The statements which follow, and which were made to me while I was a prisoner of war in Germany, are not from picked soldiers who happened to have sensational stories. They were the only men whom I met who were prisoners in the early days.
Being blind myself, I could not, of course, see the men I was speaking to, but their tone impressed me very much as being men who had suffered in silence.
It was necessary for me to study very carefully what they said and impress it on my memory; and I have committed their statements to writing immediately on my release, for to carry written statements over the frontier was entirely out of the question.
I have put down nothing which was not told to me; neither have I tried to embellish or enlarge upon the statements made, or frame the wordsof the men in any way that might give an exaggerated impression of what occurred.
It is quite possible, however, that one or two incidents which I have reported from one man may be part of the story of one of the others. But it can be taken as an absolute fact that, taken as a whole, the statements are a true recital of these men's own description of their experience.
The men were in no way excited. I obtained the information when chatting in the ordinary way over a pipe of tobacco, whenever the men had an opportunity of coming to my room to have a chat.
The Story of Private ——, West Kent Regiment"I was captured at Mons, sir. Been here over two years now. Things are not so bad now as they were at first."I've seen some things which I shan't easily forget. I've been keeping them to myself because we dare not talk of them."Some of the fellows have had a terrible time. When the war is over any German who is met in England by any prisoners of war will have arough passage. There won't be any need to hold ourselves back any longer. My goodness, sir, they'll never get away alive!"Not long after I was captured 70 English soldiers were taken away from the Lager one day. They never knew where they were going. They were taken to a munition factory; and when they found out where they were they passed the word along to refuse to work."When the Germans told them what they had to do, they refused. Their guards threatened them, and said it would be the worse for them if they didn't; but they wouldn't budge."Then they were taken out and made to stand in a row against a wall; and a firing-party was drawn up in front of them with loaded rifles, but not one of them flinched."They were told that unless they went to work they would be shot, and although the firing-party was standing in front of them not one of them would budge."The threat was not carried out, and they were sent back to the Lager."Before we started getting parcels we had a terrible time trying to live on the food they gaveus. All they gave us was a cup of coffee and two slices of black bread in the morning; and for dinner and supper a basin of hot potato water. It was so thin and weak it was just like water that potatoes had been boiled in."
"I was captured at Mons, sir. Been here over two years now. Things are not so bad now as they were at first.
"I've seen some things which I shan't easily forget. I've been keeping them to myself because we dare not talk of them.
"Some of the fellows have had a terrible time. When the war is over any German who is met in England by any prisoners of war will have arough passage. There won't be any need to hold ourselves back any longer. My goodness, sir, they'll never get away alive!
"Not long after I was captured 70 English soldiers were taken away from the Lager one day. They never knew where they were going. They were taken to a munition factory; and when they found out where they were they passed the word along to refuse to work.
"When the Germans told them what they had to do, they refused. Their guards threatened them, and said it would be the worse for them if they didn't; but they wouldn't budge.
"Then they were taken out and made to stand in a row against a wall; and a firing-party was drawn up in front of them with loaded rifles, but not one of them flinched.
"They were told that unless they went to work they would be shot, and although the firing-party was standing in front of them not one of them would budge.
"The threat was not carried out, and they were sent back to the Lager.
"Before we started getting parcels we had a terrible time trying to live on the food they gaveus. All they gave us was a cup of coffee and two slices of black bread in the morning; and for dinner and supper a basin of hot potato water. It was so thin and weak it was just like water that potatoes had been boiled in."
The soldier whose statement is given above has since been exchanged to Switzerland, owing to an injury to his sight, caused by the work he was employed upon while a prisoner.
