Short Rations.

It would be of material benefit to the interned if a representative of the United States Embassy could call at the Camp fortnightly, and receive complaints direct from prisoners, without the inevitable presence of the captains [i.e., the internees’ own captains] in the room.

Mr. Gerard replies:

A representative of this Embassy has visited the camp at Ruhleben (with the exception of the time when the camp was first formed) certainly on an average of more than once a fortnight, and it has been possible for any prisoners to speak to him without the presence of the captains. For the past few months the camp has been visited once a week if not more often. In addition to this Mr. Powell, sometimes accompanied by other captains of the camp, has visited this Embassy regularly once a week for consultation with me.

“I wish again to reiterate,” says Mr. Page, “that Count Schwerin, Baron Taube and the other officers in charge of the camp, are all kindly and considerate gentlemen, who do everything within their power to help the prisoners.”

But the real quarrel was not with Count Schwerin or Baron Taube (of whom all seem to speak well), but with the English captains and their management. The financial statements and the distributions effected by the captains are adversely criticised by the released British subject. He adds, somewhat acidly:

It would be a kindness to the captains and to the camp if the Government could convey to them a message informing them that they are public men holding important and responsible positions, and that public men must allow criticism and seek to profit by it.

Here we get to the root of the matter. The original “Camp Committee” was (to quote Mr. Gerard’s words) “disbanded by the order of the military authorities in February last (1915), because of its refusal to co-operate with the captains and its insistence upon publishing notices and minutes of its meetings after it had been forbidden to do so.”[23]This “Camp Committee” continued to object to the financial arrangement and the general administration of Mr. Powell and the other captains, and pressed their objections upon the Ambassador on August 23, 1915. “I thereupon suggested that perhaps the best way would be to refer the matter to a general election. To this the ‘Camp Committee’ demurred, and upon my asking what suggestion they had to proffer appeared to consider that they, a self-constituted body, should be given charge of the camp by me. This proposition I naturally rejected, especially as the members of this self-appointed committee were, although very estimable gentlemen,personæ non gratæboth to the majority of the prisoners and to the military authorities.... A final decision of the question as to whether the present government of Ruhleben is representative or not is to be found in the election of September 15, 1915, when every one of the captains at that time in authority was re-elected. The occasion was caused by the decision of the military authorities to withdraw the soldiers from the camp, and the captains therefore considered it desirable that they should appeal to the camp for decision as to whether it was wished that they should continue the government or not. I cannot see that any further proof is required as to whether the captains represent the feelings of the majority of the camp.”

One cannot help asking oneself, was the critic a member of the disbanded “Camp Committee”? The United States Ambassador on more than one occasion proved himself capable of speaking very decidedly to the German authorities of things he disapproved of. In this case, too, he speaks (though not to the German authorities) with some decision:

A properly heated and lighted recreation and assembling room is certainly extremely desirable for the damp and cold winter time. A new barrack has been sanctioned by the military authorities for the purpose, and I will do my best to press the work. I might venture to suggest that if so many private individuals had not occupied necessary space by election of private clubs the military authorities would be more willing to grant permission for the erection of further buildings intended for public good. Further, if the very men, such as the “camp committee” (who are all members of the “summer house” club), had devoted some of the energies which they expended upon the erection of the club for their own private use to the construction of a public sitting-room, the building might already be in use.The British tax-payer is paying a large sum in wages because the Ruhleben prisoners are unwilling to do the fatigue work of the camp. The captured British soldiers who have been fighting in the trenches are compelled to do work in work camps, are often not properly clothed, do not receive an allowance from the British tax-payer of 5M. a week, cannot buy food at less than cost price, nor go to a sanatorium (at the expense of the British tax-payer) when sick; have not the benefit of expert dental and optical treatment, have no public libraries, lectures, schools, debates, or camp newspapers, have not seven tennis courts, three football fields, athletic games, cricket, golf and hockey, are not amused by dramas, comic operas and cinema shows, and above all are not paid extra wages for doing their own work to make themselves comfortable. All of these advantages and more which the Ruhleben prisoners enjoy have been largely the result of the effort of the camp administration which this commentator criticises.

The British tax-payer is paying a large sum in wages because the Ruhleben prisoners are unwilling to do the fatigue work of the camp. The captured British soldiers who have been fighting in the trenches are compelled to do work in work camps, are often not properly clothed, do not receive an allowance from the British tax-payer of 5M. a week, cannot buy food at less than cost price, nor go to a sanatorium (at the expense of the British tax-payer) when sick; have not the benefit of expert dental and optical treatment, have no public libraries, lectures, schools, debates, or camp newspapers, have not seven tennis courts, three football fields, athletic games, cricket, golf and hockey, are not amused by dramas, comic operas and cinema shows, and above all are not paid extra wages for doing their own work to make themselves comfortable. All of these advantages and more which the Ruhleben prisoners enjoy have been largely the result of the effort of the camp administration which this commentator criticises.

