We are delighted and thankful to see from your letter of January 31 that an unnamed gentleman in America has sent you the sum of £400 with instructions to assign half of it to our work for foreigners in Germany, and saying that the British Government at once gave their consent to the payment of the amount to us. It will be a great help to our work and will be conscientiously used for British subjects and for the subjects of nations allied with England. For a considerable time our work has been such that we can take advantage of the relief agencies of other countries for the assistance of Germans abroad, and for that reason can apply the means placed at our disposal for the support of foreigners in Germany only. So our help is now practically confined to “alien enemies,” because the subjects of neutral States, should they be in need, can obtain other assistance, and it is our uppermost wish to relieve those who, but for us, would perhaps be utterly friendless. It is, moreover, a great satisfaction and encouragement to us that outside your and our spheres the community of our work is so strongly felt that people desire to further the efforts of the two societies simultaneously. The confidence so kindly felt in our efforts even abroad incites us to an ever increasing devotion to our work, to the undertaking of new tasks, and to the fulfilling of the old ones with more and more care in every detail.
We are delighted and thankful to see from your letter of January 31 that an unnamed gentleman in America has sent you the sum of £400 with instructions to assign half of it to our work for foreigners in Germany, and saying that the British Government at once gave their consent to the payment of the amount to us. It will be a great help to our work and will be conscientiously used for British subjects and for the subjects of nations allied with England. For a considerable time our work has been such that we can take advantage of the relief agencies of other countries for the assistance of Germans abroad, and for that reason can apply the means placed at our disposal for the support of foreigners in Germany only. So our help is now practically confined to “alien enemies,” because the subjects of neutral States, should they be in need, can obtain other assistance, and it is our uppermost wish to relieve those who, but for us, would perhaps be utterly friendless. It is, moreover, a great satisfaction and encouragement to us that outside your and our spheres the community of our work is so strongly felt that people desire to further the efforts of the two societies simultaneously. The confidence so kindly felt in our efforts even abroad incites us to an ever increasing devotion to our work, to the undertaking of new tasks, and to the fulfilling of the old ones with more and more care in every detail.
The spectroscope story is a particularly good example of the way reprisals of good work out. I takethe following account from a leaflet signed W.R.H., and already known to many workers in the cause of fellowship.
A spectroscope, I believe, is an instrument which takes a ray of light and proceeds to spread it abroad. At all events, the description seems to suit in this case.The spectroscope game was started by Bishop Bury. After his return from his visit to Ruhleben Camp he mentioned in a lecture that some of the science students interned there were very anxious to obtain the use of a spectroscope. The report of this lecture was read by one of the camp visitors of the Friends’ Emergency Committee, who was a schoolmaster and a scientist. Moreover, he possessed a spectroscope. So he joined in the game and played his piece. But instead of trying to send the instrument to Germany, he wrote to St. Stephen’s House and suggested that inquiries should be made as to whether any of the schools in the internment camps in England were in need of such an apparatus. If so, he would lend his, and ask our friends of the Berlin Committee for assisting alien enemies to try to do the same for Ruhleben. It was soon discovered that a group of men in Douglas Camp would welcome the spectroscope, which was at once sent them, and the corresponding message written to Berlin. It was not long before a reply was received telling us, as we expected, that every effort would be made, as usual, to carry out such a proposal for reciprocal service to prisoners.A little later another player came into the game in the shape of the German War Office. (There seems to be a War Office player in every game that takes place in these days.) The German War Office was reluctant to permit valuable lenses to enter the internment camp without being quite sure first of all that the corresponding privilege had been allowed in England. Would we, therefore, obtain and forward a written certificate from the Commandant of the camp to say that the instrument had been allowed. This was soon done, and we next hear that the Berlin Committee, being unable to find a spectroscope themselves, had collected the sum of 900 marks for the purchase of one, and has asked permission for two of the leaders of the “University” of Ruhleben to be allowed out of camp to inspect instruments before purchase. This permission seems to have been readily granted, and Dr. Higgins and Mr. Chadwick met Dr. Rotten, the secretary of the Berlin Committee, in order to choose the most suitable apparatus. They finally decided upon one offered by Herr H., the head of an optical instrument firm.At this point the game became specially interesting. Dr.Rotten was aware that Herr H.’s brother and his family had been closely in touch with the Emergency Committee, and had received considerable help in difficult and distressing circumstances. In recognition of the assistance given to his brother, he at once offered to lend to the camp, for the period of the war, a spectrometer and prisms valued together at 1,650 marks. The 900 marks collected were thus released to be used for other enterprises. Herr H. also sent a warm message offering to receive his brother’s children, who had lost their mother during the war, and to welcome his brother as soon as he was free to cross to Germany. He also offered to provide him with anything he might desire to help him pass away the weary hours in camp. We learnt that the brother had been studying French, and now wish to take up Spanish, and he has therefore chosen a set of Spanish instruction books as what he would like best.The game still continues. Other well-known scientific firms in Berlin have been approached and interested in an effort to provide material for scientific work in Ruhleben, and we have received a request from Dr. Higgins to follow up an effort he is making to provide similar assistance for some men at Knockaloe, about whom he has written to various University professors and business friends in England. Herr H. has also sent us a list of nine firms whose principals he is acquainted with, to see if they also will help in like manner.A spectroscope I believe, is an instrument which takes a ray of light and proceeds to spread it abroad. A fine instrument!W.R.H.
A spectroscope, I believe, is an instrument which takes a ray of light and proceeds to spread it abroad. At all events, the description seems to suit in this case.