The Story of Private —— of the Leicester Regiment"I was captured during the retreat in August, 1914."My Company was left behind as a rear-guard, to enable the rest of the battalion to get away. Our trench was only about two feet deep. Although the Germans were coming on very fast and in enormous numbers, we were not allowed to retire."The Germans charged us three times. We lost all our officers, and although we kept on fighting they came on in such large numbers it must have been the main body, for they were allround us, and most of the fellows were killed or wounded."They had their revenge on us, too, when they got us, for the German soldiers who were told to look after us did terrible things. They took us one by one and made us run the gauntlet."I was bruised all over when I got through, and so were the other fellows."One chap when he was running the gauntlet was struck in the face by the butt of a rifle; his nose was smashed and his face covered in blood, and he fell to the ground insensible. They threw him in a ditch, because they thought he was dead; but he was able to crawl out next morning."It was awful, that first night, and they didn't know what to do with us. They made us stand the whole night through in a loose wire entanglement, so that we couldn't walk about or sit down; and it rained like anything all night long."Then we were put in cattle trucks and sent into Germany, and for the first two days they did not give us any food or water."On the second day we stopped at a station and a woman came towards us with a large canof soup, and we thought we were going to be fed; but she brought it right up to us, and said: 'Ugh, dirty Englanders,' and poured it on to the line."I was taken to Soltau Lager; and the food they gave us consisted of a cup of acorn coffee in the morning and a small piece of black bread, which had to last all day, and wouldn't make more than two good slices."For dinner we got a basin of very thin potato soup; sometimes we got a potato in it, and sometimes we didn't. For supper we got a cup of coffee, and we were supposed to make the bread do for both breakfast and supper."The prisoners were sent out from Soltau in working parties to farmers, factories, and coal mines and salt mines. The salt mines were dreaded most, and fellows who had been working there for two or three months looked dreadful. In fact, they could not keep up there longer than that; they got too ill."I was sent into a salt mine myself. The hours are not long, because it is impossible to stay down many hours at a time, and we were generally brought up about one o'clock. They did not keepme in the mine long, because they found I was of no use for the work."It's not so bad on the farms, although you have to work from about 4 o'clock till 8 or 9 at night. But the food is better, as you generally live at the farmer's table, and have the same as he does."When prisoners are sent in working parties, the employers have to pay the German Government the same wages he usually pays a man, and the prisoners receive from the German Government 30 pfennings (about 3d.) per day.""Did the American Consul ever visit the lager?" I asked."Yes, but only once when I was there.""Were you free to make any complaints to him if you wished?""Two of the fellows did; but they got punished for it."Before he visited the lager a notice was put up that the Commandant did not consider there was any reason for complaint, and any man making a complaint would be given 14 days' imprisonment."When he called we were drawn up on paradein four companies, and stood to attention, while he passed down the line, asking if there were any complaints."By his side was the Commandant and another German officer."
"I was captured during the retreat in August, 1914.
"My Company was left behind as a rear-guard, to enable the rest of the battalion to get away. Our trench was only about two feet deep. Although the Germans were coming on very fast and in enormous numbers, we were not allowed to retire.
"The Germans charged us three times. We lost all our officers, and although we kept on fighting they came on in such large numbers it must have been the main body, for they were allround us, and most of the fellows were killed or wounded.
"They had their revenge on us, too, when they got us, for the German soldiers who were told to look after us did terrible things. They took us one by one and made us run the gauntlet.
"I was bruised all over when I got through, and so were the other fellows.
"One chap when he was running the gauntlet was struck in the face by the butt of a rifle; his nose was smashed and his face covered in blood, and he fell to the ground insensible. They threw him in a ditch, because they thought he was dead; but he was able to crawl out next morning.
"It was awful, that first night, and they didn't know what to do with us. They made us stand the whole night through in a loose wire entanglement, so that we couldn't walk about or sit down; and it rained like anything all night long.
"Then we were put in cattle trucks and sent into Germany, and for the first two days they did not give us any food or water.
"On the second day we stopped at a station and a woman came towards us with a large canof soup, and we thought we were going to be fed; but she brought it right up to us, and said: 'Ugh, dirty Englanders,' and poured it on to the line.
"I was taken to Soltau Lager; and the food they gave us consisted of a cup of acorn coffee in the morning and a small piece of black bread, which had to last all day, and wouldn't make more than two good slices.
"For dinner we got a basin of very thin potato soup; sometimes we got a potato in it, and sometimes we didn't. For supper we got a cup of coffee, and we were supposed to make the bread do for both breakfast and supper.
"The prisoners were sent out from Soltau in working parties to farmers, factories, and coal mines and salt mines. The salt mines were dreaded most, and fellows who had been working there for two or three months looked dreadful. In fact, they could not keep up there longer than that; they got too ill.
"I was sent into a salt mine myself. The hours are not long, because it is impossible to stay down many hours at a time, and we were generally brought up about one o'clock. They did not keepme in the mine long, because they found I was of no use for the work.
"It's not so bad on the farms, although you have to work from about 4 o'clock till 8 or 9 at night. But the food is better, as you generally live at the farmer's table, and have the same as he does.
"When prisoners are sent in working parties, the employers have to pay the German Government the same wages he usually pays a man, and the prisoners receive from the German Government 30 pfennings (about 3d.) per day."
"Did the American Consul ever visit the lager?" I asked.
"Yes, but only once when I was there."
"Were you free to make any complaints to him if you wished?"
"Two of the fellows did; but they got punished for it.
"Before he visited the lager a notice was put up that the Commandant did not consider there was any reason for complaint, and any man making a complaint would be given 14 days' imprisonment.
"When he called we were drawn up on paradein four companies, and stood to attention, while he passed down the line, asking if there were any complaints.
"By his side was the Commandant and another German officer."