These rather strong words of Mr. Gerard’s display a not unnatural irritation against a critic whose facts prove unreliable and whose mental attitude suggests a somewhat querulous bias, but it is only fair to remindourselves that after long internment all suffer from nerve strain and many suffer very severely. Under these circumstances complete reasonableness is probably more than any of us would be capable of.

At Ruhleben there are (with the exception of some negroes) English only. The English receive many packages. The German authorities have been tempted to rely on those packages increasingly. That is the state of things revealed in Dr. A. E. Taylor’s report of June 14, 1916. [Miscel. No. 21 (1916).]

A review of the present ration of the prisoners of war indicates that it is the aim of the ‘Kriegsernährungsamt’ to supply a ration which shall be physiologically adequate, though professedly containing little more than enough to cover minimal requirements; and it is believed that the official prisoners’ ration contains as much as the daily food of many millions of German subjects. There is no question that the official prison ration is an adequate ration from the standpoint of animal nutrition. In addition to this allotted camp ration the prisoners possess the food sent in from abroad as addenda.In the case of the Russian prisoners, these extra food stuffs sent in from abroad are small in amount; in the case of the French, moderate; in the case of the English, large. In all the prison camps that I have visited it is the practice to prepare food for the number of men in the camp, irrespective of nationality, in accordance with the menu of Professor Backhaus. As a rule, the British prisoners take little or none of the food, and their share is eaten by prisoners of other nationalities. In Ruhleben the state of affairs at present existing has convinced the interned civilians that the situation is, so to speak, reversed: that the German authorities seem to regard the foodstuffs sent in from abroad as the regular diet of the interned men, and the camp allotments as the addenda.

In the case of the Russian prisoners, these extra food stuffs sent in from abroad are small in amount; in the case of the French, moderate; in the case of the English, large. In all the prison camps that I have visited it is the practice to prepare food for the number of men in the camp, irrespective of nationality, in accordance with the menu of Professor Backhaus. As a rule, the British prisoners take little or none of the food, and their share is eaten by prisoners of other nationalities. In Ruhleben the state of affairs at present existing has convinced the interned civilians that the situation is, so to speak, reversed: that the German authorities seem to regard the foodstuffs sent in from abroad as the regular diet of the interned men, and the camp allotments as the addenda.

It is not surprising that “the interned men are deeply dissatisfied with the present state of affairs.” The German authorities, finding that at least half the total number of the interned at Ruhleben subsist largely upon private packages, have made a “sharpreduction in the amount of foodstuff allotted to the camp.” I have no wish to defend this proceeding, but it must be allowed that to the Government of a blockaded country there is a great temptation to cut down supplies when this will not be a danger to the prisoners themselves.

Both reports of Dr. Taylor [Miscel. No. 18 (1916) and Miscel. No. 21 (1916)] are important studies of the question of nutrition, and his short discussion (No. 18, p. 4) of the psychological aspects of monotonous diet and the nutritional effects of internment is worth careful attention. “A diet that would be tolerated if the subject were at liberty may become intolerable under conditions of imprisonment. There is a large personal equation operative in this direction. The soldier imbued with a high sense of his value to his country and of the justice of his cause will endure a monotonous diet that would not be endurable in the prisoner overwhelmed with disappointment and crushed with sorrow.” These considerations are obviously of general application.

Mr. Gerard, in a note of June 28, 1916 [Miscel. No. 25 (1916)], animadverts strongly on the bad accommodation still provided at Ruhleben. The letter is rather strikingly different in tone from his other reports on Ruhleben.

It is intolerable that people of education should be herded six together in a horse’s stall, and in some of the lofts the bunks touch one another. The light for reading is bad, and reading is a necessity if these poor prisoners are to be detained during another winter. In the haylofts above the stables the conditions are even worse.[24]

Bishop Bury’s account (“My Visit to Ruhleben,” p. 30) reads:

I don’t know whether it was our internment at Newbury,[25]the race-course for Reading, or our using race-courses, such as Kempton Park, for the training of our own men, which caused Ruhleben to be chosen in November, 1914, as a suitable place for civilians’ internment.... Without any description of mine it may be easily understood what they had to suffer until proper arrangements were made.... The loose boxes are now properly fitted with bunks, some being larger than others. The large corridor, with its stone floor, gives air and space, the lofts particularly being extremely well adapted now for their present purpose. I prefer the lofts to the boxes, because they have corridors out of which one can look, whereas the windows in the boxes are usually far above the ground. I went to tea more frequently in the boxes, and on one occasion we sat down sixteen in number—rather a crowd—but we were quite comfortable.

Bishop Bury has seen something on both sides, and his impressions are for that reason all the more important. We must not forget, too, that he lived a week with the prisoners at Ruhleben. It is also only fair to remember that no one has been invited to spend a week in any camp on this side. Bishop Bury also tells us “that when, a little time ago, the authorities proposed to relieve the overcrowding and construct another camp at Havilburg which could accommodate 600 men, the men at once petitioned that this idea might not be carried out, as they preferred, after this length of time to stay where they are.” (l.c., p. 40.)