The spectroscope game was started by Bishop Bury. After his return from his visit to Ruhleben Camp he mentioned in a lecture that some of the science students interned there were very anxious to obtain the use of a spectroscope. The report of this lecture was read by one of the camp visitors of the Friends’ Emergency Committee, who was a schoolmaster and a scientist. Moreover, he possessed a spectroscope. So he joined in the game and played his piece. But instead of trying to send the instrument to Germany, he wrote to St. Stephen’s House and suggested that inquiries should be made as to whether any of the schools in the internment camps in England were in need of such an apparatus. If so, he would lend his, and ask our friends of the Berlin Committee for assisting alien enemies to try to do the same for Ruhleben. It was soon discovered that a group of men in Douglas Camp would welcome the spectroscope, which was at once sent them, and the corresponding message written to Berlin. It was not long before a reply was received telling us, as we expected, that every effort would be made, as usual, to carry out such a proposal for reciprocal service to prisoners.
A little later another player came into the game in the shape of the German War Office. (There seems to be a War Office player in every game that takes place in these days.) The German War Office was reluctant to permit valuable lenses to enter the internment camp without being quite sure first of all that the corresponding privilege had been allowed in England. Would we, therefore, obtain and forward a written certificate from the Commandant of the camp to say that the instrument had been allowed. This was soon done, and we next hear that the Berlin Committee, being unable to find a spectroscope themselves, had collected the sum of 900 marks for the purchase of one, and has asked permission for two of the leaders of the “University” of Ruhleben to be allowed out of camp to inspect instruments before purchase. This permission seems to have been readily granted, and Dr. Higgins and Mr. Chadwick met Dr. Rotten, the secretary of the Berlin Committee, in order to choose the most suitable apparatus. They finally decided upon one offered by Herr H., the head of an optical instrument firm.
At this point the game became specially interesting. Dr.Rotten was aware that Herr H.’s brother and his family had been closely in touch with the Emergency Committee, and had received considerable help in difficult and distressing circumstances. In recognition of the assistance given to his brother, he at once offered to lend to the camp, for the period of the war, a spectrometer and prisms valued together at 1,650 marks. The 900 marks collected were thus released to be used for other enterprises. Herr H. also sent a warm message offering to receive his brother’s children, who had lost their mother during the war, and to welcome his brother as soon as he was free to cross to Germany. He also offered to provide him with anything he might desire to help him pass away the weary hours in camp. We learnt that the brother had been studying French, and now wish to take up Spanish, and he has therefore chosen a set of Spanish instruction books as what he would like best.
The game still continues. Other well-known scientific firms in Berlin have been approached and interested in an effort to provide material for scientific work in Ruhleben, and we have received a request from Dr. Higgins to follow up an effort he is making to provide similar assistance for some men at Knockaloe, about whom he has written to various University professors and business friends in England. Herr H. has also sent us a list of nine firms whose principals he is acquainted with, to see if they also will help in like manner.
A spectroscope I believe, is an instrument which takes a ray of light and proceeds to spread it abroad. A fine instrument!
W.R.H.
The ray of light is spread by reprisals of good. When the nephew of a friend of mine was let out from Ruhleben on a fortnight’s leave, and received “overwhelming kindness” from his German hosts, what was it that so specially drew out their kindness? The fact that their own son, interned in this country, has been befriended here. (P. 105.)
Yet, in spite of all the efforts of sympathy, suffering, in camp and out, grows ever greater as the war continues. Here are two short stories of February, 1915, as reported to the Committee on this side. If, for a moment we can forget our passions, the sufferings ofthese, our fellows, must touch our hearts. Nearly four more years have passed and we know that greater loneliness and sorrow must have come to these hearts, as to so many more.
Our first call is in a horrid little street off Tottenham Court Road. Four knocks on a very shaky door brings Bertha, the wife of a German, a ships’ cook, who has never been long enough on shore to become a naturalised Englishman. Bertha was a servant for many years before she married, and had collected many precious possessions, and she and Friedrich had a comfortable home with plenty of furniture and full of all the useless and hideous knicknack which apparently make so many people happy. Only a few remain, for nearly all have “had to go”—the term we know so well to mean that they are now in pawn, and that it will probably never be possible to redeem them. When first we visited them they were living in a basement room where rats made it difficult for them to sleep, and where, on the many unexpected calls I paid, I never once found a fire.“We are not people wot feel the cold like some, Miss,” they told me; “and the room’s so small it likely wouldn’t be ’ealthy to have a fire all day” so the “bit of washing” used to hang on a string for days and days before it dried, and they did their “bit of cooking” on a small gas ring. One day I called and found Friedrich still in bed; he was quite well, he said, “but we take turns to stay in bed, Miss, for it’s warmer there and you don’t seem to feel so hungry in bed as when you’re up.”They were trying to save something out of a weekly 12s. 6d., after 6s. had been paid for rent, for the time when Bertha would have to go into hospital, and to buy some clothes that her little babe would need. Thenyou sent me, and let me tell her you would remember her when that time came, and you sent her flannel and wool to make the little clothes: after that a shilling a week could be spent on coals, and each time I went they sent you thanks and blessed you for your love.We say good-bye here and go north to Camden Town where we call on Ludwig and Marie and their five children, the eldest of whom is six. He is Austrian and she is Irish, and they live in two rooms for which they pay 8s. 6d. a week. He was a waiter for thirteen years in a well known London restaurant, and his master has told him many times he would take him back if only the public or the newspapers would let him. Butthey won’t. So Ludwig had nothing to do,and tells me he thinks he shall go out of his mind sitting in idleness in his miserable surroundings. Marie has been in hospital, too, and then Ludwighadplenty to do looking after his four little children alone for two weeks, and says it was the hardest work he ever had to do, and is glad his lot in life is not to be a woman!The doctor in the hospital told Marie she must have plenty of milk every day, and we smiled together, for we knew their weekly income left no margin for milk for her—the children must be fed first. Soyouare helping, and Marie has her milk each day, and she and her babe are growing strong and well again.
