire of the guns of their own and allied armies. This fact has never been acknowledged by the German Government. On the contrary, it has always been studiously concealed. But that the Germans are chargeable, even from that early date, with inflicting the physical cruelty and the mental torture inherent in such a practice can no longer be doubted.Characteristically the excuse put forward was that this treatment, not apparently suggested to be otherwise defensible, was forced upon the German Command as a reprisal for what was asserted to be the fact, namely, that German prisoners in British hands had at some time or other been kept less than thirty kilometers (how much less does not appear) behind the British firing line in France. This statement was quite unfounded.Furthermore, at the end of April, 1917, an agreement was definitely concluded between the British and German Governments that prisoners of war should not on either side be employed within thirty kilometers of the firing line. Nevertheless, the German Command continued without intermission so to employ their British prisoners, under the inhuman conditions stated in the report. And that certainly until the end of 1917—it may be even until now—although it has never even been suggested by the German authorities, so far as the committee are aware, that the thirty kilometers limit agreed upon has not been scrupulously observed by the British Command in the letter as well as in the spirit."Prisoners of Respite"The German excuse is embodied in different official documents, some of which enter into detailed descriptions of the reprisals alleged to be in contemplation because of it. These descriptions are in substantial accord with treatment which the committee, from the information in their possession, now know to have been in regular operation for months before either the threat or the so-called excuse for it, and to have continued in regular operation after the solemn promise of April that it should cease. These documents definitely commit the German Command to at least a threatened course of conduct for which the committee would have been slow to fix them with conscious responsibility. Incidentally they corroborate in advance the accuracy, in its incidents, of the information, appalling as it is, which has independently reached the committee from so many sides.As a typical example, the committee set forth a transcript in German-English of one of these pronouncements, of which extensive use was made. It is a notice, entitled, "Conditions of Respite to German Prisoners." As here given, it was handed to a British noncommissioned officer to read out, and it was read out to his fellow-prisoners at Lille on April 15, 1917:Upon the German request to withdraw the German prisoners of war to a distance of not less than thirty kilometers from the front line, the British Government has not replied; therefore it has been decided that all prisoners of war who are captured in future will be kept as prisoners of respite. Very short of food, bad lighting, bad lodgings, no beds, and hard work beside the German guns, under heavy shellfire. No pay, no soap for washing or shaving, no towels or boots, &c. The English prisoners of respite are all to write to their relations or persons of influence in England how badly they are treated, and that no alteration in the ill-treatment will occur until the English Government has consented to the German request; it is therefore in the interest of all English prisoners of respite to do their best to enable the German Government to remove all English prisoners of respite to camps in Germany, where they will be properly treated, with good food, good clothing, and you will succeed by writing as mentioned above, and then surely the English Government will consent to Germany's request, for the sake of their own countrymen. You will be supplied with postcard, note paper, and envelope, and all this correspondence in which you will explain your hardships will be sent as express mail to England.Starved to DeathIt seems that the prisoners, from as early as August, 1916, were kept in large numbersat certain places in the west—Cambrai and Lille are frequently referred to in the evidence—but in smaller numbers they were placed all along the line. Their normal work was making roads, repairing railways, constructing light railways, digging trenches, erecting wire entanglements, making gun-pits, loading ammunition, filling munition wagons, carrying trench mortars, and doing general fatigue work, which under the pain of death the noncommissioned officers were compelled to supervise.This work was not only forbidden by the laws of war, it was also excessively hard. In many cases it lasted from eight to nine hours a day, with long walks to and fro, sometimes of ten kilometers in each direction, and for long periods was carried on within range of the shellfire of the allied armies. One witness was for nine months kept at work within the range of British guns; another for many months; others for shorter periods. Many were killed by these guns; more were wounded; deaths from starvation and overwork were constant. One instance of the allied shellfire may be given. In May, 1917, a British or French shell burst among a number of British and French prisoners working behind the lines in Belgium. Seven were killed; four were wounded.But there is much more to tell. The men were half starved. Two instances are given in the evidence of men who weighed 180 pounds when captured. One was sent back from the firing line too weak to walk, weighing only 112 pounds; the other escaped to the British lines weighing no more. Another man lost twenty-eight pounds in six weeks. Parcels did not reach these prisoners. In consequence they were famished. Such was their hunger, indeed, that we hear of them picking up for food potato peelings that had been trampled under foot. One instance is given of an Australian private who, starving, had fallen out to pick up a piece of bread left on the roadside by Belgian women for the prisoners. He was shot and killed by the guard for so doing.Some Merciful GuardsIt was considered, so it would seem, to be no less than a stroke of luck for prisoners to chance upon guards who were more merciful. For instance, one of them speaking of food at Cambrai says:If it had not been for the French civilians giving us food as we went along the roads to and from work we should most certainly have starved. If the sentries saw us make a movement out of the ranks to get food they would immediately make a jab at us with their rifles, but conditions here were not so bad as at Moretz, where if a man stepped out of the ranks he was immediately shot. I heard about this from men who had themselves been working at Moretz, and had with their own eyes seen comrades of theirs shot for moving from the ranks.At Ervillers in February, 1917, a prisoner's allowance for the day consisted of a quarter of a loaf of German black bread, (about a quarter of a pound,) with coffee in the morning; then soup at midday, and at 4:30 coffee again, without sugar or milk. On this a man had to carry on heavy work for over nine hours. The ration of the German soldier at the same time and place consisted of a whole loaf of bread per day, good, thick soup, with beans and meat in it, coffee, jam, and sugar; two cigars and three cigarettes. The food conditions at Marquion a little later are thus described:We used to beg the sentries to allow us to pick stinging nettles and dandelions to eat, we were so hungry; in fact, we were always hungry, and I should say we were semi-starved all the time. While we were here our Sergeants put in for more rations, but the answer they got was that we were prisoners of war now "and had no rights of any kind; that the Germans could work us right up behind their front lines if they liked, and put us on half the rations we were then getting."Flogged with Dog WhipThe ration was coffee and a slice of bread at 4:45 A. M., soup of barley and horseflesh at 2 P. M., eight pounds of barley and ten pounds of meat between 240 men. And they were compelled to work hard for eight or nine hours a day on this diet. The frequent cruelty of the guards generally is a matter constantly referred to:The German Sergeant in charge at Ervillers (says one prisoner) was very harsh. Twice I saw him (this prisoner was there for a month only) using a dog whip, and heard of him doing so on another occasion. He used it mostly on men who were slow in getting out to work owing to weakness.The description by a body of these men on their arrival at a camp in Germany, after being withdrawn from the front, may be taken as another example of this:We were forced to work; we were given hardly any food, and when we fell down from sheer exhaustion we were kicked until we got up again, and it was not until we absolutely could not get about that we were sent back.To add to their miseries, the accommodation provided for these prisoners was in many cases pathetically inadequate. The witnesses recur to this again and again. One sleeping place, for instance, for a large party was a barn with no roof. The rain poured in upon the men. They had to sleep in their wet clothes and work in the same clothes. They had no change of any kind. And some of these prisoners, if they survived so long, were kept behind these enemy lines for over a year. Their quarters at Cambrai are thus described by two of the men:We slept about twelve in a room in ouruniforms, without either greatcoats or blankets. There was no fire, and it was very cold. We lay on loose straw, which was full of vermin, and we consequently became verminous. We could only wash in a bucket of cold water, without either soap or towels.The Germans did not supply us with any clothing, and as we had to work in all weathers, conditions were very hard. Our clothes used to get drenched through, but still we had to go back to barracks and sleep in them. It was terribly cold also, especially without our fur coats. We asked for clothing, but never got any.No Parcels or LettersBut, added to all these hardships, it was the total absence of parcels and the fact that letters or communications from their friends rarely reached them that placed these prisoners, for misery, in a class apart. Instances are on record where the very existence of some of them was undisclosed by their captors for many months. In March, 1917, for example, a body of these prisoners who had been captured as long before as August, 1916, and had been kept at work by the Germans behind their lines ever since, were returned to a parent camp in Germany weak and emaciated. On arrival there they found a number of their own names in the lists of missing men that had been sent from our War Office through Switzerland and posted in the camp. * * *It seems almost incredible, but the committee do not doubt it to be the fact, that as late as November, 1917, there were at Limburg-am-Lahn undelivered between 18,000 and 20,000 parcels for British prisoners on the German western front. In July, 1917, the German delegates at The Hague plainly recognized that no distinction in respect of the receipt of parcels could be properly made between prisoners of war in occupied territories and others. The agreement then concluded contains provisions on that subject. Having regard to the condition of things at Limburg as late as November, 1917, the committee can only regret that the effect of that agreement was certainly at that date not so manifest as it ought to have been. The matter, they add, is of tragic importance to the prisoners concerned. It made and makes just the difference between starvation and existence to the unfortunate sufferers.Extracts from EvidenceThe committee extract from the great mass of evidence now in their possession statements as to the impression produced upon those who actually saw our men upon their escape to the British lines or after their transfer to camps in Germany. These