One caution must, however, be given to the readers of Bishop Bury’s book. The conditions of the camp during the excitement and interest of his visit could not be the normal conditions. The frightful monotony of the long confinement does not obtrude itself in his book. Yet there is no doubt, I fear, that internment everywhere (at Ruhleben, as elsewhere) is becoming “intolerable.” To live, as at Alexandra Palace, day and night, foryearsin a great hall with more than a thousand others must become almost destructive to any sensitive nature. But (to quote Dr. Siegmund Schulze once more) “We ought not to conclude from this that we are justified in making reproaches....in respect of the treatment of prisoners, but rather conclude that we should work energetically towards the termination of the war.”

Dr. Cimino, very, and very naturally, anti-German as he is, writes:

The only real suffering we experienced at Ruhleben was from the cold.... The fact is that he (Count Schwerin) was as kind-hearted an old soldier as ever fondled an English wife, and loved his English prisoners.... He used to take part in our daily life as much as possible.... As to the concerts, he was always present,et pour cause; he was passionately fond of music.... at the end of the concert he would make his little speech, and we filed out. But one night we gave him a rousing cheer, and the whole crowd struck up, “For he’s a jolly good fellow.” (“Behind the Prison Bars in Germany,” p. 95).[26]

As to the food question, we must not forget that the blockade against Germany and the pressure upon neutrals have been continually increased in stringency. Up to October, 1915, Mr. Gerard could write as follows of Ruhleben:

The food material is excellent and the cooking, as I have stated, is attended to by the prisoners themselves, those doing the cooking receiving payment from the British fund, with the exception of 150M. weekly allowed for cooks’ wages by the German authorities. The prisoners are given, if they choose, a bread-card, and are allowed to purchase extra bread—the Kriegsbrod, which we all use in Germany and which is quite palatable—at the price of 55 pfennige a loaf. Food also, as I have stated, can be purchased in the canteen at prices very much less than food can be purchased in Berlin, and at very much less than cost.—[Miscel, No. 3 (1916)].

The low price at the canteen, was, however, I take it, owing to the existence of the camp fund contributed to by the British Government.

Lord Newton spoke in the House of Lords on February 22, 1917, on the question of prisoners of war. The following extract is from theDaily Telegraphreport:

There was nothing to be gained by exaggerating the conditions of prisoners in Germany or elsewhere. There was neither sense nor truth in representing, as was constantly done, that Ruhleben was a sort of unspeakable hell upon earth, and that a British internment camp was a kind of paradise compared with it. He deplored the hardship that these men underwent, but it was a great mistake to suppose that these civilians at Ruhleben were undergoing greater hardships than those being endured by our military prisoners. Like anyone who ventured to state the facts, he would no doubt be accused of being a pro-German, but certainly the conditions at Ruhleben had greatly improved recently. These conditions had improved, not on account of any action on the part of the German Government, but rather on account of their inaction. They had permitted the British there to organise on their own lines and make the conditions tolerable. Anyone could satisfy himself as to the conditions, because there were men who had arrived here recently who could give the fullest information. In addition, they were able to form their own opinions to a certain extent from independent testimony, for example, the visit of Bishop Bury. He could not understand why this prelate had been subjected to so much attack on the part of certain persons in this country. He went to Germany by permission of the German Government. He went to Ruhleben, lived in the camp, and was able to see what the conditions were. He reported exactly what he saw, and was thereupon denounced as not only being an inaccurate person but obviously pro-German.

The following private testimony is also of interest: “A nephew of mine who is interned at Ruhleben has been let out for a fortnight’s visit to some people whose son is interned in England, and who has been befriended here. My nephew met with the most overwhelming kindness, and his letters are most interesting and touching.” The “reprisals of good,” which we shall consider more fully presently, are, after all, the most practical measures in the world. There havebeen several other absences on leave, and a good many men have been released permanently. Moreover, at Christmas, 1916, most of the British officials in the camp were given three days leave in Berlin.

We may well be proud of the organising capacity of the British prisoners at Ruhleben and of the resolute determination of so many to make the very most of every slender opportunity, and to turn difficulties into a stimulus for ingenuity. The following is from theManchester Guardian, February 23, 1916:

A letter from Mr. Walter Butterworth, dated January 22, and written from his internment quarters at Ruhleben, Germany, has been received by the Chairman of the Manchester Art Gallery, Mr. F. Todd. After a reference to newly added pictures in the Manchester Gallery and to the death of his friend, Mr. Roger Oldham, Mr. Butterworth continues: “You will perhaps like to hear a little about art matters in Ruhleben. We really have some activity in arts and crafts. A great crowd of musicians are here, including some composers and many excellently equipped executants. We have actors in plenty, not without a sprinkling of professionals. Professors, journalists, and lecturers are our nearest approximation to workers in the literary field. There is no stint of craftsmen, who produce very clever work in wood, metals, etc. With provision tins they make the most astonishing things, including tackle for our physics and chemical departments, for weighing, testing, measuring, etc. With only tins and wire a man made an amazing electrical clock, which has kept faultless time for over a year. Other men made a handloom for demonstration purposes, which wove cloth before our eyes at a meeting of Yorkshiremen, at which I presided.Turning to the fine arts of painting and sculpture, I did not know we had any sculptors until this month, except one clever young artist who models heads in clay. But this month we have had a great deal of snow, and two men who have hitherto been resting came forward, and, like Michael Angelo on a famous occasion began to model in snow. But our designers and painters are the most numerous and active (after the musicians). They have a shed, in which art exhibitions are held periodically. Many portraits are drawn and a few painted. One artist is just completing a portrait of me inpastels. There is an endless outpouring of theatre posters, caricatures, humorous drawings, skits on the camp, etc.”

Turning to the fine arts of painting and sculpture, I did not know we had any sculptors until this month, except one clever young artist who models heads in clay. But this month we have had a great deal of snow, and two men who have hitherto been resting came forward, and, like Michael Angelo on a famous occasion began to model in snow. But our designers and painters are the most numerous and active (after the musicians). They have a shed, in which art exhibitions are held periodically. Many portraits are drawn and a few painted. One artist is just completing a portrait of me inpastels. There is an endless outpouring of theatre posters, caricatures, humorous drawings, skits on the camp, etc.”

Six students at Ruhleben passed the London University Matriculation examination in December, 1916. One of them took the Edinburgh papers as well later on. (Observer, August 26, 1917.) These are remarkable cases, for the strain of prolonged internment seems most of all to affect the power of concentrated attention.

The case of another successful student is recorded in theDaily Newsof June 2, 1918:

The distinction—probably unique—of graduating for the degree of Doctor of Music of Oxford University while a prisoner in enemy hands has been achieved by Mr. Ernest Macmillan, a young man with Edinburgh connections. Mr. Macmillan, who is the son of a clergyman in Toronto, was studying music in Germany when the war broke out, and since then he has been interned as a civil prisoner at Ruhleben. His answer to examination papers and his “exercise” (or composition) were sent from Ruhleben to Oxford.

That such things are possible at Ruhleben is a great tribute to English spirit and endurance. We must also not forget that they would clearly be wholly impossible if the Germans were actually barbarians.

When Bishop Bury during his visit in November, 1915, asked what he might be allowed to say at Ruhleben, General Friedrich replied: “Please do all you can to hearten and cheer up your fellow countrymen. Appeal to their patriotism, speak to their manhood. You and they will have no one between you. There will be no official of the camp; no one to listen to you, no one to come between yourself and them. We trust you entirely with them, and you will understand, I am sure, that we do not wish to diminish anyone’s sense of nationality who isimprisoned or interned in Germany.” (“My Visit to Ruhleben,” p. 21.) The words, says Bishop Bury, “seemed to come straight from the heart of the speaker.” Some readers will be sceptical; but at leastthe words were acted on. The Bishop spoke about the armies and the war to the men, and told them of his own experiences in the war area, “just as I should have told them to my own countrymen in this country.” At his last address the British flag was run in on a cord and “God Save the King” was sung. The Bishop had no time to propose the omission of the second verse, but one is proud to know that those Englishmen, even amidst their excitement, spontaneously omitted it. The whole scene revealed what was finest on both sides. Bishop Bury told the German Staff that at the meeting “we all sang ‘Send him victorious.’ They smiled indulgently.”

A good many more things of a favourable character could be said. Unfortunately men who speak well of their German captors are accused of pro-Germanism, and they dare not speak. This is a rather terrible fact, but it is a fact. As one man said to me: “I have my living to get, and if my identity could be traced through any account I gave I should be ruined. My work has already been very materially affected, but in private conversation I shall continue to speak the truth, come what may.” War prejudice indeed desires one kind of story only, and victimises those who give it what it does not want. And so all along the line suppression begets suppression of the truths most needed to heal our ills. A woman teacher writes to me: “I think I have a fairly open mind myself to recognise good deeds of the enemy; but to tell such to my pupils is another matter, and I fear would be very impolitic seeing that I depend on my school for my daily bread.” And again the Editor of a provincialpaper writes: “... but when one has to rely on the public for one’s living one has to think twice before expressing one’s views.”

Mr. Desmond wrote of the coming of the Revolution at Dülmen (vide p.61), Mr. Sylvester Leon has told us something of the last days at Ruhleben (Herald, January 4, 1919). “The soldiers are with you,” said Mr. Powell to the interned men. “For with the triumph of the Revolution, that friendliness which had existed in the days of the old régime between the interned and many an individual German soldier now became general among the military of Ruhleben; the officers had flitted, or had capitulated to the new order of things with more or less grace; Councils of soldiers and workmen ruled in the towns of the Fatherland; the era of Social Democracy was dawning upon Central Europe.... It is but fair to admit that the Ruhleben Guard acted very loyally in the performance of their duty. For when they were given the option of returning to their homes they did not avail themselves of that opportunity, but volunteered to remain at their posts until the disbandment of the camp. It is of historic interest to note that the red flag—the symbol of the triumph of the Revolution—which flew from the flag-pole in the camp, had formerly done service in the cubicle of one of the interned. It was dyed red by another of the interned, a doctor of science and a member of our little camp school, and then given to the soldiers.... The first impression gained on a visit outside the camp was the terrible seriousness of the food question. No one who has once seen can ever forget the sight of the crowds of hungry women and school children standing outside the gates of Ruhleben, literally besieging the interned as they passed out.” For it was only the interned who had food to spare. The Ruhlebenites gave, they had the facts before them.And “the people of Spandau turned out in force to wish us ‘Godspeed’ on our departure for home; and the send-off they gave us was astonishing in its enthusiasm, arresting in its spontaneity, and touching in its obvious sincerity.”

At Havelberg the camp for civilians had a population of 4,500. Of these only 372 were British subjects, being men from British India. Mr. Dresel writes on September 17, 1916: “This camp produces an excellent impression, the arrangements being unusually hygienic and modern.” [Miscel. No. 7 (1917), p. 6.]

Yet, however excellent the impression may be, an internment camp is a miserable place.[27]It is, of course, especially miserable for those whose nature is at all sensitive, and it is surely such men whom we shall need everywhere if we are to make a less brutal world. Man after man has gone into internment seeking to employ himself and to make the best of it. For months, for a year, less often for nearly two years he has succeeded. But slowly success has dwindled and turned into failure. The monotony, the sense of oppression, the physical and mental discomfort, the deadly uselessness of the life—even where to these things is not added concern for those outside—have made him incapable of fixed attention, incapable of effort, incapable of rest, alternately nervous and torpid, fearful, despairing. The “barbed wire disease” has him in its grip at last. “Another winter interned here,” wrote such a one, “and I shall need a padded cell.” He had a fine nature and had struggled hard. But “the people outside do not understand.” Certainly,there are those who can hold out to the end. I admire and envy them. I do not think any of us could predict with certainty that we should not give way.

There is only one remedy short of stopping the war, and that is the release of all civilians. Those who wish to remain, either in Germany or here, should certainly be allowed to do so, and if the police have no case against them, and if they can support themselves, they should be set free. Others should be repatriated or sent to neutral countries. The imprisonment of civilians is against the usage of war, and it is this fact which gave force to the claim of the German Government that there should be complete release on both sides.

I append extracts from a Swiss appeal to the belligerents on behalf of the civilian prisoners. It was issued in August, 1917, and has already appeared inCommon Sense.

A civilian is not a prisoner of war.We gladly acknowledge that the belligerent powers have effectively lessened the sufferings of the prisoners of war with an intelligent understanding of their duty; the military authorities have listened favourably to the proposals of the Red Cross, and already the soldiers have been spared many unnecessary sufferings. Humane measures have softened the captivity of military prisoners.In the name of Justice we now address this urgent appeal to the authorities in the belligerent countries to adopt the same attitude towards civilian prisoners.We have in mind all civil prisoners, for these, almost without exception, are innocent victims of the war; both those who since the beginning of the war have been interned, and those others in the occupied territories who have been isolated, oppressed or imprisoned, many of them in poor health, women, children, old men, who are not allowed to join their families in a neutral land. Our deep compassion and brotherly sympathy are especially moved on behalf of non-combatants who have been carried away like herds.We pray all belligerents without distinction to hearken to our appeal; with dread we watch the approach of another war-winter, bearing, as it must, a fresh succession of distresses, deprivations and reprisals. Therefore we cannot keep silence.... Numbers of civilian prisoners have been suffering since the beginning of the war from the depressingconditions of the concentration camps.... The civilian took no part in the war, and in most cases did not even desire it. He should not therefore be treated as a prisoner of war.Belligerent States! We call upon you to exchange all your civilians now interned.... This exchange must naturally be effected under certain conditions to be established. Each State must bind itself not to employ the liberated civilians for war-work; just as was arranged in the case of military prisoners who have been repatriated or sent to neutral countries. With these conditions, no belligerent should refuse to liberate the civilians so unjustly imprisoned.Honour will be theirs who act upon this appeal....

A civilian is not a prisoner of war.

We gladly acknowledge that the belligerent powers have effectively lessened the sufferings of the prisoners of war with an intelligent understanding of their duty; the military authorities have listened favourably to the proposals of the Red Cross, and already the soldiers have been spared many unnecessary sufferings. Humane measures have softened the captivity of military prisoners.

In the name of Justice we now address this urgent appeal to the authorities in the belligerent countries to adopt the same attitude towards civilian prisoners.

We have in mind all civil prisoners, for these, almost without exception, are innocent victims of the war; both those who since the beginning of the war have been interned, and those others in the occupied territories who have been isolated, oppressed or imprisoned, many of them in poor health, women, children, old men, who are not allowed to join their families in a neutral land. Our deep compassion and brotherly sympathy are especially moved on behalf of non-combatants who have been carried away like herds.

We pray all belligerents without distinction to hearken to our appeal; with dread we watch the approach of another war-winter, bearing, as it must, a fresh succession of distresses, deprivations and reprisals. Therefore we cannot keep silence.... Numbers of civilian prisoners have been suffering since the beginning of the war from the depressingconditions of the concentration camps.... The civilian took no part in the war, and in most cases did not even desire it. He should not therefore be treated as a prisoner of war.