Our first call is in a horrid little street off Tottenham Court Road. Four knocks on a very shaky door brings Bertha, the wife of a German, a ships’ cook, who has never been long enough on shore to become a naturalised Englishman. Bertha was a servant for many years before she married, and had collected many precious possessions, and she and Friedrich had a comfortable home with plenty of furniture and full of all the useless and hideous knicknack which apparently make so many people happy. Only a few remain, for nearly all have “had to go”—the term we know so well to mean that they are now in pawn, and that it will probably never be possible to redeem them. When first we visited them they were living in a basement room where rats made it difficult for them to sleep, and where, on the many unexpected calls I paid, I never once found a fire.
“We are not people wot feel the cold like some, Miss,” they told me; “and the room’s so small it likely wouldn’t be ’ealthy to have a fire all day” so the “bit of washing” used to hang on a string for days and days before it dried, and they did their “bit of cooking” on a small gas ring. One day I called and found Friedrich still in bed; he was quite well, he said, “but we take turns to stay in bed, Miss, for it’s warmer there and you don’t seem to feel so hungry in bed as when you’re up.”
They were trying to save something out of a weekly 12s. 6d., after 6s. had been paid for rent, for the time when Bertha would have to go into hospital, and to buy some clothes that her little babe would need. Thenyou sent me, and let me tell her you would remember her when that time came, and you sent her flannel and wool to make the little clothes: after that a shilling a week could be spent on coals, and each time I went they sent you thanks and blessed you for your love.
We say good-bye here and go north to Camden Town where we call on Ludwig and Marie and their five children, the eldest of whom is six. He is Austrian and she is Irish, and they live in two rooms for which they pay 8s. 6d. a week. He was a waiter for thirteen years in a well known London restaurant, and his master has told him many times he would take him back if only the public or the newspapers would let him. Butthey won’t. So Ludwig had nothing to do,and tells me he thinks he shall go out of his mind sitting in idleness in his miserable surroundings. Marie has been in hospital, too, and then Ludwighadplenty to do looking after his four little children alone for two weeks, and says it was the hardest work he ever had to do, and is glad his lot in life is not to be a woman!
The doctor in the hospital told Marie she must have plenty of milk every day, and we smiled together, for we knew their weekly income left no margin for milk for her—the children must be fed first. Soyouare helping, and Marie has her milk each day, and she and her babe are growing strong and well again.
The work done by the Friends’ Emergency Committee, Dr. K. E. Markel and others on this side, and by Dr. Rotten, Siegmund Schulze, Prof. Stange and their fellows on the other, is indeed as “a clear flame of truth in a dark and haunted night.”
To the great work of Prof. Stange, of Göttingen, I have once or twice alluded. He directs all the instruction given in the Göttingen camp, attends daily, gives lectures and superintends the library. He experienced the usual difficulties of any civilian who tries to practice Christianity in war-time. “One great German newspaper wrote with indignation that the prisoners in the Göttingen Camp had as good a time as if they were at a health resort.” Doubtless this paper, like some others, contrasted the (rumoured) abominable treatment of German prisoners by their enemies with the too great indulgence shown to prisoners in Germany. But Prof. Stange is not abashed. “No internment camp,” he writes, “can be compared with a ‘holiday resort.’ In spite of everything that may be done for the prisoners, internment is and remains always a very hard lot. In the Göttingen camp, too, many a prisoner needs not only the exertion of his whole strength, but help as well to make the endurance of his lot physically and spiritually possible.” Stange is one of those who have learned to envisage theanxieties, the loneliness, the uncertainty, the ennui of the prisoner, and the terrible enervation of long months, and, alas, years of confinement. In this, as in so many circumstances of the war, it is the more sensitive and developed minds that suffer most, and are most easily destroyed, those minds that are indispensable in the building of any worthy future.
Prof. Stange quite frankly acknowledges to a war prejudice against the English. But when he found their great need of help, his prejudices melted away, and he soon engaged in helping them too with books classes, and other means of activity.
Prof. Stange recognises that such work for enemy prisoners helps towards better treatment of their own prisoners abroad, but, he adds, “It must certainly be emphatically stated that we in Göttingen never took up our work for the prisoners with this object. What compelled us to work was simply and entirely the great distress and need of the prisoners themselves.” (P. 36. The extracts are from Prof. Stange’s pamphlet on Göttingen Camp.)
At last, rest. To many weary hearts it must have become a pitiful consolation that this at least is sure. “After life’s fitful fever he sleeps well.” And in that sleep no fevered passion can even “ruffle one corner of the folded shroud.” At last, rest; where the enmities and the ambitions are forgotten. In the presence of this stillness of death, even to the living their disputes seem small. If the mood could endure, death might not be needed to bring peace.
“In a corner of the bonny little churchyard of Frongoch, adjoining the extended camp, there are two solitary graves. Here, in a strange land, the land of their captivity, two German prisoner soldiers lie atrest, as in many a plot of ground in France and Flanders, German and British lie together, strife hushed in the last sleep. Here there are no grim sounds and sights of battle, but instead there is all the peace and beauty of a lovely spring. Immediately beyond the graves a wooded bank descends to the stream, and over and through the fresh green foliage, amidst which the birds are happily melodious this bright April morning, and all around can be seen the mountains of Wales, the ‘land of freedom.’ Over the grave of one of these liberated captives is a tombstone erected at the expense of, and engraved by, his fellow prisoners. It marks the place where Hugo Schröter, Under-Officer of one of the Crown Prince’s Infantry Regiments, who died on April 9, 1915, as the result of wounds received in the cause of his country, was laid to rest by his grateful comrades.
“The other grave has no stone as yet, but one is being prepared. It is that of a prisoner who died of consumption, after many months of lingering suffering in the hospital, where every care was bestowed upon him. It was in reference to this man that the Chief Officer wrote me: ‘To our regret died last Thursday the patient in the isolation hospital. If only he could have seen the two beautiful bunches of violets you sent! The funeral took place yesterday at 10-30. It was an impressive sight but a very sad one, too.’