The Story of Private —— of the Norfolk Regiment"I came out with the original Expeditionary Force, and was in the retreat from Mons, but was not captured until October, 1914."The German soldiers who captured me treated me quite well. They gave me some of their rations, and allowed me to attend to our wounded."I had just bandaged up the leg of a man in the Cheshire Regiment, who had half his foot blown off, when all the prisoners were ordered to the rear."A German officer came up and ordered us both to get back; but I pointed out that the Cheshire man was too badly wounded to be moved without help. He ordered me to undo the bandage, and when he saw the condition of the wound, he drew his revolver and shot him dead. He then ordered me to get back."We were then sent into Germany, and when we stopped at the Railway Stations school children were paraded on the platform and threw things at us."We were given nothing to eat, and at one station we appealed to a clergyman, who spoke English; but he said that only German soldiers should be fed, and turned away."I was sent to Hameln Lager. I was several times sent out with working parties, and we were sometimes treated very roughly, especially when there was only an under officer in charge of us."The job I liked best was working for a farmer. Sometimes you get hold of a decent chap, who will treat you well, if you suit him. The work is hard and the hours very long, but you live with the family, and food is much better than what you get in camp; especially as some of the farmers have food concealed."The under officers are very rough, and stop at nothing."There was a notice up in the lager which said that no man has any right to refuse to work, and that only the laws of the Imperial German Government were recognised; and if any man refusedto do what he was told, the guards had authority to use their rifles.""Did they ever use them?" I asked."I never saw them myself; but a man came into the lager one day who said that just before he was moved one of the men was being badgered about by his guards, until he at last turned round and knocked one down. The guards immediately ran their bayonets into him, and he died next day."The American Consul visited our camp shortly afterwards, and this man told him about it, and was informed the matter was already known, and was being investigated. I do not know if anything came of it."Another little trick which they used to employ to force men to work in the mines and other places was to take them out one by one under an armed guard. The rest of us would hear a shot fired, and then they would take another; a shot would be fired, and so on. But we soon got on to that, because we found it was a fake."About 100 men were taken away from the lager in the early part of the war to work in a factory, but when they found it was a munition factory they refused to work. They were eachsentenced to twelve or fifteen months' imprisonment. I know this for a fact, because I have spoken to the men. They were very badly treated, and one of them is in hospital to-day, insane."
"I came out with the original Expeditionary Force, and was in the retreat from Mons, but was not captured until October, 1914.
"The German soldiers who captured me treated me quite well. They gave me some of their rations, and allowed me to attend to our wounded.
"I had just bandaged up the leg of a man in the Cheshire Regiment, who had half his foot blown off, when all the prisoners were ordered to the rear.
"A German officer came up and ordered us both to get back; but I pointed out that the Cheshire man was too badly wounded to be moved without help. He ordered me to undo the bandage, and when he saw the condition of the wound, he drew his revolver and shot him dead. He then ordered me to get back.
"We were then sent into Germany, and when we stopped at the Railway Stations school children were paraded on the platform and threw things at us.
"We were given nothing to eat, and at one station we appealed to a clergyman, who spoke English; but he said that only German soldiers should be fed, and turned away.
"I was sent to Hameln Lager. I was several times sent out with working parties, and we were sometimes treated very roughly, especially when there was only an under officer in charge of us.
"The job I liked best was working for a farmer. Sometimes you get hold of a decent chap, who will treat you well, if you suit him. The work is hard and the hours very long, but you live with the family, and food is much better than what you get in camp; especially as some of the farmers have food concealed.
"The under officers are very rough, and stop at nothing.
"There was a notice up in the lager which said that no man has any right to refuse to work, and that only the laws of the Imperial German Government were recognised; and if any man refusedto do what he was told, the guards had authority to use their rifles."
"Did they ever use them?" I asked.
"I never saw them myself; but a man came into the lager one day who said that just before he was moved one of the men was being badgered about by his guards, until he at last turned round and knocked one down. The guards immediately ran their bayonets into him, and he died next day.
"The American Consul visited our camp shortly afterwards, and this man told him about it, and was informed the matter was already known, and was being investigated. I do not know if anything came of it.
"Another little trick which they used to employ to force men to work in the mines and other places was to take them out one by one under an armed guard. The rest of us would hear a shot fired, and then they would take another; a shot would be fired, and so on. But we soon got on to that, because we found it was a fake.
"About 100 men were taken away from the lager in the early part of the war to work in a factory, but when they found it was a munition factory they refused to work. They were eachsentenced to twelve or fifteen months' imprisonment. I know this for a fact, because I have spoken to the men. They were very badly treated, and one of them is in hospital to-day, insane."