Belligerent States! We call upon you to exchange all your civilians now interned.... This exchange must naturally be effected under certain conditions to be established. Each State must bind itself not to employ the liberated civilians for war-work; just as was arranged in the case of military prisoners who have been repatriated or sent to neutral countries. With these conditions, no belligerent should refuse to liberate the civilians so unjustly imprisoned.

Honour will be theirs who act upon this appeal....

The signatories to this appeal are G. Wagnière (Editor of theJournal de Genève), Dr. A. Forel (Professor at Zurich University), Ed. Secrétan (National Councillor), Benjamin Vallotton, Charles Baudouin (Professor at the Institut J. J. Rousseau), Ch. Bernard, P. Seidel (Professor at the Cantonal Technical College, Zürich), A. de Morsier, Ph. Dunant (Lawyer of Geneva), Paul Moriand (Professor of Medicine at Geneva), and MM. Blonde and Arcos.

The Swiss Red Cross has also appealed for the release of all interned civilians.

From this side the following private appeal on behalf of all prisoners has been addressed to the Red Cross at Cologne:

I feel it incumbent upon me ... to draw your attention to the acute disappointment that is being caused among the prisoners in all the camps, and almost equally among their friends outside, by the delay in repatriation. Every phase in the long series of public discussions and official negotiations, every hitch, and every hesitation, has been followed with painful anxiety by those of us who know what it means for all these thousands of victims languishing in confinement, and you may be sure, with much more intensely painful anxiety by the victims themselves, whose ears are pathetically strained to catch the feeblest echo of any rumour from the outside world that brings them the slightest hint of release. For months these poor fellows had been continually alternating between hope and despair, when the news of the Hague meeting seemed for large numbers to bring themdefinitely, at long last, within measurable distance of the reality. Knowing therefore as you do, equally well with us, the mental condition of these men, and the terribly demoralising effect of long internment, even under the best conditions, you will realise the deep depression into which they are now being plunged by all the inexplicable delays in carrying out the terms of the convention. From every one who comes in contact with them I gather the same impression, that unless the Gordian knot is cut and a way is quickly found out of the present impasse, the most serious results are to be apprehended, as numbers of prisoners here—and the case can be no better in other countries—are on the verge of insanity....[28]I would put it therefore to you in all earnestness that it is your duty, as representing humanity, to bring without delay all the pressure and all the influence you possess to bear upon the authorities to consider the sufferings of the prisoners and induce them, if possible, even at the cost of some concessions, to facilitate from their side the carrying through of this scheme, in which I can assure you not merely the happiness but even the life of many men is involved.I speak, of course, quite unofficially, and with no other motive than pure philanthropy, but I may venture to hope that my representations, though only those of a private individual, will carry more than ordinary weight, inasmuch as there is perhaps nobody whose information and experience in these matters are more real and vital, or entitle him to speak with more authority.Nor do I stand alone, for there are many others with whom I have worked from the beginning in the same field. All these associate themselves with me in this appeal, and, like myself, with no other motive than that of simple humanity. If the time, the energy, and the money we have all spent so unstintingly to improve the prisoners’ lot give us any title to be heard, we all implore you, not only for the sake of the prisoners themselves, but in the eternal interests of humanity and justice, to do, and to do quickly whatever you can in furtherance of this object. We quite understand, of course, that military interests must be considered, but it is not always possible for those in high places, with whom such decisions rest, to realise as vividly as we do all that is at stake in a question of this sort, and that is why we feel entitled to assume that your advice would not be withouteffect, and that being the case, we submit it becomes your solemn duty to tender it.

I would put it therefore to you in all earnestness that it is your duty, as representing humanity, to bring without delay all the pressure and all the influence you possess to bear upon the authorities to consider the sufferings of the prisoners and induce them, if possible, even at the cost of some concessions, to facilitate from their side the carrying through of this scheme, in which I can assure you not merely the happiness but even the life of many men is involved.

I speak, of course, quite unofficially, and with no other motive than pure philanthropy, but I may venture to hope that my representations, though only those of a private individual, will carry more than ordinary weight, inasmuch as there is perhaps nobody whose information and experience in these matters are more real and vital, or entitle him to speak with more authority.

Nor do I stand alone, for there are many others with whom I have worked from the beginning in the same field. All these associate themselves with me in this appeal, and, like myself, with no other motive than that of simple humanity. If the time, the energy, and the money we have all spent so unstintingly to improve the prisoners’ lot give us any title to be heard, we all implore you, not only for the sake of the prisoners themselves, but in the eternal interests of humanity and justice, to do, and to do quickly whatever you can in furtherance of this object. We quite understand, of course, that military interests must be considered, but it is not always possible for those in high places, with whom such decisions rest, to realise as vividly as we do all that is at stake in a question of this sort, and that is why we feel entitled to assume that your advice would not be withouteffect, and that being the case, we submit it becomes your solemn duty to tender it.

The sufferings of this war are indeed vast beyond all comprehension. Is not there danger that this very fact may lead us to add to that suffering without need?