“My daughter laid a little offering of white flowers on the grave, and then I photographed them in order to send copies to the families of the poor men, which I hope may prove little winged messengers of sympathy and goodwill.”
W. Whiting.
“A British officer, of whom one can truly say that he had not been afraid to speak the truth about his treatment in Germany, and in the Cologne hospital, was carried to his last resting-place yesterday.
“It was Captain Wilfred Beckett Birt, of the EastSurrey Regiment No. 31, who, on the occasion of the attack in September, 1915, had his thigh shattered and was taken prisoner. Since January, 1916, he had been nursed in the fortress hospital, No. 6, situated in the Empress Augusta School. His chivalrous character and his conscientious impartiality made him respected and popular with his French and English fellow sufferers and the German Hospital Staff. Gratefully he acknowledged what the surgical art of assistant-surgeon Dr. Meyer had done to lessen his sufferings, and the loving care the German nurses, male and female, had bestowed on him and his comrades.
“The great affection in which he was held by friend and foe alike showed itself in the mourning over his death, which took place a few days ago. His wound, a short time before, had shown improvement, but the heart was no longer equal to the terrible strain. Those of his comrades who were not confined to bed rallied round his coffin yesterday, which had been put upon a bier in the hospital garden surrounded by flowers and palms.
“The principal mourners were his countrymen, who were seated on benches at the foot of the coffin; around it were the French and Belgians, the German doctors and hospital staff. Large lighted candles stood at the head of the coffin, which was covered with wreaths decorated with the English, French, Belgian, and German colours.
“Garrison Pastor Hartmann, in a moving speech, which went straight to the heart of the hearers, spoke about the deceased as a chivalrous fighter for his native land, as a good Christian and a truly noble character. It was touching to hear the parting hymn sung by the sonorous voices of the British wounded, accompanied solemnly on the harmonium by a British performer. All escorted the coffin to the gates. Once outside, it was reverently lifted on to the funeral car,which German gunners escorted to the cemetery. Four British and one French officer, as well as the German doctors who could be spared, followed in motor cars.
“At the gates of the cemetery, Lieutenant-General Schach, Colonel Lindemann, as representative of the Governor of the fortress, Major Esser, Dr. Lamberts, the chief medical officer of the garrison, deputations of the Officers’ and Medical Corps, the Band of the Reserve Battalion Pioneer Regiment No. 25, awaited the cortège.
“Pastor Hartmann spoke again, and, in words which made a deep impression on all, closed with prayer and benediction. Dr. Rademacher, the Catholic priest of the garrison, then made a funeral oration in English, affecting all who heard it.
“In the name of the hospital staff, Dr. Meyer expressed his heartfelt sorrow to the British officers present, the band played the hymn, ‘How gently they rest, those who are with the Lord,’ and, profoundly touched, Englishmen and Frenchmen shook hands with the clergy and the German officers.
“Three handfuls of earth on to the coffin of one who had found eternal rest, and the mourners dispersed.”Kölnische Zeitung.
Footnotes:[37]Now at 27, Chancery Lane, W.C.2.[38]Unoccupied, that is, by the Germans.[39]Such a regulation is a hardship. It may, however, prove unavoidable, as in some camps here. Friends of prisoners are not always wise.
Footnotes:
[37]Now at 27, Chancery Lane, W.C.2.
[37]Now at 27, Chancery Lane, W.C.2.
[38]Unoccupied, that is, by the Germans.
[38]Unoccupied, that is, by the Germans.
[39]Such a regulation is a hardship. It may, however, prove unavoidable, as in some camps here. Friends of prisoners are not always wise.
[39]Such a regulation is a hardship. It may, however, prove unavoidable, as in some camps here. Friends of prisoners are not always wise.
The following letter may not inappropriately open this section. Dr. Ella Scarlett-Synge is the daughter of the third Baron Abinger. She has a long medical experience, and served by Government appointment with Mrs. Fawcett on the Concentration Camps Commission in the Boer War. Dr. Scarlett-Synge was present in Serbia during the Austro-German invasion, she was in Germany afterwards and visited various prisoners’ camps. On her return she wrote the brief letter which follows. Of herbona fidesthere was no doubt, and she had introductions to various editors. Yet only one daily paper (The Manchester Guardian) would publish her letter. This is a small illustration of the methods of war-time. Belligerent nations manage to convince themselves that by suppression of disconcerting evidence one arrives at truth. It is easy to understand, for all of us who are frank with ourselves know the difficulty of complete fairness even in ordinary controversy. But the consequences of arguing for mere victory are in war sometimes as grave and sad as the consequences of fighting for mere victory. Dr. Synge tells us simply what she saw:
Having just returned from Serbia, via Berlin, I have one great wish, the desire to bring home to my own country the things that I have seen with my own eyes, and the truths that I have personally realised.After the South African War, I was a doctor in Canada for ten years and when, during the second year of this war, the call came from Serbia for doctors, I was one of thoseresponding, and was stationed by the Serbian Government as Medical Officer of Health for Batochina and district, where I was in residence at the time of the German invasion in October, and was with my wounded men when the German army entered northern Serbia, and saw the whole campaign.Contrary to all my expectations, the conduct of the German army was excellent in every respect. The men entered no occupied house without the permission of the owner, they took nothing without payment or a requisition paper. Never did I ask a German soldier in vain for half of his bread for a wounded Serbian soldier. Generally it was all given to me and I cut the portion and returned half.After I had been for some weeks with the German Red Cross doctors and began to realise how wrong an impression all in England had concerning our enemies, I decided to ask permission to go to Germany and see for myself whether equally wrong ideas existed concerning the treatment of British prisoners in the detention camps. This permission was accorded me, and I went to Berlin where I waited a fortnight while the War Office decided upon the matter. I was then given a long list of camps to choose from and permitted to go with an officer to inspect and report upon the same.In this short letter I can only say that I was justified in my belief that all was well with our men, and, as a fine Canadian sergeant at Giessen said to me (whose regiment I had seen march out of Vancouver a year ago), “If a man behaves himself, he will have nothing to complain of.”Now, to my sorrow, I am forced to confess that the nations do not yet incline towards peace, and to my regret I have to state that Germany’s resources at the present drain will last another four or five years. Also there is no lack of food, and one may also say of luxuries in the land. The people are united to fight as long as England wishes to continue in the useless struggle in which neither can win, for while we hold the sea, they are equally powerful on land. I can see that this is going to be a drawn war, but neither nation has yet had enough.The object of this letter is not to encourage a premature peace which would be ultimately worse than war, but to plead for a fairer treatment for our foe. Let the truth, and the truth only, be known. “Let us fight if we must fight—but not with lies.”No one, in time of peace, respects the British Press more than I do. It is the greatest power in the land. And, let me to-day appeal to that mighty influence for weal or for woe, according to whether it decides wisely or not, to play the game fairly and let the same spirit prevail that we have inour great public schools: “win if you can—but only by fair play.”—I beg to remain, Yours faithfully,Ella Scarlett-Synge, M.D., D.P.H.Hyde Park Hotel, Knightsbridge.