The Story of Private —— of the Middlesex Regiment, Told Me in Blenhurst Camp"I was at Soltau Lager for a long time before we came here. We used to get one loaf of black bread a day (2 lbs.) between 10 men. The only food we got was some sort of coffee for breakfast, and the same for supper. For dinner we had a basin of soup, which was almost undrinkable, some thin washy stuff; occasionally we got some potatoes."In the early part of the war there were about 60 of our fellows sent to work in a munition factory. But when they got there and saw what they had to do, they refused. They were threatened with all kinds of things to make them work, and then they were lined up against a wall, and a number of German soldiers stood in front of them, and told them that if they didn't work, theywould be shot. Then they made a show of loading, and brought their rifles up to the shoulders. When our men still refused they were taken into a building and locked up two or three in a room; and left there for 3 or 4 days without food or water or convenience of any kind."I asked Private —— if he was quite sure of this statement and the length of time, as the men would be reduced to a state of absolute starvation."I am quite sure about it," he said, "and as for the men being starved, I can only tell you that they were found curled up on the floor, gnawing at their finger-nails."When the Commandant let them out he said he was going to send them back to their lager, as he admired their pluck, and didn't think Englishmen had so much in them."
"I was at Soltau Lager for a long time before we came here. We used to get one loaf of black bread a day (2 lbs.) between 10 men. The only food we got was some sort of coffee for breakfast, and the same for supper. For dinner we had a basin of soup, which was almost undrinkable, some thin washy stuff; occasionally we got some potatoes.
"In the early part of the war there were about 60 of our fellows sent to work in a munition factory. But when they got there and saw what they had to do, they refused. They were threatened with all kinds of things to make them work, and then they were lined up against a wall, and a number of German soldiers stood in front of them, and told them that if they didn't work, theywould be shot. Then they made a show of loading, and brought their rifles up to the shoulders. When our men still refused they were taken into a building and locked up two or three in a room; and left there for 3 or 4 days without food or water or convenience of any kind."
I asked Private —— if he was quite sure of this statement and the length of time, as the men would be reduced to a state of absolute starvation.
"I am quite sure about it," he said, "and as for the men being starved, I can only tell you that they were found curled up on the floor, gnawing at their finger-nails.
"When the Commandant let them out he said he was going to send them back to their lager, as he admired their pluck, and didn't think Englishmen had so much in them."
We looked forward to the journey with a great deal of pleasure, not that I could see where I was going, but the sensation of travelling was a pleasant change.
We had about half an hour to wait for our train at the station, to the intense interest of a crowd of 60 or 70 peasants, who gathered around us and gazed in open-mouthed wonder.
As a matter of fact I was quite unaware that we were the centre of attraction. I thought we were standing quite alone. It is not a disadvantage to be blind sometimes.
We had a guard with us of one soldier with a revolver in his belt, which no doubt was fully loaded, though we did not trouble him to prove it.
We were placed in a very comfortablesecond-class carriage, quite equal to an English first-class carriage. German officers also appear to travel second class; and on all the journeys I made in Germany, I was always treated on an equality in this respect.
Half-way through the journey we had to change, and had to wait about three-quarters of an hour for a connection. We were glad of this, as we were looking forward to a meal in the station restaurant. But we were doomed to disappointment. On entering the restaurant there were plenty of tables and chairs, but to all appearances nothing to eat.
We sat down at a table in company with our escort, and Wishart went over to the counter to order a hot meal, but could not make himself understood. After energetically ordering every dish he could think of, including eggs and bacon, and emphasising his wishes by violent gesticulations, he returned unhappily to the table and sought the assistance of the guard, who was made to understand that in England the object of entering a restaurant is for the purpose of getting something to eat.
We were finally provided with a cup of coffee,a piece of cheese, and a slice of very stale and uninteresting bread.
We arrived at Osnabruck station at about 9P.M., and were placed in a four-wheel cab, our guards sitting opposite us, with another soldier, who met us at the station, sitting on the box seat, thus attracting the attention of the passers-by and conjecture as to the distinguished occupants of the cab, whose cigars by this time were unfortunately exhausted.
We had a drive of about four miles, for Osnabruck camp is situated on the outskirts of the town; and we were greeted on arrival by a request from the cabby for ten marks.
After having been in daily expectation of a voyage to England, my arrival at Osnabruck camp gave me a fit of the blues; and I felt like one who enters a prison to undergo a term of penal servitude.
We knocked at the outer gate, which was securely locked, and were challenged by a sentry, who was answered by our guard. There was really no need to challenge us, for as far as Wishart and I were concerned, we were perfectly willing to remain outside the domain of his authority.
We heard a clatter of rifles, as the guard was turned out to welcome our visit, and after an examination of our papers to make sure that we had the right to enter, we were marched across the courtyard and stopped before a very large door. More knocking and a noise as of bolts being drawn back, and we entered the building.
As the door was closed and bolted behind me, I felt like one who was losing his freedom for ever in the dungeons of a mighty fortress.
We were led into the canteen, and the canteen manager supplied us with a cup of tea and a slice of bread and margarine—the margarine being a rare luxury for a prison camp.
We were next taken into an office and searched and our money exchanged for canteen money. This precaution is always taken, so that if a prisoner escapes he is not likely to have any negotiable money upon him.
I thought the soldiers who searched us were very fair, for seeing I was blind, they allowed Wishart to see exactly the money I had upon me, so that there could be no dispute. As a matter of fact I handed out the money myself.
They did not search me, but asked me if I had anything on me which should be given up, and now I come to think of it, although others were always rigorously searched, I do not ever remember having been searched myself. They always took my word for it; perhaps it was because I was blind and they thought I was harmless.
We were then taken up to a room on the second floor. Doctor Pohlmann was as good as his word, and a room for three was provided, Rogan being in possession.
Osnabruck camp is part of a cavalry barracks, and the accommodation, therefore, is what one would expect in English barracks, and quite suitable for soldiers.
The rooms are comfortable; there is a small stove with coal provided, and the furniture consists of camp-beds with two blankets each, a chest of drawers and a small table and chair. Some of the rooms contain as many as seven beds, but the rooms are fairly large and do not appear to be overcrowded.
Doctor Pohlmann told us that the camp boasted, among other attractions, a billiard-room. Probably he was right, but he must haveforgotten to add that there was no billiard-table or other article of furniture in it.
A large room was set aside for the British prisoners, and another for the Russian prisoners; these were furnished at the prisoners' expense with a piano and card-tables, and used as anterooms. The British anteroom, however, never seemed popular, as the officers preferred their own living-rooms, which were warmer.
The French had no anteroom, although I think they could have secured one had they desired it.
There were about 250 prisoners in the building, about 200 of whom were Russian and French.
There was a canteen, where almost everything but food could be obtained. The beer was not bad, and fairly cheap; but the only other drinks obtainable were a yellow fluid and a reddish fluid, which was given by the canteen manager the humorous description of sherry and port wine.
He was a wise man, that canteen manager, for under what strategical device could he have extracted one mark per glass from his customers, and at the same time supply a "have another" atmosphere to his establishment? But he was a good fellow, and added greatly to the comfortof the officers (and to the comfort of his own banking-account).
You could buy anything from him (except food), from a toothpick (which he never caused us to need) to a grand piano (which he did not keep in stock).
He would purchase on commission, and the latter part of the purchase he gave particular attention to. But he sought custom, and it made him civil and obliging. He would supply you with a kettle of boiling water for 5 pfennigs; or, for a larger consideration, would cook the pheasant which came in your last parcel.
The grounds outside the building were very small, although just before I left a field was thrown open, where the officers could kick a ball about. There were also two tennis-courts built by the officers.
The picture does not seem an unpleasant one; and I do not think the officers imprisoned there ever complain of their treatment. But if it were a marble palace, that would not alter the fact that it was a prisoners' camp; and two hours was about as long as anybody would stay without being bored.
If the description I have given leaves the impression that the prisoners have a good time in such seclusion, a stroll around the building a few times, avoiding the barbed wire; or a few nights' sleep disturbed by the frequent challenge of the sentry and the barking of the watch-dogs would disillusion them, and make them realise what it means to feel the strong fetters of captivity.
In England we treat German officers very liberally; and if we ever allow this to arouse our indignation, we should pause to remember that this generous treatment has induced the German authorities to grant favours to British officers.
Our officers, for instance, on signing a parole, are allowed once or twice each week to go for a long country walk in company with only one German officer; and this privilege is at any rate worth an equal amount of consideration being shown towards the German officers in England.
A medical officer is present each morning, and if it is necessary to attend hospital, or the dentist, or if you have permission to go down for any other purpose, you are allowed the privilege of hiring a conveyance for what the cabby probably flatters himself is a moderate charge; but if youdo not wish to pay for this privilege, you can walk—in the gutter.
The dentist was not a popular man to visit, although a prisoner is often tempted to sacrifice a tooth in order to enjoy the privilege of a ride down-town. But he was apt to use his professional skill as an instrument to his patriotic ardour, and appeared to aspire to the removal of the jaw instead of the tooth.
During the time I was at Osnabruck, there was a good commandant in charge. He was a gentleman, fair-minded, and considerate, notwithstanding the fact that he was a professional soldier of the old school.
When I speak of the old school, it leads me to express an opinion that the brutalities perpetrated upon our soldiers who fell into their hands in the early part of the war were due to professional military hatred more than to popular intention. At the commencement of the war, the professional German soldier seemed to be imbued with the sole idea, which was no doubt fostered by the system of training, to get to England, and satisfy his hunger by murder and pillage; and the first prisoners who saved the people ofthis country by their heroic self-sacrifice received the first experience of their intentions.
My contention is borne out by the fact that these brutalities are not practised to-day in anything like the same degree, for the old army has become more or less extinct, and a new army of civilians has taken its place. With the exception, perhaps, of certain elements of the higher commands, there is a decreasing element of the "top dog" spirit, and an undercurrent of feeling that it may not be wise to be too overbearing.
To-day it is the German civilian fighting the British civilian, and the German who has a home, family, and business has not the same hatred as his professional predecessor.
The German professional soldier is unapproachable; but the German civilian soldiers seemed reasonable and anxious for peace, and even to deplore the domineering authority which compelled him to take up arms.
At Osnabruck the roll-call was made by the officers simply parading outside of their respective rooms and coming to the salute as the German officer passed him, and he, in passing by, would answer the salute. The morning roll-callwas at 9A.M., so at one minute to nine it was necessary to tumble out of bed.
The curious raiment frequently donned more with a view to speed than dignity prompted an order being issued that officers should parade fully dressed. The ingenuity of the British soldier, however, could soon overcome a requirement of this kind. One minute to nine still prevailed, but the wearing of overcoats for early morning roll-call grew in popularity.
I was very much impressed with the fair and systematic handling of our parcels, letters, and money; and even letters and post-cards which arrived for me after I had been sent back to England were readdressed and sent back. A remittance of five pounds, which arrived for me after I had left was even returned to me in England, instead of being applied to the pressing need of the German War Loan.
Letters are distributed each morning. Parcels arrive on Mondays and Thursdays, and a list is made out and sent round the same afternoon, from which each prisoner can ascertain the number of parcels awaiting him. He thereupon appears at an appointed hour the following day to receivehis parcels, which are opened by the German censor in his presence.
All tin food has to be opened, but if it is not required for immediate consumption, it is placed unopened in a locker, and he can draw what he requires on any day he wishes to use it.
The American Express Company was permitted to cash officers' cheques through the paymaster, who kept a proper account of the debits and credits against each prisoner; so that he could draw money at any time from the funds standing to his credit. These accounts were kept in a very businesslike manner, and a prisoner was permitted to go into the paymaster's office and examine his books whenever he wished. I know of at least one instance in which a prisoner had been permitted to overdraw his account.
The prisoners spent most of their time at Osnabruck in playing tennis, football, walking up and down the yard, learning French or Russian, playing cards, or reading.
The books which prisoners receive from time to time from England are passed round, thus forming a sort of circulating library.
In living a life of this kind one cannot help butdevelop the habits of school-days, and become boyish in many things.
One lives for letters and parcels. It is not the length of letters or size of parcels which count so much as the number; and when the parcel list comes round, he is a lucky fellow who finds four or five parcels awaiting him, even though their total contents amount to no more than that of the man who receives a single parcel.
On Tuesdays and Fridays the number of parcels was an absorbing topic, and one would turn to another in schoolboy fashion, and say:
"How many parcels have you got to-day?"
"Only one—how many have you?"
"Six."
"Lucky devil!"
In each room the men throw their parcels into one mess, and share alike; and if a new prisoner arrives, who would not be receiving parcels, he shares with the others in his room.
If several prisoners just arriving are put in a room by themselves, they do not, of course, fare so well, and until their parcels arrive, many weeks later, they are more or less dependent upon the food issued to them; although presents of foodare frequently sent in by the others, and articles of clothing are loaned.
The charge made to the prisoners for food was forty-five marks per month. We were afterwards informed that by a new regulation the charge, by some international arrangement, had to be reduced to thirty marks per month. And the commandant explained that for this sum he could only supply the same ration which the men received; but would continue to supply the old ration if the officers would voluntarily agree to continue paying forty-five marks, and extra for their bread—which, of course, they did.
This ration consisted of imitation coffee for breakfast and no food. A plate of washy stuff called soup, for dinner, followed by some sloppy mashed potatoes, and sometimes green stuff; and for supper, more sloppy potatoes.
To satisfy one's hunger on a cold day with such food—which is only fit for pigs—can only be done by loosening the waistcoat, and half an hour afterwards one feels as though he had never had a meal.
Prisoners were allowed to receive as many letters as they were lucky enough to have sentthem; and there does not appear to be any restriction as to the length of the letter.
They are allowed to write two letters of four pages each, and four post-cards each month. All letters are censored by a staff of censors in the camp. Outgoing letters and post-cards are held for ten days, with a view of ascertaining, I believe, whether invisible ink had been used.
News arrives in the camp principally by the arrival of new prisoners, who are kept in quarantine for about ten days.
German official bulletins are posted in the anteroom; and theContinental News, which is published in the English language, or rather disgraces the English language by using it, is delivered daily. By the bye, theContinental Newsis a rag of the worst kind, and contains lies of the worst description.
My orderly came to me one day, and after carefully closing the door, he drew from under his tunic a few scraps of an English newspaper a month old.
We devoured the news eagerly, as well as the advertisements, and passed it quietly around to the other officers.
He had been sweeping up the canteen after the censor had finished opening up the parcels. One parcel had been wrapped up in the newspaper, and unthinkingly the censor overlooked it, and tore the paper into fragments and threw it on the floor.