statements, they believe, must convince every impartial mind that it is impossible in terms of exaggeration to describe the sufferings these prisoners had undergone.In April, 1917, three of them escaped over "No Man's Land." They were received by a British General Staff officer, a Major in the 1st Anzac Corps. This is what he says of them, under date April 18, 1917:Three men escaped from behind the German lines to us the other day. They had been prisoners three months, and were literally nearly dead with ill-treatment and starvation. One of them could hardly walk, and was just a skeleton. He had gone down from 182 pounds to less than 112 pounds in three months. I fetched him back from the line, and it almost made me cry. All that awful January and February out all day in the wet and cold; no overcoat, and at night no blanket, in a shelter where the clothes froze stiff on him; no change of underclothing in three months, and he was one mass of vermin, no chance of washing. The bodies of all of them were covered with sores. "Beaten and starved," one of them said, "sooner than go through it again I'd just put my head under the first railway."The following is the substance of statements by two witnesses from a German camp:About June, 1917, a party of about twenty English soldiers came in who had been working behind the German lines on the western front. I became friends with one of them. He was so weak that I have several times seen him faint on parade. Another of them told me that he was one of a party of 100 working behind the lines on the western front digging trenches and carrying up supplies. He said they were all very badly treated and starved. They were knocked about by the Germans if they did not march as fast as they wanted them to, although they were all so weak. He was only sent to Germany when he became so weak as to be useless for work. When I left he did not look as if he could lift a shovelful of sand. There was another whom I knew. He had also been working behind the lines. They had to work in clogs and no socks. He said they used to tie rags round their feet. He was employed on road making. I never could have believed the things I was told but for the terrible state the men were in, which caused me to feel that no horror I was told was impossible.Many were brought into the camp who had returned from working behind the lines; they were in a shocking state, literally skin and bones, hardly able to walk, and quite worn out physically and mentally; their clothes threadbare and in rags, without boots, wearing old rag slippers. They told me that the conditions of work behind the lines, where some of them had been for months, were terrible; they had to work eight hours a day, and generally were made to walk ten kilometers out to their work, and theonly food they were given was one cup of coffee, a slice of bread, and some soup a day—a day's ration."Shot at Sight"From another camp comes the following testimony:In May of this year a large party of British came into the camp, who had returned from behind the German lines. They were ravenous through being starved, and half savages. I spoke to several of them. * * * Men were shot at sight for a slight cause, such as dropping out to get bread from Belgian civilians. The state in which they returned was the worst sight I have seen in my life. Their clothes were ragged, they were half shaven, verminous, suffering from skin diseases, and were half savage with hunger and bad treatment. After their arrival the commandant in the camp issued an order (which I saw) that no more of these parties should be taken through the main street of the town, but should go by the byways on account of the feeling that had been caused among the population. I am told that the population showed a great deal of sympathy, tears, &c.About May 1, 1917, about 300 prisoners of all nationalities were brought from behind the western lines. I spoke to those who came into the lazaret. All were starving, and had been kept there until they collapsed from overwork. Fifteen Russians died as soon as they were brought in. One man told me that on a march of eleven kilometers a man fell out ill, the guard gave him so many minutes to fall in again, and told him he would shoot him if he was not up by then; he could not go on, and the guard shot him.From a third camp:I knew two of our men who had been working behind the German lines in the west for five months. One was 29 years old, the other 25. The first weighed 180 pounds when captured. He left the firing line too weak to walk, and weighed 110 pounds. He was badly treated and knocked about. When I saw him in camp he was black and blue. The other man had the same treatment. They were both starved, and both were gray-headed with the five months' treatment. These men said our men were dying there every day through hardship and exposure. The food behind the lines was about half the camp rations."Worked to the Bone"From a fourth camp:In September, 1917, seventy-five noncommissioned officers, who had been behind the lines, were brought into our camp. They were in a bad physical condition, hungry, lousy, and worked out. One month after, a large body, all privates from behind the lines, captured since May, came in. They were in a terrible condition, famished beyond words. They had been worked to the bone, and were in a filthy condition. They made our camp lousy. The camp doctor said they were the worst cases he had seen, and said they could stay in bed for a week. They were so famished that two died of eating the food we gave them. They had been working on the Hindenburg line, and the railway Cambrai to Lille, and repairing it under fire. They said they were on very small rations and compelled to work. They told us that Frenchwomen who out of compassion gave them any trifling gift of fruit were knocked down by the sentries.From the same camp:I spoke to men who had been kept at work behind the German lines on the western front. The majority of these were there about twelve months, and they came into camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. They told me that they had been employed close up to the lines. They had been employed cutting trees, and had been under our own shellfire. They were half starved and in a terrible condition. On one occasion about 300 came in, about forty of whom had British clothes, the rest being dressed in odds and ends of French and German clothing—in fact, anything they could get hold of. We collected bread for them and cut it up in readiness for their arrival so as to save all possible time, but their hunger was so great they could not help raiding us and fighting for it. It was terrible to see them. I do not think many of them had been wounded, but their condition was so terrible that I cannot describe it.They were absolutely the worst bunch of men I had ever seen. They were terribly thin and weak, and fell down as soon as they started to eat, as they were in an absolutely exhausted state. Their underclothing was in a dreadful state, and they were covered with vermin, and had been like that for about twelve months. This is the party which I mentioned as coming to the camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. About a fortnight after their arrival, and after their clothes had been fumigated and they had baths two or three times a week, they picked up wonderfully.From a fifth camp:In March, 1917, I saw fifty English prisoners come in to camp who had been working behind the lines near Cambrai digging trenches; they had been there three or four months. All of them were in a shocking condition, absolutely starved, with boils and sores all overthem. We used to share our parcels with these men. During the whole time I was in camp—that is, up to December last—men were drifting in who had been working behind the lines on the western front; they always arrived in the same shocking condition. I remember particularly one, in November, 1917, coming back from Cambrai district. He was very bad and starved; he told me they had been very badly treated; all huddled together in barns, no sanitary arrangements, no blankets, and he said he had seen a native woman shot for giving them food; that they were well within range of guns, and within six kilometers of the lines, shells frequently falling about them, and that he had seen many of his own comrades wounded while working, that they were knocked about by their guards, and, generally, his account of their treatment was appalling. To my knowledge from conversation with them, men were coming in who had been working close up behind the lines right down to the time I left Germany in December, 1917.From an army Chaplain:On Feb. 16, 1917, there arrived in Minden Hospital sixteen men who had been working behind the western front, attached to Camp E.K. 5. The thermometer registered 10 degrees, Fahrenheit, below zero. They had walked seven kilometers from the station. Their clothing consisted of tunic, trousers, and thin shirt, boots and socks, and an old hat—no coat and no underclothes. They had been two days and two nights in the cold train with very little to eat. * * * Two of these men died later of consumption in Minden. They had all been captured in November (this was February) and their relatives did not know that they were even alive. These men report, too, that they are brutally treated; human life is not worth so much as horseflesh, because the latter can be eaten. They are worked until they either die or so completely collapse that they are useless. I believe this was the first party that arrived from the western front. I had the names of the men in a notebook, but it was taken from me. They said it was nothing to wake up in the morning and find the man sleeping beside you dead. I got the names of several who had died, and wrote to their people to inform them.Lives Made UnbearableThe committee close these statements with the following striking extract from the evidence of a young wounded British officer who was placed in a ward in a German hospital in France, filled with prisoners of all nationalities:The German in charge of the ward was a university professor, and, seeing several of our men, also Russians and Rumanians, come on to the hospital in an emaciated condition, I asked him the cause, and where they came from, when, without giving me details, he told me they came from working camps behind the lines. There, he said, the conditions were frightful, so much so that he himself was ashamed of them—the men were overworked, under shellfire, very much underfed, had not much clothing, and slept in sheds and shelters in the snow under filthy conditions. I ascertained from him and from some of our own men that many died behind the lines; all were thoroughly ill-treated by the Germans, and the lives of those who did not die were made quite unbearable.I am sure the German who informed me had no personal grounds which made him complain against the system, it was merely on humanitarian grounds that he told me he was shocked; and the independent stories I received from our own soldiers simply bore out the fact that the Germans were ill-treating their prisoners behind the lines at this time. While I was in hospital the German I have mentioned above did his best to get the men from the hospital marked unfit for work behind the lines; and I must in fairness add that as a result very few, if any, went back to work there once they had been sent to hospital, and they seemed to be marked for camps in Germany instead.The report concludes: "The committee in their survey of the evidence dealt with in this report have failed to find a trace even of lip service either to the obligations so solemnly undertaken by the German Government in time of peace for regulating their conduct in time of war or to these principles from their War Book which that Government professed as their own. Further comment appears to the committee to be superfluous. The facts speak for themselves."