Having just returned from Serbia, via Berlin, I have one great wish, the desire to bring home to my own country the things that I have seen with my own eyes, and the truths that I have personally realised.
After the South African War, I was a doctor in Canada for ten years and when, during the second year of this war, the call came from Serbia for doctors, I was one of thoseresponding, and was stationed by the Serbian Government as Medical Officer of Health for Batochina and district, where I was in residence at the time of the German invasion in October, and was with my wounded men when the German army entered northern Serbia, and saw the whole campaign.
Contrary to all my expectations, the conduct of the German army was excellent in every respect. The men entered no occupied house without the permission of the owner, they took nothing without payment or a requisition paper. Never did I ask a German soldier in vain for half of his bread for a wounded Serbian soldier. Generally it was all given to me and I cut the portion and returned half.
After I had been for some weeks with the German Red Cross doctors and began to realise how wrong an impression all in England had concerning our enemies, I decided to ask permission to go to Germany and see for myself whether equally wrong ideas existed concerning the treatment of British prisoners in the detention camps. This permission was accorded me, and I went to Berlin where I waited a fortnight while the War Office decided upon the matter. I was then given a long list of camps to choose from and permitted to go with an officer to inspect and report upon the same.
In this short letter I can only say that I was justified in my belief that all was well with our men, and, as a fine Canadian sergeant at Giessen said to me (whose regiment I had seen march out of Vancouver a year ago), “If a man behaves himself, he will have nothing to complain of.”
Now, to my sorrow, I am forced to confess that the nations do not yet incline towards peace, and to my regret I have to state that Germany’s resources at the present drain will last another four or five years. Also there is no lack of food, and one may also say of luxuries in the land. The people are united to fight as long as England wishes to continue in the useless struggle in which neither can win, for while we hold the sea, they are equally powerful on land. I can see that this is going to be a drawn war, but neither nation has yet had enough.
The object of this letter is not to encourage a premature peace which would be ultimately worse than war, but to plead for a fairer treatment for our foe. Let the truth, and the truth only, be known. “Let us fight if we must fight—but not with lies.”
No one, in time of peace, respects the British Press more than I do. It is the greatest power in the land. And, let me to-day appeal to that mighty influence for weal or for woe, according to whether it decides wisely or not, to play the game fairly and let the same spirit prevail that we have inour great public schools: “win if you can—but only by fair play.”—I beg to remain, Yours faithfully,Ella Scarlett-Synge, M.D., D.P.H.
Hyde Park Hotel, Knightsbridge.
Dr. Scarlett-Synge was, at the outset, intensely anti-German. Her personal experience of Germans (both military and civilian) in war-time has profoundly modified her views. Dr. Scarlett-Synge went out from Canada to take over a position as Medical Officer of Health in the north of Serbia. She had twelve villages under her care, and found the absolute lack of sanitation or sanitary knowledge in that country very trying. At the time of the invasion, Dr. Synge was strongly urged to leave, but decided to stop with her wounded men. Strangely enough the only soldiers from whom she had to flee were the Serbians. The Serbian Army in its retreat through Batochina was absolutely drunk, officers as well as men, and while the soldiers were forcing the doors of the priest’s house, where Dr. Synge resided, she fled with the priest’s wife (at the latter’s terror-struck entreaty) through a back window. The house was rifled by the soldiers, and next day the German patrol arrived. Dr. Synge was asked by the sergeant to assure the people of Batochina that if there was no shooting, they would be perfectly safe. She was urged to collect any firearms, and the patrol then withdrew. The doctor, with the help of the people, collected 17 rifles. There was, however, one obstinate Serbian soldier who had apparently not been able to keep up with the retreat, who threatened to retain his rifle, and seemed quite capable of endangering the whole population. “Your thumb needs attention, does it not?” asked the doctor. “Just let me look at it?” The man opened his hand and she snatched his rifle away. A joyful crowd accompanied her with the rifle to the dispensary, where it was locked up.
Had there been firing by the populace, there would undoubtedly have been reprisals. Our own action inthe Boer War, and the action of the military ineveryinvasion, illustrates this fundamental rule. As it was, there was absolutely no destruction and the soldiers were scrupulously honest. When the owners had fled, their houses and their cattle were certainly made use of, but whenever the owner was present the soldiers “were not allowed to touch a single thing.” The exception proves the rule; Dr. Scarlett-Synge’s hostess had her pig stolen, but a German soldier caught her an unowned pig of larger size. She was very pleased with the exchange!
