CHAPTER XVIIIGERMAN BARBARISM
Under the muzzles of hundreds of German guns, the prisoners disembarked and were herded together near what Hal and Chester saw was an improvised station.
Villingen was located in one of the few mining districts in Germany not far from the Swiss border. Families of the miners had long since departed, but the Germans still extracted some coal from the ground by using prisoners of war beneath the surface.
It was for such work that Hal and the other American prisoners had been brought to Villingen. While German prisoners captured by the Allies had always been well treated, Allied prisoners in German camps had been forced to undergo cruel and inhuman treatment from the early days of the war. A peculiar feature was the fact that seldom did the German authorities distinguish between officers and privates. Often British or French officers labored side by side with private soldiers in the mines and in the fields.
When the prisoners had been herded together, the German commandant of the camp approached. He was a porkish-looking individual and typically Prussian. He answered to the name of Colonel Bretz. The officer who had been in charge of the train of prisoners approached and engaged the commandant in conversation.
By the frequent looks that the pair cast at Hal and Chester, the lads knew that they were the chief subjects of the conversation. Directly the commandant walked up to them.
“Another attempt to escape and you’ll be shot like dogs!” he bellowed. He turned to one of his aides. “Put them in one of the guard cells,” he continued; “then put these other swine,” with a sweeping gesture that included the other prisoners, “in their pens and see that they are ready to go on the night shift to-night.”
He strode away. While the other American soldiers, covered by German guns, were driven toward what had once been the living quarters of the German miners, now hemmed in with steel bars—a mammoth cage—Hal and Chester were seized by a squad of soldiers and hurried in the opposite direction, where they at last were shoved into a filthy, dirty, single-story building.
It was very dark inside and for a moment the lads were unable to get a view of their surroundings. But as their eyes became accustomed to the darkness, they perceived that they were in what at one time must have served as a store building. The single room was very small and its furnishings consisted of two dilapidated chairs and a mass of dirty rags, apparently meant for a bed, on the floor.
“Nice, sanitary-looking place,” was Hal’s comment, as he walked about his prison.
“Guess a fellow wouldn’t grow very fat here,” said Chester. “Wonder how long we’ll be cooped up?”
Hal shrugged.
“No telling,” he replied, “but when we get out we’ll probably be sent down in the mines.”
“Surely they won’t send us there in our present condition,” declared Chester.
“I don’t imagine they’ll worry about a couple of sore heads,” rejoined Hal. “However, time will tell.”
“Well,” said Chester, “I’m about tired out. Think I’ll try to sleep a bit.”
“Same here; but I’ll take the bare floor for mine. I can’t stomach that mass of dirty rags there. They must be infested with vermin.”
“The floor’s bad enough,” Chester agreed.
They threw themselves down and in a few moments were fast asleep in spite of the hard floor, for both were tired out and could have slept almost any place.
It was still dark when they were aroused from their slumbers by the presence of a third figure in the room. Hal opened his eyes as a heavy foot stirred him and a voice exclaimed in German:
“Get up. You’ll have to earn your keep here.”
Hal arose and Chester also got to his feet.
“Outside, now, and march quick!” said the German lieutenant who had awakened them.
The two lads preceded the man from their prison. Outside, they inhaled the fresh air eagerly and their spirits revived.
“Where are you taking us?” demanded Hal.
“To the mines,” returned the German with a snarl, “where you’ll loose that fresh look you possess now.”
“You’re making a mistake,” said Hal quietly. “We’re not miners—know nothing about mines. We’ve never been below.”
“You’ll be miners or corpses within the next few days,” bellowed the German. “Go on there!”
“How about some grub?” questioned Hal. “We’ve had nothing to eat for more than twenty-four hours. We won’t be able to work very well without food, you know.”
“You’ll eat to-night,” snarled the German. “Not before.”
Hal shrugged again. He was hungry, felt faint, even, and so did Chester, but there was no help for it. The lads trudged on in silence.