My orderly, while sweeping, noticed the pieces on the floor. The censor was in the room, and he went on sweeping until, when the censor's head was turned, he stooped and, snatching it up, stuffed it into his tunic.
When I arrived at Osnabruck, I found three English orderlies, and to my surprise and delight, two were men of my own regiment who had been captured at Gommecourt Wood on July 1.
The commandant came up to visit me the following morning, something very unusual; but no blind prisoner had ever been confined within the walls of Osnabruck before, and I suppose I was an object of interest.
I heard Rogan say, "Commandant," and click his heels.
I stood up and saluted. I was turned around, for, unknowingly, I had gravely saluted the wall.
He spoke fairly good English:
"You quite blind?"
"Yes, quite."
"See no light—nothing, no?"
"Nothing whatever."
"Your health, vot, is your health goot—yah?"
"Very weak and shaky; I cannot sleep at night."
"Is there anything you want?"
"There are two orderlies here from my own regiment. Can I have one as my personal attendant? Otherwise I am helpless; I am not yet accustomed to blindness, and among so many people and in strange surroundings, I shall become a nuisance."
"Yah; I will make arrangements."
That was how I came to get Private Cotton as my orderly. Cotton was a fine lad; a well-educated, superior type of fellow, and we became very much attached to each other during those long, dreary days.
He could speak French, and although he could speak no German, he possessed that wonderful faculty peculiar to the private soldier, of understanding and making himself understood in a language he did not know.
He had been a civil servant in the War Office; but in the early part of the war had volunteered his services with the colours, and fought night and day in the trenches for a shilling a day; while the young man who took his place in the War Office drew one and sixpence an hour overtime after 4 o'clock. Yet Cotton never complained. But his duty was the other man's opportunity.
As I write these lines Cotton is still a prisoner. I wonder if the other man is still drawing overtime, and wearing a war-service badge?
Now Cotton was a gentleman both by birth and education; but he was a private soldier, and seemed to make a hobby of being one. He was a private, and I was a captain, and he insisted on that gulf being maintained.
Whenever he bade me good-night, after he had laid me in my bed and made me some cocoa—generally from his own supplies, for my parcels went astray—I could always hear him click his heels, and I knew he had saluted.
The second day after I had arrived at Osnabruck, he took me for exercise up and down the yard outside the canteen. This was my first appearance, and I was evidently an object ofsome curiosity, for wind had got round the camp that a blind prisoner had been brought in.
As the French officers passed me, I used to hear them say: "Good morning, Capitaine," or "Bon jour, mon camarade."
The English officers were splendid and always anxious to help me, and many a welcome supper of cocoa and cake I used to have in their rooms before going to bed.
I am afraid, though, that I used to make rather a big meal of it, as for the first two weeks I had to exist on the German rations.
When I took my first walk in the yard the canteen manager, his wife, and daughter were evidently watching out for me; for by and by, as a sign of their good-will, the daughter came running out after me with a present. It was an egg!
Cotton and I had a serious talk about this egg. He thought I should save it, and have half for supper and half for breakfast; but I settled the matter by eating it at once.
I think I have forgotten to mention that we were allowed to buy for half a mark, a loaf of bread every five days. I had no idea how fara loaf would go; I had never before given it a thought.
But Cotton had it down to a science; and worked it out that two small slices for breakfast, and the same for supper would carry me through, and he kept me to it.
"Cotton," I would say, after I had breakfasted on the two slices, "I could eat another slice."
"Better not, sir."
"Why not, Cotton? It's my loaf."
"This is the fourth day, sir, and if you have another slice, there will only be a small piece of crust for to-morrow's breakfast."
"All right, Cotton, I will sleep to dinner-time instead."
It was a joyful day when my first parcels arrived in camp. I was too excited about it to eat alone that day; and I invited young Martell of the R.N.A.S. to come and dine with me in my room.
There was a tin of soup and a tin of tripe and onions, and some biscuits and cheese. What a banquet! Martell and I decided to do ourselves in style. We even went so far as to send Cotton to the canteen for two glasses of what weindulgently patronised the canteen manager's humour by calling port wine.
Martell cooked the tripe and onions, after opening the tin with his penknife, and boiled it on the stove. The more we thought of that meal, the more we schemed to make a spread of it.
Cotton, too, rose to the occasion. From the canteen he obtained a sheet of white paper for a table-cloth, and by the side of each plate he placed a clean white handkerchief for serviettes.
The table was just a little rough, wooden one, about two feet square. The room was swept and the beds made to give the room a tidy appearance, and then we sat down.
Yes, Cotton understood. He knew that that meal was taking our thoughts back to England. It was taking him back, too. He knew that we imagined we were back again in the mess; and he imagined the same thing himself.
In that little room, and in the presence of that tin of tripe and onions we forgot we were prisoners; we forgot that rows and rows of barbed wire bound us in captivity; we ignored thefootsteps of the sentry pacing up and down outside our window, and the sharp yelping of the dogs.