“May we use your schoolhouse for our wounded?” said the German doctors, “it seems the best place.” Dr. Scarlett-Synge was amazed. She had expected anything but this kind of politeness. Onlyoncein her three months’ experience of the Germans was she treated rudely, and that was by an extremely anti-English doctor of the Deutsche Kriegshospital No. 58, Belgrade. This particular man corresponded to a certain type of anti-German here, and a private soldier present afterwards apologised for his rudeness.
The Serbians shelled Batochina, and so killed some of their own people. While the doctor was passing through the streets, some German soldiers beckoned her to take shelter in a café where they were. This she ultimately did. “I could not have had more consideration shown me,” she averred. One little incident is singularly expressive. One of the Germans had bought a glass of brandy. Dr. Scarlett-Synge, with the picture of drunken soldiery very vivid in her remembrance, ventured to remonstrate. She pointed out to the man what the Serbians had become under the influence of drink. He said nothing, but presently he got up and threw the brandy out of the door. “There’s not much good in that stuff, anyway,” he said. It is not surprising that after such experiences the doctor was puzzled at the ordinary British view of the German army. “How do you account for theselies?” she asked a Bavarian soldier. “Ah, without lies there would be no war,” he said.
In her travels in Germany Dr. Scarlett-Synge experienced uniform kindness, and brought away with her a deep conviction of the self-sacrificing patriotism of the German people. “Moreover,” she said, “I was able to express my views to them, and they were always listened to with tolerance and courtesy.”
I give Dr. Scarlett-Synge’s experiences as she describes them. Of her own honesty and accuracy there can be no question. It may be said, with reason, that there is another side. Dr. Scarlett-Synge came across the better German and the better Germany. The important fact is that the better Germany exists, and that those who have been in Germany since the war began have found that better element conspicuous. This is much to say for a country at war.
In case Dr. Ella Scarlett-Synge’s testimony is thought to need confirmation, I may add the following from a private letter:—“Dr. A.P. was interned in Serbia for some months with about thirty other doctors and nurses. She sent to me over twelve months since saying she would like to be of some use to German prisoners in this country, as a slight return for the consideration and kindness shown by Germans and Austrians whom she had to do with while in Serbia.”
Madame F. L. Cyon was at Lille when it was taken by the Germans, and spent some time there nursing during the German occupation. Madame Cyon’s general experiences are printed in an appendix at the end of this volume, but she has given me some further details which are worth recording. I think they will serve to bring out the universal facts of human nature. From her mother, Madame D—— she heard the particulars of her father’s arrest. One of the officers who arrested M. D—— was ungentlemanly and rough, the others were polite. The house was searched.Later a second military search was made, the officers on that occasion being most polite, and apologising for the trouble they caused. As he was leaving, the chief officer said to Mme. D——, “We shall carry away with us the memory of your house as a house of peace and quietness, and of you as a very brave woman.” After her husband’s arrest, Madame D—— asked for permission to take meals to him, and this was accorded without any demur. One day later the officer just mentioned crossed the street to speak to her. “I want to bring you some good news,” he said, “the release of your husband is only a matter of time.”
M. D—— was at Maubeuge at the time of his arrest. When he and others were brought back to Maubeuge for trial they got drenched with rain on the way, and were put for that night in the old prison, which was dilapidated and without fire. M. D—— complained next day. The officer to whom he complained apologised and said their imprisonment under these conditions was entirely a mistake. During most of his imprisonment M. D—— lived on the food provided, which he described as good, but not plentiful. Two fellow prisoners complained, and were allowed to get food from outside. As narrated in the appendix, M. D—— was released when it was found that there was nothing against him. He had indeed been indiscreet in order to meet the wishes of another, but that was all. After his release he was engaged professionally in forwarding the repairs at Maubeuge, and was repeatedly in touch with the German authorities, with whom he found it quite possible to work.
For some time Madame D——’s house had guards posted outside. There was on one occasion an unpleasant incident with a drunken soldier who came and demanded wine. A sergeant who came along, however, promptly collared the man and turned him out.
It is fair to add that the long German occupation, with its many requisitions and high-handed interference, has embittered M. D. His wife, however, remains quite unembittered. In spite of all the demands, “She seemed to think that, apart from one or two exceptions, the Germans in occupation behaved very much as any army in such circumstances would have done. Indeed, she added that when the English arrived, some of them were so impertinent ... that people thought that they used to get on better with the Germans.” I have quoted part of the last clause, as it seems fair to do so. For me it illustrates the general experience that thepresentdiscomfort tends by its vividness to seem greater than past discomforts which were really equally great.
One other remark of Mme. D. should be quoted: “I have seen many of the Germans, their doctors for instance, look after the poor and the sick with utter devotion.” I have, by request, omitted personal names, except that of Madame Cyon herself.
At the occupation of Lille the Germans at once set about extinguishing fires that had broken out. In order to prevent these spreading, it was necessary to blow up some houses, and the Germans posted bills telling the people not to be alarmed at the explosions. When Madame Cyon returned to England a newspaper-reporter interviewed her. She stipulated that she must see the manuscript before the interview was published, and as she found the tone of the manuscript was not hers, she refused to let it be printed. A later interview with someone else was published in the same newspaper, in which it was made to appear that the Germans had deliberately set fire to the town. This Madame Cyon asserts is directly contrary to the facts. A similar case of exaggeration Madame Cyon noticed while in the occupied districts. There were all kinds of dreadful stories as to what went on about the country, and she was told it would never do toleave Lille. When she did leave, and made her way to Holland, she found no confirmation of these stories. Travelling was uncomfortable and tedious, but there was no peril of any kind.
In the early days of the war there were Belgian refugees at Alexandra Palace. M. Cyon was a journalist, and took his notebook with him to put down interesting facts. He wished to confine himself to facts, however, which not all journalists do. He found the women full of stories about atrocities, but they were always terrible things that had happened tosomeone else. The student of war atrocities indeed finds this to be a very general feature of the stories told. It by no means follows that atrocities do not occur. Certainly they do, but the number undergoes extraordinary exaggeration in the excited minds of the people. M. Cyon, therefore, as a serious observer, asked for one person who could speak at first hand. One of the refugees, he was told, was a woman whose little boy had been branded on both cheeks by the Germans. He was directed to this woman. He asked for her experiences, but she had nothing startling to tell. “But,” he asked, “was not your little boy very badly treated by the Germans?” “Little boy!” she exclaimed, in astonishment, “I have no little boy, I have no son at all.”