Soon they came to the opening of the mine shaft, some distance from where they had spent the night. Other forms began to gather, and Hal guessed rightly that this was the new shift coming to work.
Men commenced to appear from below, their faces, hands and clothing black. These, the lads knew, were the prisoners who had been working all night.
There was a faint streak of light in the east. The day would break soon.
Now the German guards hustled Hal and Chester and the other prisoners into the mine shaft, where they were told off into crews of four and five men each. Hal and Chester found themselves together, with a British infantryman and a French sergeant of cavalry completing their crew. Directly, picks were thrust into their hands, and they were provided with gas helmets, upon each of which burned a small safety light. Then they were marched to the mouth of the shaft, where they awaited their turn at the car that was to carry them below.
“You fellows have not been down before, I take it,” said the English private to Hal.
“This is the first trip,” replied Hal.
“Too bad,” was the response. “It’ll be torture for you. You will probably collapse before time to come up, in which case you’ll be kicked back to consciousness. That’s what happened to me.”
“If they begin kicking me, they’ll have to go a bit further,” said Hal grimly.
“That was what I thought,” said the Englishman. “I put up a fight, but it wasn’t any use. They almost beat the life out of me, after which I was put in solitary confinement with nothing to drink and almost nothing to eat. Let me tell you, solitary confinement is worse than the mines, so if you’ll take my advice, you’ll stick and endure as long as you can, and when you’ve been kicked back to consciousness again you’ll return to work and keep your mouth shut. Am I right, Mercer?” he demanded, turning to the Frenchman.
“Oui, monsieur,” returned the latter briefly.
Again Hal shrugged.
“We’ll see,” he said shortly.
Under the guns of the guards, the four men took their places in the little elevator-car that was to carry them below.
“Get your last look at the outside world,” said the Englishman, as the starter gave the signal to descend. “It’ll be the last you get for some time.”
The little car seemed to drop from beneath the feet of Hal and Chester as it shot down in the mine. Hal was conscious of a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach. Chester drew his breath sharply.
The car stopped as suddenly as it had started.
“Here we are,” said the Englishman. “Get out.”
He led the way.
Dimly Hal and Chester could make out the interior of the mine by the light of their torches. The air was damp and cold. Both lads shivered.
“This,” explained the Englishman, “is No. 10 level. There are levels above and below us. We’ve quite a ways to go, so we’ll ride.”
Hal now saw for the first time that a steel track was before him. On this was a little car, driven by electricity. It was not a passenger vehicle, but was used for hauling the ore when mined. The car was manned by a single German, armed.
Without a word, the Frenchman took the motorman’s place. Hal, Chester and the Englishman climbed aboard and the car moved forward, the departure being made under the rifle of the German guard.
“Isn’t it dangerous down here?” asked Chester of the Englishman. “I don’t know anything about mines except that there are many fatalities in them.”
“About the only danger is that of an explosion,” the Briton replied. “If somebody should strike a match, we’d all be blown to kingdom come—at least every man on this level.”
“There are more on this level, then?” asked Chester.
“Oh, yes; probably half a hundred men. Some are ahead of us and directly more will come along here.”
“Seems to me that there might be an opportunity of making a break for liberty,” declared Hal. “There are not many guards about.”
“Not here,” the Englishman agreed, “but wait till you get to the pit. There are guards enough there and they make life as miserable for the prisoners as possible. You’re expected to work from the minute you arrive until you knock off or collapse; and if you go under, you’ll start back to work the minute you recover.”
The little car slowed down and the lads saw light ahead. It was not daylight, however, but light made by the glow of many torches. Directly the car stopped and the four occupants climbed out. Men stood about with picks and shovels, awaiting the word to go to work.
Hal and Chester found themselves placed close together with the Englishman, who gave the name of Harding, and the Frenchman, Mercer, as their nearest neighbors.
There came a command from one of the German guards and the men attacked the solid wall before them with picks and drills.
“Well,” said Hal grimly, “here’s where we go to work, Chester.”
The lads wielded their picks with the others.