In a pathetic appeal to be given work the men at one internment camp here said, “We are simply rotting away.” And others say, “The people outside do not understand.” Loss, heartache, privation, stagnation, friction, stupid and malicious gossip, mental and moral deterioration—“rotting away.” This disintegration of personality, the gradual rotting of the man’s selfhood, is perhaps, clearly envisaged, as great a horror as war can bring. It is not the result of deliberate cruelty, but simply of conditions most of which are inevitable if there is to be internment at all.

The reports available on our own internment camps do not go back beyond March, 1916.[29]It is perhaps well to remind ourselves that even by May, 1916, there were still defects. Thus in the American Report of May 18, 1916, on Knockaloe, we read: “The huts are being put in good weather-proof condition, and are being protected against the wind and rain by felt and tarred paper.”[30]As to sanitation, “There have been improvements in the sanitary arrangements since our last visit.” “In the hospital in Camp IV. there is now being built a recreation room, where convalescents may sit, which will give more room for the patients; also a special sink has been provided for washing the hospital utensils, and new latrines have been installed.They seem to be at work at this hospital to improve its condition. As Camp IV. has the largest number of older men interned, this hospital has more patients than others, and seemed rather crowded at the time of our visit.” “In the isolation hospital we found only one bath and one tap for all the patients who are suffering from various sorts of contagious diseases. We took this matter up with the proper authorities, who assured us that it should have their attention. The sanitary arrangements in all the hospitals might be improved, except possibly in Camp I.” “There were complaints about the hospital treatment, particularly of the care of the eyes, ears and teeth, for which the interned men claimed that there was not sufficient opportunity for special treatment.”

These last complaints are curiously parallel to some made at Ruhleben. [See Miscel. No. 3 (1916) pp. 3, 15, 16.]

“There was complaint that there were no shelters for the men while waiting to receive parcels, nor for outside patients visiting the doctor. This matter was taken up.”

“In Camp III. a complaint was made about the difficulty of personal intercourse between the representatives of the camp and the Commandant. This had caused dissatisfaction. The men seemed to have confidence in the new Commandant, but they told us that they had difficulty in approaching him. We took this matter up with the proper authorities, and were informed that they would in future have more opportunity for personal intercourse.”

The huts for sleeping accommodation “are sectional, being of the regular War Office pattern, 30 feet by 15 feet, each section holding thirty men.” This gives us a floor space of 450 square feet for each thirty men. In that portion of the Ruhleben loft most adversely criticised by Mr. Gerard the roof slopes from 10 feet at the ridge to a height of 4½ feet only at the sides. The floor space allowed, however, is 10.2 metres by12.8 metres, giving us about 1,390 square feet for 64 men, or 651 square feet for thirty men. When all allowance is made for the lowness of the sides in the rather wide loft (it seems to be more than 30 feet wide), this worst accommodation at Ruhleben seems, as regards space available, not inferior to that at Knockaloe. Further details would be needed for a complete comparison.

The report on Knockaloe is not enthusiastic, but evidently there had been many improvements, and still more was hoped for from the new Commandant. “The new Commandant, who has only been there some ten weeks, seems to have gained the confidence and respect of the interned men. He seems to be doing all in his power to better the conditions of the camp. He finds difficulty in getting material, such as tarred paper or felt, etc., for use on the huts. He told us that he had the matter in hand, and was giving betterment of the conditions at the camp every attention.... The whole tone of the camp is much better than it was at the time of the last visit. (See report of January 8, 1916.) There were fewer complaints, and the prisoners seemed much more contented.”

It is unfortunate that we cannot “see” the earlier report to which we are directed. But it is good to know that the new Commandant, Col. F. N. Panzera, proved to be a Christian gentleman with real sympathy for the unfortunate men under his charge. Like many other commandants, both here and in Germany, he did, amidst the various difficulties, what he could. As he is, alas, now dead, we may perhaps quote the words he addressed to the men in his care at the Christmas of 1916. It is a strange reflection that it might have injured his position to quote this fine and simple message during his life-time. Colonel Panzera wrote:

I am sorry that the size of the camp prevents my seeing you all, which I should do if it were smaller and thus possible. It would be a mockery to wish you a “Happy Christmas,” I am afraid, but I wish you as happy a one as is possible under the circumstances. I most earnestly wish you a happier New Year. May the New Year bring Peace and restore you to all dear to you. I hope that prosperity and happiness may come to you in the future, and may in time obliterate the memory of the present period of sadness.I should like to take the opportunity of saying how much I appreciate the general good behaviour of the camps during the past year. There have been little lapses, as there must always be in a mixed community of 25,000 people, but on the whole the conduct has been extremely good, which has been a great help to those placed over you. Once more I wish you as good a Christmas as possible and a better New Year.

I should like to take the opportunity of saying how much I appreciate the general good behaviour of the camps during the past year. There have been little lapses, as there must always be in a mixed community of 25,000 people, but on the whole the conduct has been extremely good, which has been a great help to those placed over you. Once more I wish you as good a Christmas as possible and a better New Year.

The food question also becomes increasingly serious in the camps, as it does in prisons. I confess I feel we ought to ration ourselves very strictly before we cut down the supplies of our prisoners, criminal or otherwise. “The reduced diet,” wrote Fenner Brockway of his prison experiences, “is one of semi-starvation, and every prisoner is becoming thin and physically weak.” (Labour Leader, September 6. 1917.) Those who care to inquire of the wives of interned men will learn their side of the case as regards the effect of changed conditions in the camps. The sad feature is that the increasing rigour comes upon men already weakened, both physically and mentally, by long confinement. The original published statement of Sir Edward (now Viscount) Grey [Misc. 7 (1915), p. 23] no longer obtains. The food is, of course, very different, and may not be supplemented.

I have not cared to quote adverse “unofficial information and rumours,” either as regards our own or other detention camps. What some adverse critics say about our own may be read in theWoman’sDreadnought, Vol III., p. 551. The rather terrible appeal of the Captains at Knockaloe is also printed on p. 561. It is a letter which is unwise and hysterical. I do not wonder at its hysteria, and I confess that some things in the letter hit me rather hard. But, alas, the desperation of the interned men on either side does not help towards wise judgment, and for that desperation we are all, in every country, in some measure responsible. It is best to remember instead the real sympathy that those actually in touch with prisoners do often feel. Colonel Panzera’s message is clear evidence of this, and from a private letter I take the following:

The attitude of prejudice or even hatred towards enemies, whether prisoners or not, often disappears when men are brought face to face in the work of an internment camp, for example, and find that they are very much like each other. An officer of a certain camp here was taken prisoner and interned for six months in Germany before he escaped. He says that two or three times the officers of the camp were changed, and in each case began with harsh treatment, either the result of official suggestion or of the general feeling. In each case, after the lapse of a short time, close acquaintance modified this attitude, and finally kindly relations and treatment resulted. In the same way the nurses in a certain hospital here refused to receive or treat German prisoners until a company of the wounded men arrived, when the feeling of natural humanity proved too strong, and they were quite eager to attend to them. At the internment camps in this country the officers generally speak of the men under their charge with humanity and respect.

The following is significant. “In the town near a certain internment camp of ours much indignation was roused by the story that some of the interned aliens had set in motion some railway trucks on a sloping siding, with the intention of allowing them to crash into an arriving passenger train at the bottom. An English friend of mine happened to observe the real origin of the story. The trucksbegan to move in an accidental way, and two or three of the aliens nearly lost their own lives, certainly risked serious accident,in endeavouring to stop the trucks when they were already moving.”

Thus in the quiet neighbourhood of an internment camp a brave deed becomes by popular passion transformed into something monstrous. What would this popular imagination do in an invaded district? Its vagaries must be experienced and studied by any investigator of the atrocities of war.

Another example of heroism amongst German prisoners I take from theDaily Newsof April 30, 1918. A small boat in which two men were sailing capsized about 200 yards out from the Leasowe Embankment, Cheshire. The men, clinging to the bottom of the boat, were being driven out by the tide when two members of an escort of German prisoners, Sergeant Phillips and Private Matthews, jumped into the water and with difficulty brought one man back. One of the German prisoners, named Bunte, volunteered to go to the rescue of the other man, who was by then in great danger. The German swam out strongly and brought the man back.

I fear that on both sides it is embittered men who will be released from the civilian internment camps. People do not realise how financial ruin, harassment, illness and death (to which the harassment may have contributed) follow in the track of internment. A man is interned, his wife and family are reduced to a mere pittance, the woman is, it may be, delicate. She falls ill and dies.[31]And amid such incidents and the mental strain of the confinement a brooding hatred gradually settles down upon the souls of these sufferers. Personally, I do not feel one can expect much favourable memory of the authorities on either side.Certainly every one who has worked for prisoners is touched by their gratitude, but the iron has entered into their souls for all that. And perhaps it is well to remind ourselves that a far larger number of civilians have been suffering in the internment camps on this side. Let us not add to their bitterness by unworthy abuse or credulous malice. Men who, after long confinement for no offence of their own, have tried to save enemy lives, and find their efforts described as an attempt at murder, must begin to feel hopeless of justice. Excess of generosity would be far wiser. The world wants no more missioners of hate. Let us try to avoiding creating such.

In our own internment camps there was often, even early in the war, an atmosphere of depression which one worker said “haunted him for days.” The following extract is from the letter of an interned man who showed quite remarkable courage and fought with considerable success against depression till the end of 1917. “I refuse to give way to depression,” he wrote. But in 1918 the strain of useless monotony had become too great, he became physically ill, and how low hope had fallen the letter itself shows: “You can’t think how good it is to hear you speak with so much sympathy. I feel sure you understand the dreariness of this life, the long and fruitless waiting, the nights of anguish—and all the misery of it, the terrible discontent and the passionate heart longings.... You don’t know how sore it is sometimes about my heart....”

Methods that seem to many of us avoidable contribute also to increase ill-feeling. I take the following from theDaily Newsof September, 27, 1918:

Back to Index Next