Characteristically the excuse put forward was that this treatment, not apparently suggested to be otherwise defensible, was forced upon the German Command as a reprisal for what was asserted to be the fact, namely, that German prisoners in British hands had at some time or other been kept less than thirty kilometers (how much less does not appear) behind the British firing line in France. This statement was quite unfounded.

Furthermore, at the end of April, 1917, an agreement was definitely concluded between the British and German Governments that prisoners of war should not on either side be employed within thirty kilometers of the firing line. Nevertheless, the German Command continued without intermission so to employ their British prisoners, under the inhuman conditions stated in the report. And that certainly until the end of 1917—it may be even until now—although it has never even been suggested by the German authorities, so far as the committee are aware, that the thirty kilometers limit agreed upon has not been scrupulously observed by the British Command in the letter as well as in the spirit.

The German excuse is embodied in different official documents, some of which enter into detailed descriptions of the reprisals alleged to be in contemplation because of it. These descriptions are in substantial accord with treatment which the committee, from the information in their possession, now know to have been in regular operation for months before either the threat or the so-called excuse for it, and to have continued in regular operation after the solemn promise of April that it should cease. These documents definitely commit the German Command to at least a threatened course of conduct for which the committee would have been slow to fix them with conscious responsibility. Incidentally they corroborate in advance the accuracy, in its incidents, of the information, appalling as it is, which has independently reached the committee from so many sides.

As a typical example, the committee set forth a transcript in German-English of one of these pronouncements, of which extensive use was made. It is a notice, entitled, "Conditions of Respite to German Prisoners." As here given, it was handed to a British noncommissioned officer to read out, and it was read out to his fellow-prisoners at Lille on April 15, 1917:

Upon the German request to withdraw the German prisoners of war to a distance of not less than thirty kilometers from the front line, the British Government has not replied; therefore it has been decided that all prisoners of war who are captured in future will be kept as prisoners of respite. Very short of food, bad lighting, bad lodgings, no beds, and hard work beside the German guns, under heavy shellfire. No pay, no soap for washing or shaving, no towels or boots, &c. The English prisoners of respite are all to write to their relations or persons of influence in England how badly they are treated, and that no alteration in the ill-treatment will occur until the English Government has consented to the German request; it is therefore in the interest of all English prisoners of respite to do their best to enable the German Government to remove all English prisoners of respite to camps in Germany, where they will be properly treated, with good food, good clothing, and you will succeed by writing as mentioned above, and then surely the English Government will consent to Germany's request, for the sake of their own countrymen. You will be supplied with postcard, note paper, and envelope, and all this correspondence in which you will explain your hardships will be sent as express mail to England.

It seems that the prisoners, from as early as August, 1916, were kept in large numbersat certain places in the west—Cambrai and Lille are frequently referred to in the evidence—but in smaller numbers they were placed all along the line. Their normal work was making roads, repairing railways, constructing light railways, digging trenches, erecting wire entanglements, making gun-pits, loading ammunition, filling munition wagons, carrying trench mortars, and doing general fatigue work, which under the pain of death the noncommissioned officers were compelled to supervise.

This work was not only forbidden by the laws of war, it was also excessively hard. In many cases it lasted from eight to nine hours a day, with long walks to and fro, sometimes of ten kilometers in each direction, and for long periods was carried on within range of the shellfire of the allied armies. One witness was for nine months kept at work within the range of British guns; another for many months; others for shorter periods. Many were killed by these guns; more were wounded; deaths from starvation and overwork were constant. One instance of the allied shellfire may be given. In May, 1917, a British or French shell burst among a number of British and French prisoners working behind the lines in Belgium. Seven were killed; four were wounded.

But there is much more to tell. The men were half starved. Two instances are given in the evidence of men who weighed 180 pounds when captured. One was sent back from the firing line too weak to walk, weighing only 112 pounds; the other escaped to the British lines weighing no more. Another man lost twenty-eight pounds in six weeks. Parcels did not reach these prisoners. In consequence they were famished. Such was their hunger, indeed, that we hear of them picking up for food potato peelings that had been trampled under foot. One instance is given of an Australian private who, starving, had fallen out to pick up a piece of bread left on the roadside by Belgian women for the prisoners. He was shot and killed by the guard for so doing.

It was considered, so it would seem, to be no less than a stroke of luck for prisoners to chance upon guards who were more merciful. For instance, one of them speaking of food at Cambrai says:

If it had not been for the French civilians giving us food as we went along the roads to and from work we should most certainly have starved. If the sentries saw us make a movement out of the ranks to get food they would immediately make a jab at us with their rifles, but conditions here were not so bad as at Moretz, where if a man stepped out of the ranks he was immediately shot. I heard about this from men who had themselves been working at Moretz, and had with their own eyes seen comrades of theirs shot for moving from the ranks.

At Ervillers in February, 1917, a prisoner's allowance for the day consisted of a quarter of a loaf of German black bread, (about a quarter of a pound,) with coffee in the morning; then soup at midday, and at 4:30 coffee again, without sugar or milk. On this a man had to carry on heavy work for over nine hours. The ration of the German soldier at the same time and place consisted of a whole loaf of bread per day, good, thick soup, with beans and meat in it, coffee, jam, and sugar; two cigars and three cigarettes. The food conditions at Marquion a little later are thus described:

We used to beg the sentries to allow us to pick stinging nettles and dandelions to eat, we were so hungry; in fact, we were always hungry, and I should say we were semi-starved all the time. While we were here our Sergeants put in for more rations, but the answer they got was that we were prisoners of war now "and had no rights of any kind; that the Germans could work us right up behind their front lines if they liked, and put us on half the rations we were then getting."

The ration was coffee and a slice of bread at 4:45 A. M., soup of barley and horseflesh at 2 P. M., eight pounds of barley and ten pounds of meat between 240 men. And they were compelled to work hard for eight or nine hours a day on this diet. The frequent cruelty of the guards generally is a matter constantly referred to:

The German Sergeant in charge at Ervillers (says one prisoner) was very harsh. Twice I saw him (this prisoner was there for a month only) using a dog whip, and heard of him doing so on another occasion. He used it mostly on men who were slow in getting out to work owing to weakness.

The description by a body of these men on their arrival at a camp in Germany, after being withdrawn from the front, may be taken as another example of this:

We were forced to work; we were given hardly any food, and when we fell down from sheer exhaustion we were kicked until we got up again, and it was not until we absolutely could not get about that we were sent back.

To add to their miseries, the accommodation provided for these prisoners was in many cases pathetically inadequate. The witnesses recur to this again and again. One sleeping place, for instance, for a large party was a barn with no roof. The rain poured in upon the men. They had to sleep in their wet clothes and work in the same clothes. They had no change of any kind. And some of these prisoners, if they survived so long, were kept behind these enemy lines for over a year. Their quarters at Cambrai are thus described by two of the men:

We slept about twelve in a room in ouruniforms, without either greatcoats or blankets. There was no fire, and it was very cold. We lay on loose straw, which was full of vermin, and we consequently became verminous. We could only wash in a bucket of cold water, without either soap or towels.The Germans did not supply us with any clothing, and as we had to work in all weathers, conditions were very hard. Our clothes used to get drenched through, but still we had to go back to barracks and sleep in them. It was terribly cold also, especially without our fur coats. We asked for clothing, but never got any.

The Germans did not supply us with any clothing, and as we had to work in all weathers, conditions were very hard. Our clothes used to get drenched through, but still we had to go back to barracks and sleep in them. It was terribly cold also, especially without our fur coats. We asked for clothing, but never got any.

But, added to all these hardships, it was the total absence of parcels and the fact that letters or communications from their friends rarely reached them that placed these prisoners, for misery, in a class apart. Instances are on record where the very existence of some of them was undisclosed by their captors for many months. In March, 1917, for example, a body of these prisoners who had been captured as long before as August, 1916, and had been kept at work by the Germans behind their lines ever since, were returned to a parent camp in Germany weak and emaciated. On arrival there they found a number of their own names in the lists of missing men that had been sent from our War Office through Switzerland and posted in the camp. * * *

It seems almost incredible, but the committee do not doubt it to be the fact, that as late as November, 1917, there were at Limburg-am-Lahn undelivered between 18,000 and 20,000 parcels for British prisoners on the German western front. In July, 1917, the German delegates at The Hague plainly recognized that no distinction in respect of the receipt of parcels could be properly made between prisoners of war in occupied territories and others. The agreement then concluded contains provisions on that subject. Having regard to the condition of things at Limburg as late as November, 1917, the committee can only regret that the effect of that agreement was certainly at that date not so manifest as it ought to have been. The matter, they add, is of tragic importance to the prisoners concerned. It made and makes just the difference between starvation and existence to the unfortunate sufferers.

The committee extract from the great mass of evidence now in their possession statements as to the impression produced upon those who actually saw our men upon their escape to the British lines or after their transfer to camps in Germany. These statements, they believe, must convince every impartial mind that it is impossible in terms of exaggeration to describe the sufferings these prisoners had undergone.

In April, 1917, three of them escaped over "No Man's Land." They were received by a British General Staff officer, a Major in the 1st Anzac Corps. This is what he says of them, under date April 18, 1917:

Three men escaped from behind the German lines to us the other day. They had been prisoners three months, and were literally nearly dead with ill-treatment and starvation. One of them could hardly walk, and was just a skeleton. He had gone down from 182 pounds to less than 112 pounds in three months. I fetched him back from the line, and it almost made me cry. All that awful January and February out all day in the wet and cold; no overcoat, and at night no blanket, in a shelter where the clothes froze stiff on him; no change of underclothing in three months, and he was one mass of vermin, no chance of washing. The bodies of all of them were covered with sores. "Beaten and starved," one of them said, "sooner than go through it again I'd just put my head under the first railway."

The following is the substance of statements by two witnesses from a German camp:

About June, 1917, a party of about twenty English soldiers came in who had been working behind the German lines on the western front. I became friends with one of them. He was so weak that I have several times seen him faint on parade. Another of them told me that he was one of a party of 100 working behind the lines on the western front digging trenches and carrying up supplies. He said they were all very badly treated and starved. They were knocked about by the Germans if they did not march as fast as they wanted them to, although they were all so weak. He was only sent to Germany when he became so weak as to be useless for work. When I left he did not look as if he could lift a shovelful of sand. There was another whom I knew. He had also been working behind the lines. They had to work in clogs and no socks. He said they used to tie rags round their feet. He was employed on road making. I never could have believed the things I was told but for the terrible state the men were in, which caused me to feel that no horror I was told was impossible.Many were brought into the camp who had returned from working behind the lines; they were in a shocking state, literally skin and bones, hardly able to walk, and quite worn out physically and mentally; their clothes threadbare and in rags, without boots, wearing old rag slippers. They told me that the conditions of work behind the lines, where some of them had been for months, were terrible; they had to work eight hours a day, and generally were made to walk ten kilometers out to their work, and theonly food they were given was one cup of coffee, a slice of bread, and some soup a day—a day's ration."Shot at Sight"From another camp comes the following testimony:In May of this year a large party of British came into the camp, who had returned from behind the German lines. They were ravenous through being starved, and half savages. I spoke to several of them. * * * Men were shot at sight for a slight cause, such as dropping out to get bread from Belgian civilians. The state in which they returned was the worst sight I have seen in my life. Their clothes were ragged, they were half shaven, verminous, suffering from skin diseases, and were half savage with hunger and bad treatment. After their arrival the commandant in the camp issued an order (which I saw) that no more of these parties should be taken through the main street of the town, but should go by the byways on account of the feeling that had been caused among the population. I am told that the population showed a great deal of sympathy, tears, &c.About May 1, 1917, about 300 prisoners of all nationalities were brought from behind the western lines. I spoke to those who came into the lazaret. All were starving, and had been kept there until they collapsed from overwork. Fifteen Russians died as soon as they were brought in. One man told me that on a march of eleven kilometers a man fell out ill, the guard gave him so many minutes to fall in again, and told him he would shoot him if he was not up by then; he could not go on, and the guard shot him.From a third camp:I knew two of our men who had been working behind the German lines in the west for five months. One was 29 years old, the other 25. The first weighed 180 pounds when captured. He left the firing line too weak to walk, and weighed 110 pounds. He was badly treated and knocked about. When I saw him in camp he was black and blue. The other man had the same treatment. They were both starved, and both were gray-headed with the five months' treatment. These men said our men were dying there every day through hardship and exposure. The food behind the lines was about half the camp rations."Worked to the Bone"From a fourth camp:In September, 1917, seventy-five noncommissioned officers, who had been behind the lines, were brought into our camp. They were in a bad physical condition, hungry, lousy, and worked out. One month after, a large body, all privates from behind the lines, captured since May, came in. They were in a terrible condition, famished beyond words. They had been worked to the bone, and were in a filthy condition. They made our camp lousy. The camp doctor said they were the worst cases he had seen, and said they could stay in bed for a week. They were so famished that two died of eating the food we gave them. They had been working on the Hindenburg line, and the railway Cambrai to Lille, and repairing it under fire. They said they were on very small rations and compelled to work. They told us that Frenchwomen who out of compassion gave them any trifling gift of fruit were knocked down by the sentries.From the same camp:I spoke to men who had been kept at work behind the German lines on the western front. The majority of these were there about twelve months, and they came into camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. They told me that they had been employed close up to the lines. They had been employed cutting trees, and had been under our own shellfire. They were half starved and in a terrible condition. On one occasion about 300 came in, about forty of whom had British clothes, the rest being dressed in odds and ends of French and German clothing—in fact, anything they could get hold of. We collected bread for them and cut it up in readiness for their arrival so as to save all possible time, but their hunger was so great they could not help raiding us and fighting for it. It was terrible to see them. I do not think many of them had been wounded, but their condition was so terrible that I cannot describe it.They were absolutely the worst bunch of men I had ever seen. They were terribly thin and weak, and fell down as soon as they started to eat, as they were in an absolutely exhausted state. Their underclothing was in a dreadful state, and they were covered with vermin, and had been like that for about twelve months. This is the party which I mentioned as coming to the camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. About a fortnight after their arrival, and after their clothes had been fumigated and they had baths two or three times a week, they picked up wonderfully.From a fifth camp:In March, 1917, I saw fifty English prisoners come in to camp who had been working behind the lines near Cambrai digging trenches; they had been there three or four months. All of them were in a shocking condition, absolutely starved, with boils and sores all overthem. We used to share our parcels with these men. During the whole time I was in camp—that is, up to December last—men were drifting in who had been working behind the lines on the western front; they always arrived in the same shocking condition. I remember particularly one, in November, 1917, coming back from Cambrai district. He was very bad and starved; he told me they had been very badly treated; all huddled together in barns, no sanitary arrangements, no blankets, and he said he had seen a native woman shot for giving them food; that they were well within range of guns, and within six kilometers of the lines, shells frequently falling about them, and that he had seen many of his own comrades wounded while working, that they were knocked about by their guards, and, generally, his account of their treatment was appalling. To my knowledge from conversation with them, men were coming in who had been working close up behind the lines right down to the time I left Germany in December, 1917.From an army Chaplain:On Feb. 16, 1917, there arrived in Minden Hospital sixteen men who had been working behind the western front, attached to Camp E.K. 5. The thermometer registered 10 degrees, Fahrenheit, below zero. They had walked seven kilometers from the station. Their clothing consisted of tunic, trousers, and thin shirt, boots and socks, and an old hat—no coat and no underclothes. They had been two days and two nights in the cold train with very little to eat. * * * Two of these men died later of consumption in Minden. They had all been captured in November (this was February) and their relatives did not know that they were even alive. These men report, too, that they are brutally treated; human life is not worth so much as horseflesh, because the latter can be eaten. They are worked until they either die or so completely collapse that they are useless. I believe this was the first party that arrived from the western front. I had the names of the men in a notebook, but it was taken from me. They said it was nothing to wake up in the morning and find the man sleeping beside you dead. I got the names of several who had died, and wrote to their people to inform them.

Many were brought into the camp who had returned from working behind the lines; they were in a shocking state, literally skin and bones, hardly able to walk, and quite worn out physically and mentally; their clothes threadbare and in rags, without boots, wearing old rag slippers. They told me that the conditions of work behind the lines, where some of them had been for months, were terrible; they had to work eight hours a day, and generally were made to walk ten kilometers out to their work, and theonly food they were given was one cup of coffee, a slice of bread, and some soup a day—a day's ration.

From another camp comes the following testimony:

In May of this year a large party of British came into the camp, who had returned from behind the German lines. They were ravenous through being starved, and half savages. I spoke to several of them. * * * Men were shot at sight for a slight cause, such as dropping out to get bread from Belgian civilians. The state in which they returned was the worst sight I have seen in my life. Their clothes were ragged, they were half shaven, verminous, suffering from skin diseases, and were half savage with hunger and bad treatment. After their arrival the commandant in the camp issued an order (which I saw) that no more of these parties should be taken through the main street of the town, but should go by the byways on account of the feeling that had been caused among the population. I am told that the population showed a great deal of sympathy, tears, &c.

About May 1, 1917, about 300 prisoners of all nationalities were brought from behind the western lines. I spoke to those who came into the lazaret. All were starving, and had been kept there until they collapsed from overwork. Fifteen Russians died as soon as they were brought in. One man told me that on a march of eleven kilometers a man fell out ill, the guard gave him so many minutes to fall in again, and told him he would shoot him if he was not up by then; he could not go on, and the guard shot him.

From a third camp:

I knew two of our men who had been working behind the German lines in the west for five months. One was 29 years old, the other 25. The first weighed 180 pounds when captured. He left the firing line too weak to walk, and weighed 110 pounds. He was badly treated and knocked about. When I saw him in camp he was black and blue. The other man had the same treatment. They were both starved, and both were gray-headed with the five months' treatment. These men said our men were dying there every day through hardship and exposure. The food behind the lines was about half the camp rations.

From a fourth camp:

In September, 1917, seventy-five noncommissioned officers, who had been behind the lines, were brought into our camp. They were in a bad physical condition, hungry, lousy, and worked out. One month after, a large body, all privates from behind the lines, captured since May, came in. They were in a terrible condition, famished beyond words. They had been worked to the bone, and were in a filthy condition. They made our camp lousy. The camp doctor said they were the worst cases he had seen, and said they could stay in bed for a week. They were so famished that two died of eating the food we gave them. They had been working on the Hindenburg line, and the railway Cambrai to Lille, and repairing it under fire. They said they were on very small rations and compelled to work. They told us that Frenchwomen who out of compassion gave them any trifling gift of fruit were knocked down by the sentries.

From the same camp:

I spoke to men who had been kept at work behind the German lines on the western front. The majority of these were there about twelve months, and they came into camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. They told me that they had been employed close up to the lines. They had been employed cutting trees, and had been under our own shellfire. They were half starved and in a terrible condition. On one occasion about 300 came in, about forty of whom had British clothes, the rest being dressed in odds and ends of French and German clothing—in fact, anything they could get hold of. We collected bread for them and cut it up in readiness for their arrival so as to save all possible time, but their hunger was so great they could not help raiding us and fighting for it. It was terrible to see them. I do not think many of them had been wounded, but their condition was so terrible that I cannot describe it.

They were absolutely the worst bunch of men I had ever seen. They were terribly thin and weak, and fell down as soon as they started to eat, as they were in an absolutely exhausted state. Their underclothing was in a dreadful state, and they were covered with vermin, and had been like that for about twelve months. This is the party which I mentioned as coming to the camp about the end of November or the beginning of December, 1917. About a fortnight after their arrival, and after their clothes had been fumigated and they had baths two or three times a week, they picked up wonderfully.

From a fifth camp:

In March, 1917, I saw fifty English prisoners come in to camp who had been working behind the lines near Cambrai digging trenches; they had been there three or four months. All of them were in a shocking condition, absolutely starved, with boils and sores all overthem. We used to share our parcels with these men. During the whole time I was in camp—that is, up to December last—men were drifting in who had been working behind the lines on the western front; they always arrived in the same shocking condition. I remember particularly one, in November, 1917, coming back from Cambrai district. He was very bad and starved; he told me they had been very badly treated; all huddled together in barns, no sanitary arrangements, no blankets, and he said he had seen a native woman shot for giving them food; that they were well within range of guns, and within six kilometers of the lines, shells frequently falling about them, and that he had seen many of his own comrades wounded while working, that they were knocked about by their guards, and, generally, his account of their treatment was appalling. To my knowledge from conversation with them, men were coming in who had been working close up behind the lines right down to the time I left Germany in December, 1917.

From an army Chaplain:

On Feb. 16, 1917, there arrived in Minden Hospital sixteen men who had been working behind the western front, attached to Camp E.K. 5. The thermometer registered 10 degrees, Fahrenheit, below zero. They had walked seven kilometers from the station. Their clothing consisted of tunic, trousers, and thin shirt, boots and socks, and an old hat—no coat and no underclothes. They had been two days and two nights in the cold train with very little to eat. * * * Two of these men died later of consumption in Minden. They had all been captured in November (this was February) and their relatives did not know that they were even alive. These men report, too, that they are brutally treated; human life is not worth so much as horseflesh, because the latter can be eaten. They are worked until they either die or so completely collapse that they are useless. I believe this was the first party that arrived from the western front. I had the names of the men in a notebook, but it was taken from me. They said it was nothing to wake up in the morning and find the man sleeping beside you dead. I got the names of several who had died, and wrote to their people to inform them.

The committee close these statements with the following striking extract from the evidence of a young wounded British officer who was placed in a ward in a German hospital in France, filled with prisoners of all nationalities:

The German in charge of the ward was a university professor, and, seeing several of our men, also Russians and Rumanians, come on to the hospital in an emaciated condition, I asked him the cause, and where they came from, when, without giving me details, he told me they came from working camps behind the lines. There, he said, the conditions were frightful, so much so that he himself was ashamed of them—the men were overworked, under shellfire, very much underfed, had not much clothing, and slept in sheds and shelters in the snow under filthy conditions. I ascertained from him and from some of our own men that many died behind the lines; all were thoroughly ill-treated by the Germans, and the lives of those who did not die were made quite unbearable.I am sure the German who informed me had no personal grounds which made him complain against the system, it was merely on humanitarian grounds that he told me he was shocked; and the independent stories I received from our own soldiers simply bore out the fact that the Germans were ill-treating their prisoners behind the lines at this time. While I was in hospital the German I have mentioned above did his best to get the men from the hospital marked unfit for work behind the lines; and I must in fairness add that as a result very few, if any, went back to work there once they had been sent to hospital, and they seemed to be marked for camps in Germany instead.

I am sure the German who informed me had no personal grounds which made him complain against the system, it was merely on humanitarian grounds that he told me he was shocked; and the independent stories I received from our own soldiers simply bore out the fact that the Germans were ill-treating their prisoners behind the lines at this time. While I was in hospital the German I have mentioned above did his best to get the men from the hospital marked unfit for work behind the lines; and I must in fairness add that as a result very few, if any, went back to work there once they had been sent to hospital, and they seemed to be marked for camps in Germany instead.

The report concludes: "The committee in their survey of the evidence dealt with in this report have failed to find a trace even of lip service either to the obligations so solemnly undertaken by the German Government in time of peace for regulating their conduct in time of war or to these principles from their War Book which that Government professed as their own. Further comment appears to the committee to be superfluous. The facts speak for themselves."

A correspondent sent the following from The Hague, April 20, 1918, regarding the German treatment of American prisoners:

From irrefutable evidence obtained by your correspondent, it is impossible to close one's eyes to what is going on in the hospitals and prisoners' camps in Germany. It is a mistake to believe that the treatment of prisoners and wounded in Germany has improved. On the contrary, it is as bad as it ever was, even worse.

The punishments inflicted are cruel and inhuman. As is well known, prisoners are absolutely dependent upon parcels for food and clothing. A favorite punishment is to withhold these from a whole camp or from large bodies of prisoners. It has been established beyond doubt that prisoners are employed behind the front and are under shellfire, in defiance of The Hague agreement of 1917.

Some prisoners never reach a camp in Germany for six months, meanwhile receiving no parcels of food. Their condition on arrival at camp, broken down and starving, is pitiable.

The evidence doesn't tend to show that American prisoners are receiving any preferential treatment. It is reported that the first American prisoners taken were hawked about the country, presumably to show them off to the populace. At Giessen, where, it would seem, American prisoners were kept on two separate occasions, they were prohibited any intercourse, even by sign language, with other prisoners and were not allowed to receive parcels or gifts from them.