We were back in the mess, and we chatted and laughed during the meal as we had done in the old days, while our spirits rose with the aroma of the tripe and onion; and Cotton stood behind me silent and attentive, removing the plates, washing them, and replacing them ready for the next course, pretending he was drawing plates from a well-filled pantry.
We finished our repast with biscuits and cheese, and then we solemnly stood, and raising our glasses, toasted the King.
Then we drew our chairs round the fire, and heating the coffee which was left over from breakfast, we bathed our thoughts in the aroma of two cigars which Cotton had thoughtfully provided for the occasion from the canteen.
Yes, people of England, living at home in luxury, by the protection of a thin line of khaki; when you become anxious at the prospect of one meatless day per week, try living for a fortnight on slops, and then appreciate the glories of a tin of tripe and onions.
Still, one can live on slops, and improve a mealby a vivid imagination. In fact, imagination is a distinct advantage when sitting down hungrily to a plate of thin watery soup and sloppy potatoes for dinner.
When the door used to open and Cotton appeared with this unsavoury repast, which was always the same each day, I would say to him in the most indifferent tone I could assume:
"Well, Cotton, what kind of soup is it to-day?"
"Well, sir; I really don't know. It might be anything; it looks like hot water."
"Why, my dear Cotton, this soup is salt. How dull you are! There must have been a battle in the North Sea!"
"How do you know that, sir?"
"It's the way the Germans have. This soup is hot sea-water; it is to celebrate a victory."
The next day there would be a slight difference in the soup, and again Cotton would gravely shake his head, unable to fathom its mystery.
"My dear Cotton, when will you learn to gather information from your rations by a method of deduction?"
"Has there been another battle in the North Sea, sir?"
"No, my dear Cotton, the soup is thicker; the German fleet is back in the Kiel Canal."
It was the beginning of the third week of my sojourn in Osnabruck, when I was told one day that I was to proceed next morning to Blenhorst camp to appear before the Swiss Commission. Three other officers were also to go, including Rogan.
Cotton was to accompany me, and we made great preparation for the journey, packing in a tin box biscuits and cheese, chocolate and sardines; for although an officer is charged just the same for his full day's ration, the Germans have a habit of sending him on a long day's journey without food.
We started off at about 6 o'clock the next morning in high glee; for whatever the result of the Swiss Commission might be, there was the journey to Blenhorst to break the monotony of Osnabruck.
We had to change trains several times, and in the station restaurants we had much the same experience as I have described on my journey from Hanover.
In one restaurant we could only obtain a sliceof ham as thin as tissue-paper, and in another a very small sausage; and yet the German people we passed in the streets had no appearance of being short of food, or suffering any hardships in this respect. The people in the streets, I understand, looked just as contented and well fed as the people in England.
The station for Blenhorst is about eight miles from the camp. A large flat, open lorry was sent to meet us to carry our baggage, but as our belongings were for the most part carried in our pockets, it was unnecessary for that purpose.
It then dawned upon our two guards, who had no more desire to walk than we had, that we might ride on the lorry ourselves. They obtained a form to hold four, and we four officers occupied this seat on the open lorry, Cotton sitting on the floor, while the two guards sat together behind us, with their feet dangling over the side.
That ride I shall never forget. Perhaps it was because I was blind that the situation seemed so ridiculously funny. The single-horsed lorry was pulled slowly through the rough, cobbled streets in sudden jerks, which sent our legs flying in the air, giving the form a tilt; and I expectedevery minute that we would all four turn a double somersault over the heads of our guards behind, and fall into the road like clowns at a circus.
Imagine the picture, an open lorry on a bitterly cold day going through the streets of a small German town with four British officers in uniform; two with their heads bandaged, another with an arm in a sling, and a fourth with a lame leg, all sitting on a form, shivering with cold—all smoking cigars; while people came out and gazed in open-mouthed wonder at the strange spectacle; and a crowd of little urchins came running behind, yelling at the top of their voices.
All this was explained to me; and I imagined a great deal more, for the ridiculous situation could only be complete if a shower of rotten eggs were hurled at us as we passed by.
The following morning the Swiss Commission arrived, and all those who wished to appear before it were ordered to assemble in the yard.
It was a pathetic assembly, officers and men maimed and afflicted beyond repair, waited in a long queue for their turn to go in and hear their fate.
There were a number of Tommies acting asorderlies in the camp who had been prisoners since Mons. There was nothing physically the matter with them; yet the silent and hopeful manner in which they took their position in the line, knowing as they must have done, that their chances were hopeless, was most pitiful to witness.
Yet, the same men, on appearing before the Commission, and being immediately rejected, laughed and joked as they returned to their work.
The British Tommy is heroic, and rough though his language sometimes is, he is a man, and Britain is his debtor.