Madame Cyon had various patients at Lille. Her 24 Germans, she told me, gave her no more trouble than any ordinary patients. She had, however, four French Moroccan soldiers to nurse, and she describes them as extremely savage. She was sometimes afraid of them, and of one especially.
Madame Cyon was often overworked, and patients are not always reasonable. One evening she brought her German patients some mutton stew, and one of the wounded men made a dissatisfied remark about it. Madame Cyon was feeling very tired and the remark hurt her. She remained outside in the corridor insteadof coming to the men as usual during their meal. Presently one man who had acted as interpreter came out. “Madame, you are cross.” “Yes, I am.” “Why are you cross?” “The men have been well treated, I have done all I could, and now they grumble about nothing.” The man was very sorry, he went back, and presently all who could walk came out and apologised. How strangely alike, after all, we human beings are! But our rulers could never lead us out in armies to kill each other unless they persuaded us somehow that we only were wonderfully fine chaps, and the others were brutes. Yet the appeal of kindness and devotion tells everywhere. So when the German science student, Albin Claus, mentioned in Madame Cyon’s account (p.262), found her much overworked, he said, “You go to sleep, and I will keep watch,” and he helped in all ways to keep things right.
“I have since written to the same science student,” writes Madame Cyon; “before leaving the hospital he asked my address and I his. He told me he would always be glad to help me in any way, as he knew that I had five brothers in the French army. At the time one of my brothers was missing. I wrote to this man, then promoted a Lieutenant, and I had two letters from him via Switzerland. The correspondence was concerning my brother, and Lieutenant V. R. Albin Claus did his best to help me, and spoke in his letters of his stay in hospital 105, thanking me for my care.”
The soldier on both sides has been told all sorts of horrors about the enemy. Hatred is recognised as a great weapon of destruction. The contrast between what the soldier has seen and what he has heard is well illustrated by a story told by Mr. John Buchan in one of his lectures. A wounded Scot had said to him, of the Germans, “They’re a bad, black lot,but no the men opposite us. They were a very respectable lot, and grand fechters.”—Times, April 27, 1915.
Under the heading “War Zone Children,” the following paragraph appeared in theWestminster Gazetteof the 30th November, 1915:
The Society of Friends’ Emergency Committee for Aliens has just received the following letter from Dr. Elisabeth Rotten, of Berlin (before the war lecturer at Newnham College, Cambridge), showing that the German committee for helping alien enemies in distress is not behind similar committees in this country in looking after the little ones belonging to enemy countries:
30/11/15.Before I leave Switzerland, after a short visit, I should like to write you a few lines.I have been ten days in Belgium in order to get permission to take Belgian and French children home to their parents, who had left them in the occupied country before the outbreak of war and were now living in France or in other foreign parts.I was also to bring the first little group with me myself. Others will be fetched during the next weeks by other ladies of our committee. We spent the night in Frankfurt in the houses of German ladies, who are already looking forward to their future little guests. The whole expedition will belong to one of the pleasantest peace remembrances of the war, and it was a particular pleasure and benefit to me to see and to experience personally in the work of my mission, in how many directions and with what sincerely good and noble intentions the Governor General endeavours to mitigate personal suffering, and particularly how he cares for the children who are separated from their parents.I hope soon to write more. The children will now be taken to their parents by Swiss ladies, and I am on the point of starting for Frankfurt, where there are many important points to discuss with the Committee for Advice and Aid in connection with our common work.
30/11/15.
Before I leave Switzerland, after a short visit, I should like to write you a few lines.
I have been ten days in Belgium in order to get permission to take Belgian and French children home to their parents, who had left them in the occupied country before the outbreak of war and were now living in France or in other foreign parts.
I was also to bring the first little group with me myself. Others will be fetched during the next weeks by other ladies of our committee. We spent the night in Frankfurt in the houses of German ladies, who are already looking forward to their future little guests. The whole expedition will belong to one of the pleasantest peace remembrances of the war, and it was a particular pleasure and benefit to me to see and to experience personally in the work of my mission, in how many directions and with what sincerely good and noble intentions the Governor General endeavours to mitigate personal suffering, and particularly how he cares for the children who are separated from their parents.
I hope soon to write more. The children will now be taken to their parents by Swiss ladies, and I am on the point of starting for Frankfurt, where there are many important points to discuss with the Committee for Advice and Aid in connection with our common work.
The last-named committee is a local Frankfort Emergency Committee for Aliens.
Here is a German N.C.O. writing inVorwärtsof some experiences in the Russian occupied territory:
He describes the poverty of the people, the lack of even such necessaries of life as salt, boots, etc.; how little children are running about in the snow with bare feet, and often with no other garment on them than a shirt. He adds:
On the whole, however, the children give me great joy, though also not a little annoyance owing to their importunity. Fortunately, during my activity in connection with the school children’s gymnastic society at —— I have gained so much patience that I never permit myself to lose my temper. While I am writing this already ten or twelve children have invaded my room asking for bread. Everyone of them got something. I am now almost reduced to beggary myself, and whatever I can get hold of is given to the children, so that they may enjoy themselves. I got from a friend a few packets of ginger cakes. I gave them all away, and I do not even know how they tasted.And when I show them photographs of my children’s gymnastic society there is almost a riot. How I wish I could understand them better! A little girl of 13, who always reminds me of my own second daughter, has won my heart completely. Every day she says to me a couple of German words which she has picked up somewhere: “I don’t know,” “Potatoes without salt are no good,” “Benzine is dangerous,” and phrases like that. I cannot realise that these children belong to an enemy nation. I should have dearly loved to roam about with them through forest and field, as I used to in Berlin.—(Quoted in theDaily News, December 20, 1915.)[40]
On the whole, however, the children give me great joy, though also not a little annoyance owing to their importunity. Fortunately, during my activity in connection with the school children’s gymnastic society at —— I have gained so much patience that I never permit myself to lose my temper. While I am writing this already ten or twelve children have invaded my room asking for bread. Everyone of them got something. I am now almost reduced to beggary myself, and whatever I can get hold of is given to the children, so that they may enjoy themselves. I got from a friend a few packets of ginger cakes. I gave them all away, and I do not even know how they tasted.