British prisoners at Giessen asked if they could give parcels to Americans, and finally received permission to do so the following day. But the next day the American prisoners were moved away early in the morning.

British prisoners were able to detect Americans who had been captured any length of time by their appearance and by the state of their clothes. Until parcels for them arrived from Berne their state was deplorable.

A British noncommissioned officer recently obtained the signatures of the first ten Americans captured and talked with them. These men signed the scrap of paper in the hope that some news of them would reach the outside world. They were in poor physical health and somewhat despondent.

A few recent examples from a large amount of sworn evidence follow:

In February, 1918, 4,000 men were sent from a Westphalian camp to within thirty kilometers behind the front. Their guards ran away to escape the British shrapnel fire.

The state of prisoners coming from the big Somme battle in the first week of the present month was deplorable. Their wounds had not been dressed in many cases for more than ten days. Owing to the lack of dressing, British comrades bandaged their wounds with old towels and shirts.

It was formally announced by the German authorities in Camp Bonn on April 13 last that two British soldiers, R. and B., had been shot near Minden for not stopping talking when ordered to do so.

In November, 1917, men were brought into the hospital at M. continually, having been wounded by shrapnel from behind the lines. Wounded men lay for three or four weeks unattended and grossly neglected.

Much of the sworn evidence is so repugnant that it could not be published. There has been talk of reprisals on American prisoners, and even foreigners born in America are included in these threatened reprisals.

With the French Armies, April 20, 1918

The great fire at Rheims has nearly burned itself out. Having thrown in a week 50,000 explosive and an unknown number of incendiary and gas shells, the German gunners ceased as suddenly and inexplicably as they had begun, and when I entered the city this morning the silence of death brooded over it.

The written word is powerless to describe such a spectacle, and it is no more adequate for being unmeasured. But when men of faith, men who love the old and beautiful, write under the fresh, stunning impression of such a sight, is it strange that some loose phrases escape them?

I am very familiar with the ruins of Rheims. From the first bombardment, which destroyed the exquisite sculptures of the north tower and the façade of the cathedral three and a half years ago, I have been able to watch the mischief extending step by cruel step. At first, with normal British reluctance to credit the outrageous or incomprehensible, one was chiefly concerned to find out whether, after all, there was not some sort of military excuse. I severely cross-examined every one who could be supposed to know anything about the matter. There never was any shadow of excuse.

It remained only to record from time to time the progress of a crime as deliberate as any in the annals of the war, and in its own kind particularly damnable—a blackhearted crime such as a Comanche chief or a Congo cannibal would not have had the wickedness to conceive.

And if there be still any rationalist obstinate enough to ask for the reason why of this last outburst of vandalism, I can only hazard the guess that it may have been planned, like the long-distance bombardments of Paris, as a terroristic accompaniment of the Hindenburg offensive. It may have been supposed that the tales of the refugees would help to demoralize Paris and the rest of the country. So little after these terrible years has the boche learned of the people he set out to conquer.

Well, the Cathedral of St. Louis is not falling. Wonderful was the work of the builders. More buttresses, pinnacles, gargoyles, and stone railings have been shattered, more statues chipped, and rain, entering freely by a large rent in the roof, has worked invisible damage since my last visit in November. The cathedral has been struck again. The uplifted sword of Joan of Arc in the bronze equestrian statue before the cathedral has been cut in half.

If this were all, we should have after the war at least a worthy memorial to leave to posterity. It is said that it would now cost a million sterling to restore the finest Gothic fane in France. I hope nothing of the kind will be attempted, nothing more, that is, than the construction of a new roof, new windows, doors, and furnishings, and the necessary strengthening of the structure.

For as it stands, gashed and discolored, the vast shell has a strange magnificence and a piteous loveliness like that of some of the broken splendors that remain to us from the ancient world. Let Rheims speak to the future generations as the ruins of the Acropolis and the Forum have spoken to our fathers and us.

But the city itself raises a different and a more difficult problem. It is now no exaggeration to say that as a whole it is destroyed beyond hope. Till a fortnight ago large parts of it were not beyond the possibility of repair. Remember that Rheims was not a small town like Ypres or Arras, but a wealthy and dignified community of 120,000 souls, occupying a space equal to one-fifth of that of Paris.

There is now from end to end probably not a single house whose walls are not more or less broken. The northern and eastern quarters were already in ruins.Now the centre of the city is gutted. Of the public buildings the central squares built in the time or after the Counts of Champagne, the cloth warehouses and workshops, the private residences, bazaars and shops, nothing stands but rows of smoking walls, half buried in fallen rafters and masonry.

Dr. Norman Maclean, an eminent Scottish scholar, whose articles from the front have appeared in The Scotsman of Edinburgh, penned this touching picture of the war-devastated Somme region a few days before the Germans again swept over it in March, 1918:

They stood side by side on a heap of rubbish inside the door of the ruined church in the midst of the ruined town—a man and woman garbed in humble, rusty black. The survivors of the erstwhile population were being brought back as shelters were prepared and work provided for them; these had obviously just returned, and had come straight to the church. When they fled before the flood of death, the church stood scatheless, built immovably upon the rock of the centuries. It was a shrine of beauty and a haunt of peace. But as they now stood on the mound of fallen masonwork inside the west door, what they saw was this—the roof lying in an undulating ridge piled on the floor, the sacred pictures torn and tattered; the pillars shattered; the altar buried under a great mass of débris, and a figure of the Christ, uninjured, looking out through the broken arches on the dead town, and on the land beyond, where the white crosses gleam o'er the multitudinous dead.

The man stood motionless, with a face like a mask. But in a moment the woman shook as if stricken by an ague. She turned and stumbled toward the doorway, where there is no door, the tears coursing down her cheeks and a sob in her throat. The man turned and followed her. He took her hand in his, and they walked away with bowed heads in silence. It is strange how the human heart is moved. It was the tremulous face of that black-robed woman, and the lifting of her hands as if to hide the abomination of desolation from her sight, and the stumbling flight from a scene intolerable, that made me feel the horror spread before me. For I saw it with her eyes.

What she saw was infinitely more than what I could see. She had experienced in her own soul that this was holy ground. In happy days of childhood heaven seemed to lie here; she had come hither to be received, in white, into the holy fellowship; hither to be married; hither to dedicate her children at the sacred font. And when the burden of life was heavier than could be borne, how often had she come hither; and as she fell on her knees at the elevation of the Host, the very God seemed to fold her in the Eternal Embrace, and her troubles fled as morning mists before the sun.

And when the war came, and the men went forth, and with them her sons, how often did she come softly to this sanctuary and dip her hand in the holy water at the door and cross herself, and bow toward the altar, and kneel and pray that they might be saved. In and out all day they came then, men and women, and they prayed for their own, and for France, and their prayers were as the moaning of the winds. * * * And now this! Nothing is left. Home and town and children and sanctuary are all overwhelmed in the one flood. And the Christ from the broken pillar gazes upon a perishing world. It is with her as with those of old, who fell under the heel of the oppressor and who cried: "Zion is a wilderness, Jerusalem a desolation; our holy and our beautiful house where our fathers praised Thee is burned with fire, and all our pleasant things are laid waste."

There is that in man which enables him to meet every blow of fate with unblanched face—save one. When the blow is aimed at his soul, then he shrivels. It was in her soul that this woman was smitten, as she saw the house of her God thus. And that is why there in the land of death the churches and cathedrals are all in ruins. To make the altars of Arras gaze on the clouds and the stars, and make the winds wail through the colonnades of Rheims, was deemed the surest and swiftest way of spreading terror and affright. So the devotées of Odin declared war upon God. For a little while the tribal deity and the belligerent dynast reign supreme. The homeless and bereft, the great multitude who are as those standing on the rubble-heap, are verily left with nothing but their eyes to weep with.

It is amazing how soon one gets assimilated to the most horrifying environment. In a few days one can walk through a town which has been turned into heaps without even a shock of wonder, just as at home one reads the war news and the list of the dead without any realization. In these days we need to be stung broad awake now and then. A city in ruins becomes deadly monotonous—until one is wakened.

One day, when the sun broke forth heralding the Spring, the promise of green on a clump of tangled rose bushes tempted me to turn into the garden of a shattered villa. It was as thousands of others: the hearthstones looked upward to the clouds, and the household goods lay piled tier on tier of rotting lumber as floor fell on floor. In the centre of the green a shell hole took my eye, and I picked my way toward it. Out of the earth at the bottom of the hole there obtruded the bones of a man's arm. In haste, the dead had been thrown into the shell hole and lightly covered. And the rains had washed so much of the earth away. And that bone brought the realization that I stood in the midst of one vast cemetery.

Everywhere and all around under the feet are the nameless dead—men, women, and little children. These last are the nightmare of this horror. Formerly nations recovered from war swiftly; the cradles filled up the gaps. But here the children are dead. To the eye of faith the Star of the East shines still with splendor over every spot where a babe lies. But that Star has been extinguished in this region of doom. The altar is buried, the hearthstone is in the rain, and amid the welter of rubbish you can see the children's cots twisted and rusting and woeful. A woman breaking into sobs inside a ruined church door; a body in a shell hole in a garden, a child's cot rusting on a rubbish heap—these open the eyes and make them see.

These things did not come by the arbitrament of war. It wasn't shrapnel and high explosives that wrought the desolation. From the battlements of the old citadel one can see the dead town lie spread, and the houses hit by shells are few and far between. The houses destroyed wantonly by the enemy ere they retreated are easily recognized, for the walls fell outward by the internal explosions. Ninety-five per cent. have fallen outward, and the wall of the church is likewise. This ancient sanctuary was wantonly destroyed by the retreating enemy. What amazes one is the appalling stupidity of such a crime. If the Germans destroyed the town, that was their right, the might of the sword, and their act could perhaps be justified. But to destroy the church is to destroy what even Attila spared, and so outrage the conscience and instinct of the world. There is never an excuse to seek when an outrage is perpetrated by the enemy. A hospital ship is sunk—but, of course, it is carrying munitions! A church is turned into a ruin, but its towers are used as observation posts! Poor little towers in a land of airplanes and captive balloons! If the churches had been spared, as they were spared in the world's darkest ages, humanity would know that the German soul was still alive. But now the world knows that it is up against an enemy that threatens body and soul alike—an enemy that not only kills the body, but destroys the soul! What an amazing stupidity!—but it is through such stupidity that God lays up judgment against the day of wrath.

A flurry arose in British Parliamentary circles early in May which for a day or so threatened to wreck the Lloyd George Government, but which resulted in a new triumph for the Premier and a humiliating defeat for those who had intrigued against him. It was precipitated by Major Gen. Sir Frederick Barton Maurice, who had been Director of Military Operations until April, 1918, when he was succeeded by Brig. Gen. Radcliffe. His removal had been due to a public utterance in which he had criticised General Foch for not coming sooner to the assistance of the British after the beginning of the German offensive.

On May 7 General Maurice published a letter in which he definitely asserted that the Premier had made a misleading statement to the House of Commons April 9, when he asserted that the British Army in France on Jan. 1, 1918, was considerably stronger than on Jan. 1, 1917; that he misstated the facts regarding the number of white divisions in Egypt and Palestine; also that Bonar Law, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, had made a misstatement in denying that the extension of the British front in France had been ordered by the Versailles War Council.

A resolution was introduced by former Premier Asquith for the appointment of a committee to investigate the charges. The Lloyd George Government accepted the challenge and announced that they would regard the passage of the resolution as a vote of censure and would resign if it was carried. The debate on the resolution occurred May 9 and resulted in an overwhelming victory for the Government, the vote to uphold the Lloyd George Ministry being 293 to 106; the Irish members were not present.

In his address the Premier took up the charges in detail. Regarding the figures of the British strength he quoted from a report from General Maurice's own department, initialed by his deputy, dated April 27, 1918, which concluded with these words:

From the statement included, it will be seen that the combatant strength of the British Army was greater on Jan. 1, 1918, than on Jan. 1, 1917.

He also showed that his statements regarding the relative strength of the opposing forces in France and the number of white divisions in Egypt were based on figures furnished by General Maurice's department.

Regarding the extension of the British front in France the Premier made some interesting disclosures showing that the extension was made by agreement of Field Marshal Haig and General Pétain, and not by the Versailles Council. He said:

Before the council had met it had been agreed between Field Marshal Haig and General Pétain, and the extension was an accomplished fact. Field Marshal Haig reported to the council that the extension had taken place. There was not a single yard taken over as a result of the Versailles conference—not a single yard of extension.

In discussing this phase Lloyd George proceeded as follows:

Extending the British LineOf course, the Field Marshal was not anxious to extend his line. No one would be, having regard to the great accumulation of strength against him, and the War Cabinet were just as reluctant.There was not a single meeting between the French Generals and ourselves when we did not state facts against the extension, but the pressure from the French Government and French Army was enormous, and what was done was not done in response to pressure from the War Cabinet. It was done in response to very great pressure which Sir Douglas Haig could not resist and which we could not resist. We are not suggesting that our French allies are asking unfairly. That is certainly not my intention.There was a considerable ferment in France on the subject of the length of the line held by the French Army as comparedwith our army. The French losses had been enormous. They had practically borne the brunt of the fighting for three years. There was a larger proportion of their young manhood put into the line than in any belligerent country in the world. They held 336 miles. We held a front of 100 miles.That is not the whole statement, because the Germans were much more densely massed in front of ourselves. Not only that, but the line we held was much more vulnerable. Practically the defense of Paris was left to us, and the defense of some of the most important centres, but there was the fact that you had this enormous front held by the French Army, as compared with what looked like the comparatively small front of ours.Shortage of Farm LaborIn addition to that, the French Army at that time was holding, I think, a two-division front on our line in order to enable us to accumulate the necessary reserves for the purposes of the attack in Flanders. That was part of the line which, I believe, was held before by the British and French.The French were pressing in order to withdraw men from the army for purposes of agriculture. I ought to explain that their agricultural output had fallen enormously, owing to the fact that they had withdrawn a very large proportion of their men from the cultivation of the fields, and they felt it essential that they should withdraw part of their army for the purpose of cultivating the soil, and they were pressing us upon these topics.The Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Sir William Robertson, and the Cabinet felt that it was inevitable that during the Winter months there should be some extension, and we acknowledged that something had to be done to meet the French demands, and to that extent we accepted the principle that there must be some extension of the line.At that time the Field Marshal was under the impression that the Cabinet had taken a decision without his consent. The Chief of the Imperial Staff upon that sent the following memorandum to the War Cabinet. I will read it, but first, with reference to the Boulogne Conference, I may, perhaps, say that that was the first time we had a discussion with the French Ministers. The subject of discussion was a rather important foreign office. It was not summoned in the least to discuss an extension of the lines. We never knew that was to be raised. Sir William Robertson and I represented the British Government, and M. Painlevé, the Prime Minister, and General Foch represented the French Government.When Sir William Robertson discovered that the Field Marshal was under the impression that we had come to a decision without his consent he sent the War Cabinet a memorandum, in which he says:"At the recent Boulogne Conference the question of extending our front was raised by the French representatives. The reply given was that, while in principle we were, of course, ready to do whatever could be done, the matter was one which could not be discussed in the absence of Sir Douglas Haig, or during the continuance of the present operations, and that due regard must also be had to the plan of operations for next year."It was suggested that it would be best for the Field Marshal to come to an arrangement with General Pétain, when this could be done. So far as I am aware no formal discussion has taken place, and the matter cannot be regarded as decided. Further, I feel sure that the War Cabinet would not think of deciding such a question without first obtaining Sir Douglas Haig's views. I am replying to him in the above sense."That, I think, was on the 19th of October. The War Cabinet fully approved of the communication. Sir Douglas Haig communicated, and said that it threw a new light on the Boulogne position. I think that we have a right to complain of the way in which it has been rumored about that Sir Douglas Haig protested.The War Cabinet's DecisionThe fact that Sir William Robertson had explained and Sir Douglas Haig had stated that the explanation threw new light has never been repeated. That is how mischief is done.On Oct. 24 this question was first formally discussed by the War Cabinet. There was further pressure from the French Government, and Sir William Robertson gave his views as to the time which the British Government ought to take, and this conclusion is recorded in the minutes of the War Cabinet as follows:"The War Cabinet approve of the suggestion of the Chief of the Imperial Staff that he should reply to Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig in the following sense: The War Cabinet are of the opinion that in deciding to what extent the British troops can take over the line from the French regard must be had to the necessity of giving them a reasonable opportunity for leave, rest, and training during the Winter months and to the plan of operations for the next year, and, further, while the present offensive continues it will not be possible to commence taking over more line."Under these circumstances the War Cabinet fear that until this policy is settled it will be premature to decide finally whether the British front is to be extended by four divisions or to greater or lesser extent."The resolution was communicated to Sir Douglas Haig by Sir William Robertson, and we never departed from it. After that came the Cambrai incident and the Italian disaster, which necessitated our sending troops to Italy. That made it difficult for the Field Marshal to carry out the promise he made to General Pétain for a certain extension of the front. Then the present French Prime Minister came in, and he is not a very easy gentleman to refuse. He was very insistent that the British Army should take over the line.Clemenceau Suggested VersaillesWe stood by the position that that was a matter to be discussed by the two Commanders in Chief. We never swerved from that position. At last M. Clemenceau suggested that the question should be discussed by the military representatives at Versailles, and that the Versailles Council should decide if there was any difference of opinion. The military representatives discussed the question, and the only interference of the War Cabinet was to this extent. We communicated with the Chief of Staff, who was then in France, and with Sir Douglas Haig to urge on them the importance of preparing their case for the other side so as to make the strongest possible case for the British view.The military representatives at Versailles suggested a compromise, but coupled with it recommendations as to steps which ought to be taken by the French Army to assist the British if they were attacked, and by the British to assist the French if they were attacked, which was even a more important question than the extension of the front.That recommendation came up for discussion at the Versailles Council of Feb. 1. Before that meeting Sir Douglas Haig and General Pétain met and entered into an agreement as to the extension of the front to Brissy, and Sir Douglas Haig reported that to the Versailles Council. When the discussion took place there no further extension of the line was taken at all as a result of the discussion.That is the whole story. I was to make it perfectly clear that in the action Sir Douglas Haig took for the extension of the line he had the full approval of the British Cabinet, having regard to the pressure of the French Government and military authorities. Sir Douglas Haig had no option except to make the extension. He was in our judgment absolutely right in the course he took. Naturally, he would have preferred not to have done it, but the British Government fully approved of the action he took.The real lesson of the discussion is the importance of unity of command. It would never have arisen if you had had that. Instead of one army and one commander responsible for one part of the line, and another army and another commander responsible for another part of the line, we have one united command responsible for the whole and every part. It was the only method of safety, and I am glad we have it at last.It was not so much a question of the length of the line held by one force or the length held by another. It was a question of reserves massed behind.

Of course, the Field Marshal was not anxious to extend his line. No one would be, having regard to the great accumulation of strength against him, and the War Cabinet were just as reluctant.

There was not a single meeting between the French Generals and ourselves when we did not state facts against the extension, but the pressure from the French Government and French Army was enormous, and what was done was not done in response to pressure from the War Cabinet. It was done in response to very great pressure which Sir Douglas Haig could not resist and which we could not resist. We are not suggesting that our French allies are asking unfairly. That is certainly not my intention.

There was a considerable ferment in France on the subject of the length of the line held by the French Army as comparedwith our army. The French losses had been enormous. They had practically borne the brunt of the fighting for three years. There was a larger proportion of their young manhood put into the line than in any belligerent country in the world. They held 336 miles. We held a front of 100 miles.

That is not the whole statement, because the Germans were much more densely massed in front of ourselves. Not only that, but the line we held was much more vulnerable. Practically the defense of Paris was left to us, and the defense of some of the most important centres, but there was the fact that you had this enormous front held by the French Army, as compared with what looked like the comparatively small front of ours.

In addition to that, the French Army at that time was holding, I think, a two-division front on our line in order to enable us to accumulate the necessary reserves for the purposes of the attack in Flanders. That was part of the line which, I believe, was held before by the British and French.

The French were pressing in order to withdraw men from the army for purposes of agriculture. I ought to explain that their agricultural output had fallen enormously, owing to the fact that they had withdrawn a very large proportion of their men from the cultivation of the fields, and they felt it essential that they should withdraw part of their army for the purpose of cultivating the soil, and they were pressing us upon these topics.

The Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Sir William Robertson, and the Cabinet felt that it was inevitable that during the Winter months there should be some extension, and we acknowledged that something had to be done to meet the French demands, and to that extent we accepted the principle that there must be some extension of the line.

At that time the Field Marshal was under the impression that the Cabinet had taken a decision without his consent. The Chief of the Imperial Staff upon that sent the following memorandum to the War Cabinet. I will read it, but first, with reference to the Boulogne Conference, I may, perhaps, say that that was the first time we had a discussion with the French Ministers. The subject of discussion was a rather important foreign office. It was not summoned in the least to discuss an extension of the lines. We never knew that was to be raised. Sir William Robertson and I represented the British Government, and M. Painlevé, the Prime Minister, and General Foch represented the French Government.

When Sir William Robertson discovered that the Field Marshal was under the impression that we had come to a decision without his consent he sent the War Cabinet a memorandum, in which he says:

"At the recent Boulogne Conference the question of extending our front was raised by the French representatives. The reply given was that, while in principle we were, of course, ready to do whatever could be done, the matter was one which could not be discussed in the absence of Sir Douglas Haig, or during the continuance of the present operations, and that due regard must also be had to the plan of operations for next year.

"It was suggested that it would be best for the Field Marshal to come to an arrangement with General Pétain, when this could be done. So far as I am aware no formal discussion has taken place, and the matter cannot be regarded as decided. Further, I feel sure that the War Cabinet would not think of deciding such a question without first obtaining Sir Douglas Haig's views. I am replying to him in the above sense."

That, I think, was on the 19th of October. The War Cabinet fully approved of the communication. Sir Douglas Haig communicated, and said that it threw a new light on the Boulogne position. I think that we have a right to complain of the way in which it has been rumored about that Sir Douglas Haig protested.

The fact that Sir William Robertson had explained and Sir Douglas Haig had stated that the explanation threw new light has never been repeated. That is how mischief is done.

On Oct. 24 this question was first formally discussed by the War Cabinet. There was further pressure from the French Government, and Sir William Robertson gave his views as to the time which the British Government ought to take, and this conclusion is recorded in the minutes of the War Cabinet as follows:

"The War Cabinet approve of the suggestion of the Chief of the Imperial Staff that he should reply to Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig in the following sense: The War Cabinet are of the opinion that in deciding to what extent the British troops can take over the line from the French regard must be had to the necessity of giving them a reasonable opportunity for leave, rest, and training during the Winter months and to the plan of operations for the next year, and, further, while the present offensive continues it will not be possible to commence taking over more line.

"Under these circumstances the War Cabinet fear that until this policy is settled it will be premature to decide finally whether the British front is to be extended by four divisions or to greater or lesser extent."

The resolution was communicated to Sir Douglas Haig by Sir William Robertson, and we never departed from it. After that came the Cambrai incident and the Italian disaster, which necessitated our sending troops to Italy. That made it difficult for the Field Marshal to carry out the promise he made to General Pétain for a certain extension of the front. Then the present French Prime Minister came in, and he is not a very easy gentleman to refuse. He was very insistent that the British Army should take over the line.

We stood by the position that that was a matter to be discussed by the two Commanders in Chief. We never swerved from that position. At last M. Clemenceau suggested that the question should be discussed by the military representatives at Versailles, and that the Versailles Council should decide if there was any difference of opinion. The military representatives discussed the question, and the only interference of the War Cabinet was to this extent. We communicated with the Chief of Staff, who was then in France, and with Sir Douglas Haig to urge on them the importance of preparing their case for the other side so as to make the strongest possible case for the British view.

The military representatives at Versailles suggested a compromise, but coupled with it recommendations as to steps which ought to be taken by the French Army to assist the British if they were attacked, and by the British to assist the French if they were attacked, which was even a more important question than the extension of the front.

That recommendation came up for discussion at the Versailles Council of Feb. 1. Before that meeting Sir Douglas Haig and General Pétain met and entered into an agreement as to the extension of the front to Brissy, and Sir Douglas Haig reported that to the Versailles Council. When the discussion took place there no further extension of the line was taken at all as a result of the discussion.

That is the whole story. I was to make it perfectly clear that in the action Sir Douglas Haig took for the extension of the line he had the full approval of the British Cabinet, having regard to the pressure of the French Government and military authorities. Sir Douglas Haig had no option except to make the extension. He was in our judgment absolutely right in the course he took. Naturally, he would have preferred not to have done it, but the British Government fully approved of the action he took.

The real lesson of the discussion is the importance of unity of command. It would never have arisen if you had had that. Instead of one army and one commander responsible for one part of the line, and another army and another commander responsible for another part of the line, we have one united command responsible for the whole and every part. It was the only method of safety, and I am glad we have it at last.

It was not so much a question of the length of the line held by one force or the length held by another. It was a question of reserves massed behind.

The Premier ended with a plea for a truce to political "sniping." On May 13 it was announced that as a disciplinary measure General Maurice had been placed on "the retired list."

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