And when I show them photographs of my children’s gymnastic society there is almost a riot. How I wish I could understand them better! A little girl of 13, who always reminds me of my own second daughter, has won my heart completely. Every day she says to me a couple of German words which she has picked up somewhere: “I don’t know,” “Potatoes without salt are no good,” “Benzine is dangerous,” and phrases like that. I cannot realise that these children belong to an enemy nation. I should have dearly loved to roam about with them through forest and field, as I used to in Berlin.—(Quoted in theDaily News, December 20, 1915.)[40]
The story of the child adopted by the Bedfordshires will be remembered by many. She was found in a ditch by the men on their way to the trenches, and was perforce for some time with them there.
The German trenches were about 150 yards off, and the level, open space between the two lines wasn’t healthy. Noman who valued his life would go there unnecessarily, or recklessly put his head above the parapet. One morning, to their horror the men, through the periscope, saw the child standing above the trench on the German side. Cries came from the enemy, but they were not hostile. The sight of the girl, little more than an infant, has touched their sentimental side, and she had offers of chocolate and invitations to go and see them.After that the girl went over the parapet quite often. She was as safe in that danger zone as if she had been behind the lines. No German would harm her, and once she went close up to their first-line trench.—(Daily News, February 17, 1916).
The German trenches were about 150 yards off, and the level, open space between the two lines wasn’t healthy. Noman who valued his life would go there unnecessarily, or recklessly put his head above the parapet. One morning, to their horror the men, through the periscope, saw the child standing above the trench on the German side. Cries came from the enemy, but they were not hostile. The sight of the girl, little more than an infant, has touched their sentimental side, and she had offers of chocolate and invitations to go and see them.
After that the girl went over the parapet quite often. She was as safe in that danger zone as if she had been behind the lines. No German would harm her, and once she went close up to their first-line trench.—(Daily News, February 17, 1916).
When the Austro-Hungarian troops entered Cetinje there was already serious famine:
The children in the streets were begging bread from the passing soldiers, who shared their tiny brown loaves with the hungry little children, and the military authorities at the barracks were besieged from the morning till late in the evening by the starving population.There were some fifty or sixty well-to-do better class families, who had been in Government positions before, or prominent business people, who suffered as terribly as their poorer brethren. Among those who went begging for bread to headquarters were wives of ex-Ministers and women who were ladies-in-waiting at the Royal Court only a few weeks previously. For their children’s sake they were all ready to beg for something to eat.It must be admitted that the military authorities put the soldiers on quarter rations and distributed all the available food among the suffering population. The bad condition of the roads and the consequent lack of supplies in the army itself made it impossible for them to do more.—(Daily News, February 21, 1916.)
The children in the streets were begging bread from the passing soldiers, who shared their tiny brown loaves with the hungry little children, and the military authorities at the barracks were besieged from the morning till late in the evening by the starving population.
There were some fifty or sixty well-to-do better class families, who had been in Government positions before, or prominent business people, who suffered as terribly as their poorer brethren. Among those who went begging for bread to headquarters were wives of ex-Ministers and women who were ladies-in-waiting at the Royal Court only a few weeks previously. For their children’s sake they were all ready to beg for something to eat.
It must be admitted that the military authorities put the soldiers on quarter rations and distributed all the available food among the suffering population. The bad condition of the roads and the consequent lack of supplies in the army itself made it impossible for them to do more.—(Daily News, February 21, 1916.)
On quarter rations—that is worth remembering.
We have all of us heard many stories from our soldier friends. Many statements and opinions we cannot in these days publish, but some are allowable. Such as the following: “Some of our men were hungup on the German barbed wire. We could do nothing to get at them. We saw the Germans trying to make signs from their trenches and we couldn’t at first make out what they meant, but presently some of them ventured out and took in our wounded. I turned to my mate and said, ‘They tell us all the Germans are barbarians, but that doesn’t look much like it.’ It was difficult to keep some of our men from firing on the Germans even then.” The last statement will surprise only those who have not been told the truth about war. Passion gets the upper hand of humanity, and indeed reason may support passion, for is not destruction of the enemy one of the chief aims of war? Shall we spare the enemy when rescuing theirownwounded? By war logic that would be inconceivably foolish. Hence such incidents as the following: A lieutenant of Hussars wrote on October 22, 1914, of his work in a loft which he had previously loopholed. The letter is both frank and generous, and as usual with soldiers’ letters, without any of the malicious sanctity which so besets the civilian. The letter was published in theTimes, November 26, 1914. “When I got up I could see crowds of Germans advancing. I think they have learnt a lesson from us, for they didn’t advance in masses, but in extended order like we do. They were jolly good, too.... One fellow was jolly brave. I saw him carrying back a wounded man on his back, and it made a very good target. Though we didn’t succeed in hitting him, he had to drop his man.... We were having jolly good fun.” One sentence shows how far removed are the ethics of war from the ethics of peace: “I saw him carrying back a wounded man on his back,and it made a very good target.”
And here is a case where chivalry was remembered and forgotten. The extract is from theDaily News, May 17, 1916. Most of us may get similar information privately, but it is wisest to confine oneself to what has already been published: