"BROTHER BOSCH"

 AN AIRMAN'S ESCAPE FROM GERMANY

 BY

 CAPTAIN KNIGHT, R. A. F. 

 1919 LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN _London: William Heinemann, 1919_

 To the Memory of

 CAPTAIN MORRITT, LIEUT. MEDLICOTT, LIEUT. WALTERS, AND ALL OTHER OFFICERS, N. C. O. 'S AND MEN, WHO, BEING LESS FORTUNATE, GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE ENDEAVOUR. 

 Belovèd Country! banished from thy shore, A stranger in this prison house of clay, The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee! Heavenward the bright perfections I adore Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way, That, whither love aspires, there shall my dwelling be. 

 _Longfellow. _

 NOTE

"The spelling of the word 'Bosch' was the customary one in the Germanprisoners' camps from which the author made his escape, and isretained for the sake of local colour. "

 ERRATA

 P. 25, line 6 from bottom, _for_ "_weis_" _read_ "_weiss_. "

 P. 43, line 14, _for_ "balolaika" _read_ "balalaika. "

 P. 47, line 10 and p. 55, line 16, _for_ "_Weiswein_" _read_ "_Weisswein_. "

 P. 51, line 7, _for_ "Hammelin" _read_ "Hameln. "

 P. 126, line 20, _for_ "Pupchen" _read_ "Püppchen. "

 P. 159, line 16, _for_ "Briefeasten" _read_ "Briefkasten. "

 "BROTHER BOSCH"

 (An Airman's Capture and subsequent Escape from Germany)

 CHAPTER I

 CAPTURED

It was November 9th, 1916. I lay in a state of luxurioussemi-consciousness pondering contentedly over things in general, transforming utter impossibilities into plausible possibilities, wondering lazily the while if I were asleep. Presently, to my disgustan indefinable, yet persistent "something" came into being, almostthreatening to dispel the drowsy mist then pervading my brain. Theslow thought waves gradually ceased their surging, and after a slightpause began to collect round the offending mystery, as if seeking tounravel it in a half-hearted sort of way. They gave me to understandthat the "something" recurred at intervals, and even suggested that itmight be a voice, though from which side of the elastic dividing lineit emanated they were quite unable to say. With the consoling thoughtthat voices often come from dreamland I allowed the whole subject toglide gently into the void and the tide of thought to continue itsdrugged revolutions. The next instant a noisy whirlwind swept thecobwebs away. I knew that the voice was indeed a reality, for itdelivered the following message: "A very fine morning, sir!" Obviouslymy dutiful servant desired me to rise and enjoy the full benefit ofthe beautiful day. Agreeing with Harry Lauder, that "It's nice to getup in the morning, but it's nicer to stay in bed!" I am sorry to say Icunningly dismissed the orderly with a few false assurances, turnedover on my side and promptly forgot all about such trivial matters. Conscience was kicking very feebly, and just as sleep was about toreturn, the air commenced to vibrate and something swept overhead witha whirling roar--an "early bird" testing the air. Galvanised intoaction by this knowledge, I sprang out of bed, and seizing whatevergarments happened to be the nearest, was half dressed before I hadeven time to yawn! Then snatching up my map, coat, hat, and goggles, Iburst from the hut and began slithering along the duck-boards towardsthe hangars, at the same time endeavouring to fasten the unwillinghooks of my Flying Corps tunic and devoutly hoping that I should notbe late for the bomb raid. For weeks we had been standing by for thisraid in particular, the object of which was to bomb Douai aerodrome. This was a particularly warm spot to fly over, for in these days itwas regarded as the home of "Archies" and the latest hostile aircraft. It is, therefore, not surprising that the general feeling of thesquadron was that the sooner it was over the better for all concerned. Arrived at the sheds I was relieved to find that I was in good time, at all events. The machines (two-seater artillery machines, thencommonly known as "Quirks") were lined up on the aerodrome with bombracks loaded, their noses to the wind, awaiting the signal to ascend. I saluted the C. O. , waved to a friend or two and climbed into thepilot's seat of my waiting machine. Then, adjusting the levers, Isignified to the waiting mechanics that I was ready for them to "suckin" (an operation necessary prior to the starting of the engine). Having made sure that everything was O. K. And waited for the others toascend, I took off and, after climbing steadily for some time, took upmy specified position in the formation. For some time we circled aboutover a pre-arranged rendezvous, until joined by an escort of fightingmachines and another squadron of bombers, and then settled down tobusiness. Flying straight into the sun we soon arrived at and passedover the irregular spidery lines of trenches (those on Vimy Ridgeshowing up particularly clearly), and continued forging ahead, pastmany familiar landmarks, always in the direction of Douai. I for onenever dreamt of being taken prisoner and had every intention of makinga record breakfast on my return. My engine was going rather badly, butthe odds were that it would see me through. Only too soon theanti-aircraft started their harassing fire, throwing up a startlingnumber of nerve-racking, high explosive shells, each one a curlingblack sausage of hate and steel splinters. When we were some way overmy machine lagged behind the rest. The engine splutteredintermittently and could not be induced to go at all well. As mymachine became more isolated I cast anxious glances about and was soonrewarded by seeing two wicked little enemy scouts waiting for an easyprey (at that time they did not usually attack a formation, but waitedbehind for the likes o' me). While one scout attracted my attention onthe left and I was engaged in keeping him off by firing occasionalbursts, a machine gun opened fire with a deafening clatter atpoint-blank range from behind. In an instant the surrounding airbecame full of innumerable tiny, brilliant flames, passing me at anincredible speed like minute streaks of lightning, each one givingforth a curious staccato whistling crack as it plunged through orbeside the tormented machine, leaving in its wake a thin curling lineof blue smoke. I was in the middle of a relentless storm of burningtracer bullets, vying one with the other for the honour of passingthrough the petrol tank, thereby converting my machine into a seethingfurnace. Having no observer to defend my tail I turned steeply to meetmy new adversary. However, before completing the manoeuvre Ireceived another deadly burst of fire, which, though it somehow missedme, shot away several of my control wires. What happened next I cannotbe sure, but the machine seemed to turn over, and my machine gun felloff with a crash. This took place at an altitude of six thousand feet. My next impression was that I seemed to be in the centre of a whirlingvortex, around which all creation revolved at an extraordinary speed, and realised that my trusty steed was indulging in a particularlyviolent "spinning nose dive. " A "spin" at the best of times rathertakes one's breath away, so, shutting the throttle, I endeavoured tocome out of it in the usual way. To my surprise, the engine refused toslow down, or any of the controls to respond, except one, which onlytended to make matters worse. 

The one thing left to be done was to "switch off" and trust to luck. This, however, was more easily decided on than accomplished, for bythis time the machine was plunging to earth so rapidly, with theengine full on, that I felt as if I were tied to a peg-top, which wasbeing hurled downwards with irresistible force. Fighting blindlyagainst the tremendous air-pressure, which rendered me hardly able tomove, I forced my left arm, inch by inch, along the edge of the"cockpit" until I succeeded in turning the switch lever downwards. Aglance at the speedometer did not reassure me, the poor thing seemedvery much overworked. Descending very rapidly I kept getting a glimpseof a pretty red-roofed village, which became ominously more distinctat every plunging revolution. 

I vaguely thought there would be rather a splash when we arrived atour destination, but at eight hundred feet Providence came to therescue. I heard the welcome cessation of the wild screaming hum of thestrained wires. After switching on, the engine informed me with muchspluttering that it was sorry that I should have to land on the wrongside, but it really had done its best. I had just managed to turntowards our trenches, when the scout pilot, seeing I did not land, atonce followed me down and with its machine gun impressed on me thatthe sooner I landed the better. As I was then a long way over thelines, sinking fast towards the tree-tops, I had no alternative, soendeavoured to reach the village green. By this time the machine wasliterally riddled with bullets, though, luckily, I had not beentouched. Before landing I overtook a German horseman, so thinking tointroduce myself I dived on him from a low altitude, just passing overhis head. Well, scare him I certainly did, poor man; he was much toofrightened to get off, and seemed to be doing his best to get insidehis would-be Trojan animal. The machine landed on a heap of picks andshovels, ran among a number of Huns who were having a morning wash atsome troughs (or rather I should say, a lick and a promise!). Theyscattered and then closed in on the machine. I ran one wing into apost, and tried the lighter, which did not work. I was a prisoner. Undoubtedly, the next German communique announced that the gallantLieutenant X. Had brought down his thirtieth machine; it is probablethat this gallant officer had heard strange rumours of what lay behindthe British lines, but preferred cruising on the safer side. I couldhardly believe that these grey-clad, rather unshaven men who jabberedexcitedly were genuine "Huns. " I was furious and very "fed-up, " butthat did not help, so turning in my seat and raising my hand I said, "_Gutten Morgen_. " This surprised them so much that they forgot to berude and mostly returned the compliment. 

 CHAPTER II

 CAMBRAI

The immediate treatment I received was rather better than I hadexpected. Several officers came forward, and one, who held a revolver, told me in broken English to get out. So leaving my poor old machine, we proceeded to the village headquarters. 

Photographers appeared from nowhere and I was twice "snapped" on theway, though I'm afraid I did not act up to the usual request, "lookpleasant. " On arriving at a small house I was received by a Germangeneral, who looked rather like an Xmas tree, the Iron Crosses were sonumerous. As I stood to attention he politely inquired if I spokeGerman, even condescending to smile faintly when I replied, "Ja, unpeu!" At first when I answered a few preliminary questions he waspoliteness itself. He then asked for my squadron number, to which Icould only reply that I was sorry but could not answer him, whereuponhe pointed out that it was of no military value whatever, and that itwas only to assist in my identification in the report of my capturewhich would go to England. So thoughtful of him; such a plausibleexcuse! Of course I remained silent, whereupon "_la politesse_"vanished and an angry Hun took its place. He screamed, threatened, andwaved his arms about, but as I did not seem very impressed at thedisplay, he rushed out of the room, slamming the door and notreturning. Oh, for a "movie" camera! A Flying Corps officer then tookme in a car to an aerodrome, and told me I should have lunch with theofficers at the chateau, where they were quartered. Here I met aboutnine German airmen, who greeted me in a typically foreign manner. Theyseemed quite a nice lot on the whole, though I did not know them longenough to really form an opinion. Soon a good German gramophone wasplaying and lunch began. The food was rather poor, but champagneplentiful. During the meal the gramophone, which was nearest to me, finished a record, so getting up I changed the needle and started theother side. But it wasn't the "Bing Boys" this time! Strange to say, they were quite astonished at this performance, thinking, perhaps, that I could not change the needle. Afterwards, at coffee, alieutenant asked me what we thought of their flying corps, to which Ireplied that I thought it was all right. He seemed quite prepared forthis, and hastily said that I must remember that they had fewermachines. I think it must have occurred to every captured airman howsplendid it would be to steal an enemy aeroplane and fly back, thenafter a graceful landing report to the C. O. That you had returned. These flights are not infrequently pleasurably accomplished inimagination, but such opportunities do not often, if ever, presentthemselves. 

Just before leaving the chateau, I excused myself and got as far asthe back door, where I had to explain to some German orderlies that Iwas only trying to find my coat. I was taken by car to corpsheadquarters at another chateau, where I saw some young officers, elegantly dressed, lounging about. After much useless bowing andscraping I was again interrogated by an objectionable colonel, butthey seemed used to failure, and soon ceased their efforts. A majorwho assisted spoke English well, and made himself quite pleasant tillI left. On hearing that I was in the Devons he told me that on leavingthe university his father had sent him to live at a small village nearBarnstaple, where he had remained for several years. Doubtless, ahard-working man of leisure! He seemed a very able officer, butdecidedly young for a German major. On being told that all leathergoods were confiscated, I was forced to give up my Sam Brown belt muchagainst my will. They seemed very familiar with the movements of ourtroops, and I noticed that though their telephones were rather largeand clumsy they carried slight sounds very distinctly, so much so, that when at the other end of the room I could hear practically thewhole conversation. 

Towards evening the major told me to get ready to go to Cambrai, andat the same time said, that as my leather flying coat was alsoconfiscated they had cut off the fur collar, which he then handedback. This rather annoyed me, so I told him to keep it, which incidentI regretted afterwards. However, he lent me a German coat, which wassome comfort. On the way to Cambrai we again passed near the lines, some British star shells being plainly visible. What a difference afew kilometres make! The Germans depend on their railway transportmore than we do. Certainly their road transport cannot be comparedwith ours. We passed a few cars and motor lorries, the majority givingone the impression that they were falling to bits, so noisy and shabbywere they. I only saw two or three motor cyclists the whole time, andthose I did see rode machines of an antiquated pattern. We passed alot of horse transport, nearly all the ambulances in the districtbeing horse drawn. Most cars, including our own, were only capable ofemitting useless squeaks on emergencies. 

Soon we entered Cambrai, an old, picturesque French town, and drew upat the entrance to the citadel, where a guard allowed us to enter. Iwas then left with a Lieutenant Schram, the intelligence officer, whogave me coffee and cigars and plied me with questions. He was veryanxious to discover all he could about our tanks, and possessed manysupposed models, mostly not in the least like them. He emphasised theopinion that, of course we should not get Bapaume, at the same timeallowing he thought there might be a moving battle in the spring. Fromhis conversation I gathered that they were very familiar withformation and movements of most of our Colonial units. The_tête-à-tête_ at an end, I was taken to my quarters, a barewhitewashed room, containing one French flying officer, two Britishlieutenants, if I remember rightly, both in the D. L. I. , having beentaken near Bapaume, and also a Canadian sergeant-major. It isunnecessary to say how pleased I was to see them. Some one hadacquired a portion of an old magazine, which was much sought after, itbeing the only means of passing the time. Our sleeping accommodationconsisted of two old straw mattresses, one on the floor and the otheron a shelf above. 

Being tired we slept soundly, but in the morning we were horrified tofind we had not been alone, but that quite a varied menagerie hadshared our couches with us. Why the blankets did not run away in thenight I cannot think. The Huns promised to have lots of things donebut never did anything, in fact, they lie as easily as they breathe, even when there is nothing to be gained by it. 

A comparatively nice N. C. O. Was in charge of us, called Nelson! Weafterwards learnt that his father had been English, and that his ownknowledge of England appeared to be confined to an Oxford restaurant. One day when our lunch, consisting of black and watery soup, wasbrought up he sympathetically remarked that it was a pity we could nothave chicken and ham. I wonder what he would have done had some oneenticingly rattled a shilling on a plate?

During the day we were allowed to walk round the barrack square forabout three hours with eighty British and a hundred and fifty Frenchsoldiers, some of whom were daily detailed to work in the town. Inoticed that the Germans were inclined to treat our soldiers theworst, frequently shouting threats at them in their gutturallanguage. In the evenings I sometimes managed to get downstairs withthe men, and in this way was able to join in some impromptusing-songs. Sanitary arrangements were very bad and disinfectantsunknown. We were allowed to buy a little extra bread and some turnipjam at exorbitant prices, which helped us considerably, as breakfastconsisted only of luke-warm acorn coffee, lunch of a weird soupcontaining sauerkraut or barley, supper of soup or tea alternate days. We amused ourselves by carving our names on the table, or by drawingregimental crests or pictures of Hun aeroplanes descending in flames, in out of the way corners. On being told that toothbrushes were out ofstock (I do not think they ever were in), I manufactured a home-madeone on boy scout lines. It consisted of a small bundle of twigs andsplinters tied together (like a young besom), and though it did itswork well, the morning sweep was decidedly painful. 

 CHAPTER III

 ADVENTURE NO. 1

After remaining there a week we were told that we should leave thenext morning for Germany, which we should grow to like very much!During our stay, except for a few exciting intervals when Britishmachines passed over the town, we had plenty of time for meditation, and usually when darkness fell could see by the gun flashes that theevening strafe was in progress. This always reminded me of an argumentwhich had once taken place in our squadron mess, late one eveningbefore turning in, during which I had expressed the opinion thatshould any one with infantry experience be forced to land the wrongside just before dark, provided he could avoid Huns, it might be justpossible for him to return the next night through the trenches. Now Ifelt it was up to me to prove it should such an opportunity presentitself. 

Cambrai citadel is both solid and imposing, and must have proveditself a formidable fortress. Crowning a slight eminence, itoverlooks most of the town. On the three sides are ramparts, varyingfrom about twenty to sixty feet in height, while on a fourth it is nowbounded by barbed wire and high railings, with only a slight drop onthe other side. At the main entrance the road crosses the old moat andpasses under a massive archway which adjoins the guardroom. All theapproaches to the outer walls are guarded by quantities of barbed wireand numerous sentries. 

After a thorough search I at last discovered a small round hole in thewall of an outbuilding near the roof, through which I decided it wouldbe possible to squeeze, in the dusk, unobserved by the sentry. The newGerman coat I had received on the way had been again in its turnexchanged for an old French one. This I took to the men's quartersand, finally, after hunting the whole place, found an old German coathanging up. After bargaining for some time I made my fourth exchange, and returned successful. Later in the afternoon an English N. C. O. Toldme that he had heard of my search and presented me with an old Germanfatigue cap which had been unearthed somewhere by his pals. 

Now having everything ready I determined to try my luck about sixo'clock that evening before being shut up for the night. Afterlearning some new German words likely to be of use, such as "wireentanglements, " "dug-outs, " etc. , I returned to my room and waited. Myplan was to follow the gun flashes, which in all probability wouldlead me to the Bapaume area, where I expected to find some wire orwooden posts, which I should carry with me as I approached the lines, and endeavour to avoid suspicion by mingling with working parties asan engineer. If thus far successful I hoped to repair the German wireentanglements, which in this district were much damaged by our shellfire, and eventually slip away and get into touch with our patrols. 

At a quarter to six a German flying officer entered our room andinvited me to dinner at their Cambrai headquarters, assuring me thatthere would be plenty to eat and drink. (I expect after skilfullymixed drinks they hoped to loosen my tongue. When a Hun lays himselfout to be pleasant it is almost certain that in some way he expects tobenefit by it. ) If you wish to realise how tempting this offer was, live on a watery starvation diet for eight days and then be given theopportunity of a good meal. However, when I excused myself on the pleaof being a little unwell, "Mein freund" was quite non-plussed. Whilehe was still trying to extract information, unsuccessfully, from theothers, I left the room after pocketing a slice of bread. 

Once in the outhouse I chose my time and, climbing up to the hole inthe wall, squeezed myself through with difficulty, for it was onlyjust large enough. When the sentry's back was turned I dropped to theground on the other side, about ten feet below, making considerablenoise. I was now past the line of barbed wire, but there stillremained the ramparts to negotiate. Never having been able to see overthis point from our quarters we had no means of ascertaining the dropto the ground below. The corner of the ramparts I was making for wasunder forty yards away, but it took me about three-quarters of an hourto get there, crawling on crackling dry leaves under the shadow of thewall. The slightest noise would probably have attracted the sentry'sattention and caused him to switch on the electric light, which theyall carry slung round their necks. Oh! what a noise those leaves made!Just before I got to the wall I heard rather a commotion outside theguardroom, and although expecting to get at least a night's startbefore my absence was discovered, concluded that I had already beenmissed. (Afterwards I found that this was indeed the case, as theGerman flying officer on leaving had told the commandant that I wasunwell; a doctor was then sent up, but I could not be found. ) Gettingup, I ran to the wall and looked over. In the dusk I faintlydistinguished some bushes below. The glance was not reassuring, but"the die was cast, " and over I went. I shall always remember thathorrible sensation of falling. It took longer than I expected to reachthe ground. Instantaneously there flashed through my brain a formula Ihad learnt at school, _i. E. _, that an object falling increases itsvelocity thirty-two feet per second. I now realised for the first timehow true it was. The drop was somewhere between twenty and thirtyfeet. Just near the ground my fall was broken by my being suspendedfor the fraction of a second on some field telephone wires, whichbroke and deposited me in the centre of a laurel bush, which split inhalf with a crash. It is not so much the fall but the sudden stopwhich does the damage. My breath being knocked out of me and seeingseveral floating stars of great brilliance, I vaguely wondered if Iwere dead, but I was considerably relieved to find that this was notthe case. No bones broken, only some bruises. As I was getting to myfeet I heard some one coming down a gravel path which passed besideme. Crouching down, I saw it was a civilian, who proceeded to light acigar and passed on. I followed suit by lighting my one and onlycigarette, and after cutting a stick, entered a darkened street, externally a perfectly good Hun. 

But even German soldiers are subject to restrictions and I might beasked questions. Consequently, my one idea was to get out of the townas quickly as possible. I met two French women, to whom I explained myposition, and asked the nearest way into the country. They werefrightened and unwilling to talk at first, but when I opened my coatand showed them the British uniform underneath, they pointed to a roadwhich I followed. Soon the town was left behind and I was making forthe gun-flashes and crossing a turnip field. Swinging along at a goodpace the turnip-tops whipped my boots and made quite a noise. Suddenlya challenge rang out from a small railway bridge. "_Halt! Wer da!_"(On these occasions it seems as if one's heart has been put to thewrong use, it being really fashioned to be a pendulum for agrandfather clock. ) The next second an electric light was switched on, but I had already fallen among the turnips, endeavouring to make anoise like one (a turnip). Then ensued an interesting silence fraughtwith many possibilities. Did the turnip's voice deceive the Hun? Atany rate the light was soon turned off, much to my relief; thenquietly I slipped away. After about an hour's walking across country Icame to what I supposed to be a stream, showing up in the moonlight, with a few bushes growing along the side. Walking parallel to it for afew yards and not seeing a bridge, I thought it might be quiteshallow, so tested it with a stick. Imagine my pleasant surprise whenI found that it was not water at all, but a narrow white concretepath, evidently newly made. I noticed that nearly all roads runningparallel to the front had a very deep trench dug on the east (German)side. Presumably, these were later used considerably when we wereengaged in shelling the roads. Soon I came to the Cambrai Canal, whichhad to be crossed, and as it was the middle of November it gave me theshivers even to look at the dark water. After walking some distancedown the tow-path, I encountered a Hun. Though not feeling at all boldI said, "_G'nacht_, " which I felt sounded feeble, though I knew it tobe the correct thing in some parts of Germany. To this he replied, "_Abend_" (evening). (Quite a valuable lesson in the usual customamong soldiers. )

Skirting a few houses and a timber yard I approached a largewell-built iron railway bridge spanning the canal. Climbing over somebarbed wire I cautiously mounted the embankment. Looking along thebridge I saw there were two lines separated by some arched irongirders. From recent experience I knew that this must be stronglyguarded, but reasoned that if I closely followed a train I should inall probability find the line free for a few seconds. Presently afreight train came rumbling along, and I rushed after it in a whirl ofair, in my haste almost being knocked down by the end carriages. Asthe bridge was rather long and the train going fast, in a very shorttime I was being left stranded. When I was nearing the other side Istopped an instant to listen. It was just as well I did. Not more thanthree yards away, on the other side of the ironwork, a man spoke inGerman and was immediately answered by another, who turned on hislight and commenced walking towards the end of the bridge I was makingfor, to return to his old beat on my line. There was no time to lose, so rushing back on tip-toe and down the embankment I fell over thebarbed wire at the bottom, which painfully impressed on me itsdisapproval of my conduct. 

After following the canal for a few hundred yards there seemed noalternative but to swim across, so in I went, greatcoat and all. Itwas awfully cold. At first my clothes and fleeced-lined flying bootsheld the air and supported me, so that I lay on the surface of thewater as if bathing in the Dead Sea, feeling very ridiculous. But onlytoo soon everything filled up and I felt like a stone. Swimming assilently as possible, I had almost reached the opposite bank, feelingvery tired, when I saw something glisten just in front which lookedvery like a bayonet, and a man's voice shouted "_Hier_. " Picture thesituation: a dark but starry November night, Hun sentry guardingbarges, and a poor wretch floundering about in the water, then youwill not be surprised that my heart after jumping into my mouth, worked overtime again! The Hun thought I was a dog; I must be onewithout delay if I wished to preserve a whole skin, so after aspluttering growl I turned back with new energy, swimming like a dogand whining softly. After again calling to me several times he threw afew things in my direction, which fortunately went wide. I then swamround a barge and with a great effort pulled myself out of the water, rewarding the Hun, who was now calling a friend, with a final bark. Iran across a field with the water pouring from me. I did not think onecould be so cold, an icicle was warm in comparison! With numb fingersI wrung some of the water out of my clothes, and with chattering teethconsidered the situation. Here I was, still on the wrong side--theonly thing left to try was a village bridge. Again following thetow-path I neared some lights, which proved to be a hospital, andfound myself in an apparently unoccupied station-yard, among a numberof large heaps. On raising a corner of a tarpaulin which covered thenearest I recognised the familiar wicker crates, which containedsomething heavy. It was an ammunition dump! I soon found the name ofthe station on the deserted platform--Mannièrs. 

As I was leaving the dump, thinking of a possible future, and what alovely explosion one well-directed bomb would make, I heard some onecoming towards me. At once hopping off the road I crouched against oneof the shell heaps where the darkness was more dense, my weightcausing the wicker to creak. But the seemingly deaf individual passedby and I breathed again. Entering the main village street at a goodpace, whistling a German tune, I was accosted by two Huns carrying aheavy basket on a stick. One inquired of me the way to someheadquarters. I dared not stop, so turning my head, growled out asullen "_Ich weiss nicht_" (I don't know). They seemed grieved at mybad manners, but were soon left behind. Although it was very late anumber of troops were still singing uproariously in the variousestaminets which I passed. On turning a corner I saw the villagebridge and on it a sentry box. While I stood in the dark shadow of ahouse a small party of Germans, carrying saddlery, overtook me. Tacking myself on casually behind some of them we all passed over thebridge quite happily, and feeling in a cheeky mood I wished the sentry"good evening. "

Once more I was passing swiftly over the country, devoutly hopingthere would not be any more canals. Several hours passed uneventfully. Some of the concrete paths leading in the right direction affordedexcellent walking. They were mostly new and appeared to be only laidon the mud without any foundation. On a small rise I came upon atrench system under construction (probably the now famous Hindenburgline), which I examined. The few dug-outs I saw were incomplete, thetrenches rather wet and shallow and not yet sandbagged. After crossingtwo lines of more or less continuous trenches I inspected the wireentanglements, wooden posts (charred, so as not to show up in aerialphotographs) and iron corkscrews which were already in position, butonly a little fine and barbed wire as yet, which was quite easy to getthrough. Although the firing had died down it continued sufficientlyto enable me to keep my direction. Just as I was leaving thesetrenches behind my progress was arrested by a sudden jerk, and I foundmyself lying face downwards full length in the mud. A carefully laidwire had tripped its first "Engländer"! I was now plastered with mudfrom head to foot, and getting up in a very bad temper determined thatat least that portion of wire should not interfere with anotherBritisher. After a short struggle I succeeded in tearing it up andwent on my way somewhat appeased. 

The front was now quite quiet, and after many falls, footsore andtired, I came to a large wood (the Bois de Logeost) a little beforedawn. In this I hoped to find cover for the day, but it was full oftransport, and many dim lights proclaimed the presence of huts. I hadbeen walking parallel to it for some distance when a British aeroplanedropped some bombs too close to be pleasant, causing quite a stir inthe wood, shortly followed by an anti-aircraft gun opening fire notfar away. I have never felt so small in my life, and while tramping onin a dejected manner, in imagination I was flying once again over thelines, the occupied territory lying below me like a map: but in spiteof the tranquillity of the scene (for in this pleasant dream not a gunwas in action) I became conscious of a disturbing element somewhere, something was out of place. To what was it due? Then all at once Irealised that it was all connected with an infinitesimal object whichwandered aimlessly about among the German batteries, and yet attractedevery one's attention. Vaguely I wondered what it could be? Then thedream slowly faded, and as reality took its place I knew that I wasthat atom! When things were quiet again I distinctly heard plonk, plonk, plonk, the sound made by hand grenades, rising from the lowerground in front, this was soon followed by the fainter cracking of amachine gun and a brilliant Verey light, which I concluded was fromthree to four miles away. All at once, just beside me, there was ablinding flash, immediately followed by a deafening roar and thescreaming hiss of a shell, the latter lasting several seconds, thenslowly dying away into the night with a sigh. One of the Germanheavies had fired from a neighbouring clump of trees. Had my skin beenany looser I should certainly have jumped out of it. Very soon I heardthe distant explosion of the bursting shell--Cr--ump, and then dashedoff in the opposite direction. 

 CHAPTER IV

 RETAKEN

The country was very bare and the lines so close that there were nohay or straw stacks about. The stars were beginning to fade from thesky, so hastily retracing my steps for about a mile, in search ofcover, I almost fell over a tiny straw heap in the middle of a field. It was close to a village, but as no tracks passed anywhere near it Idecided that this should be my hiding place for the day. After eatingthe remains of the black bread, now a sloppy mass in my pocket, Iemptied the water which still remained in my flying boots and placedthem in a side of the heap to dry, just below the surface. Wrapping myslightly drier overcoat round my feet for warmth, I wormed my way intothe centre, and pulled the straw after me. The bottom of the heap waswet and contained mice, which squeaked when my teeth stoppedchattering for a few seconds. I tried meowing, but they were not takenin for long! Sleep was out of the question, and there was nothing elseto do but watch the cold grey fingers of light creeping through thewet straw. From my knowledge of the front, I gathered that I hadarrived north of my objective, where the Huns were expecting our nextattack, and the trenches were strongly held. Had I a sporting chanceor were the odds against me too great? If the latter was the case andit was impossible, I prayed that I might be recaptured before makingthe attempt the next night. 

The minutes passed like hours, but at last the sun rose, evidentlyvery much against its will. About ten o'clock next morning I faintlyheard the thud of horse's hoofs approaching at a canter from thedirection of the village. At first I thought nothing of it, but asthese grew rapidly louder and louder, my uneasiness increased and Ilay perfectly still under the straw. The horse came straight to myheap, and stopped dead at the German word of command, "R-r-r-r-r"(whoa!). Soon the rider uttered an exclamation and, leaning over, drewout a flying boot, to my dismay, but as this was wet, muddy and oldlooking he soon threw it down again. In the meantime the horse keptsniffing and nibbling at the straw which thinly covered my face, and Ifelt inclined to repeat to myself an old nursery rhyme: "Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!" As the brute continuedblowing the straw from my face, I tried to make him desist byreturning the compliment by blowing back at him. He jumped and threwup his head, but now his curiosity being thoroughly aroused returnedto his explorations with renewed vigour, partly uncovering me. I didnot move, but knew that the game was up when the rider drew his breathin sharply. Looking up I saw surprise written on every feature of thebearded Hun N. C. O. He was a thick-set man with a revolver holster athis belt. I had no chance of resistance, as the country was quite openand my boots were off, so sitting up I greeted him with a "_GuttenMorgen_. " He saw that I was an English "_Flieger_" (airman), butfirmly refused to believe that I was an officer. He told me I was nearAchiet-le-Petit, and then motioned me to go with him to the village, which I did. (An account of the foregoing episode appeared in theGerman papers later. )

We went straight to the village headquarters, where there were severalofficers spotlessly dressed in blue or field-grey, against which mytramp-like appearance formed a strange contrast. They were quitedecent, with one exception, a sour-looking captain, and were ratheramused than otherwise, even allowing a Frenchwoman to make me somecoffee. When I remarked on the wonderful way in which the Germans hadtraced me from Cambrai, they laughed and said my discovery was purelyaccidental, the N. C. O. Having been detailed to find some straw for thetransport. I was sent back to Cambrai in a wagon with an armed guardof three, exclusive of the driver and the mounted N. C. O. I was veryannoyed on being told that the latter would receive the Iron Cross, and tried to impress on them that my discovery was entirely due to thehorse, who deserved a bran mash. It was bitterly cold and, on passingthrough every village, I was made to remove my coat to show theinhabitants that I was a prisoner. I was quite pleased when we arrivedat our destination. 

The commandant received me with a growl, and I was taken to theguardroom, where the same Hun N. C. O. Casually informed me that I wasto be shot. In an unconvincing way I told myself this was nonsense. The next move was not at all reassuring. I was marched through theback door into a tiny courtyard, accompanied by the sergeant of theguard and several privates armed with rifles! I am glad to say thatthe bluff was soon over, and I was put into a half dark stone cell. Ina short time I was fished out to see Lieutenant Schram, who told methat I was the first to escape from there, but that I should never getanother opportunity. He went on to say that when my disappearance hadbeen discovered the previous evening, it was thought that I hadclosely followed the flying officer who had asked me to dinner when heleft through the main gate, until the broken wires were found. Men andtrained dogs had then endeavoured to trace me, but that, unfortunately, they had all gone the wrong way!

When I was taken back at the end of the interview, a sergeant-majorand a corporal thought they would have some fun at my expense. Theyopened my cell door and then led me to a comparatively comfortableroom close by, and asked me which I preferred. However, I upset theircalculations by entering my original cell and sitting down. As theresult of an argument which ensued I was put into the better room, where I fell asleep. This comfort was only short-lived, and soon, byorder of the commandant, I was put into the original cell again. Itsnowed all the next evening, and when the sergeant brought me mywatery supper, I asked if he would stand my boots by the guardroomfire that night as the fleece held such a quantity of water. He seemedsurprised at my request, but said that he would ask. He soon returnedand said that it could not be done. It was four days before I felt atall warm, my clothes drying on me all the time. I have since beentold that Lieutenant Schram, while speaking of me later to othercaptured officers, asserted that he dried all my clothes for me. Yetthis same gentleman during his first interrogation asked me why weEnglish called them uncultured!

On the afternoon of the fourth day I was ordered to get ready toproceed to Germany, as enough prisoners had been captured at theBeaumont Hamel show to make up a large draft. At the main entrance Ifound a group of about twenty officers, composed of eight or tenZouaves and the remainder British. Then off we went to the station inhigh spirits, for it is not often that one gets a chance of a tour inGermany, _via_ France and Belgium, free of charge!

 CHAPTER V

 OSNABRÜCK

Our guards had mostly been selected from different regiments, onaccount of their being due for leave in Germany. The officer in chargetravelled separately. He had recently been wounded, and had seenrather more of the British than he cared; in consequence he was almosthuman! Not yet being dry and now having no overcoat, I felt decidedlycold. We arrived late at St. Quentin and settled down for a long wait, but our good spirits were infectious and, besides, some of our numberhad with them a surplus of turnip jam, and we were allowed to sing. This we did with a vengeance, and it was indeed curious to hear thedesolate waiting-room echoing the popular strains of: "Pack up yourtroubles in your old kit bag, and smile, smile, smile. " This impromptuconcert delighted the French, who joined in as best they could. Soonwe had quite a little audience of solitary Huns, who peeped throughthe open door and listened to the "Mad English, " open-mouthed. Atlast the express steamed in from the south-east and in quite anexhausted condition we were graciously shown in to second-classcompartments in a way which clearly said "Second class is much toogood for you. "

After a tedious journey, during which we received something to eat, wearrived at Cologne about eleven o'clock the next morning. The stationcontained almost every variety of Hun. These people represented thecowards who in 1914 had flung stones at and otherwise insulted thosebrave men of our old regular army, who stopped at this station, packedin cattle trucks like animals, mostly wounded and dying. Nearly twoyears of war have passed since then, bringing with them suffering anda certain refining influence which had not altogether been without itseffect. Now, though most of them stared rudely, few showed signs ofopen hostility. Following our officer down some steps and windingsubways, we were approaching a large restaurant, when a rather seniorHun officer ran after us, cursing us in German for not saluting himwhen we had passed him on the platform! One of the British replied, "_Nix verstand_" (_No compris_). Whereupon he went away thoroughlydisgusted. 

One of our party, a major of the 9th Zouaves, who spoke German verywell, asked if we might have some refreshments, to which the officeracquiesced. We entered a large and almost unoccupied room separatedfrom the main dining-hall by a glass screen, and took up our positionsat a table by the window. Immediately outside towered the famouscathedral, shutting out most of the sky, the spires and countlesspinnacles showing up to great advantage in the sunshine. Soon a waiterappeared with a menu containing a list of weird dishes, the mostpopular of which was a very thin slice of sausage reposing on a verylarge slice of black bread. This cost one mark (but perhaps they sawus coming!). Great excitement was caused when some one found it waspossible to obtain goose, but as our very limited supply of money wasalmost exhausted this had to be ruled out. The fish salad when itarrived was _peculiarly_ nasty. It was almost raw and had anoverpowering flavour of mud! Beer did not seem to be allowed, but atip soon settled that, and we all received large glasses of lightlager. The people in the hall were a funny-looking crowd but quiteamusing to watch, mostly drinking quantities of beer and regarding uswith sullen curiosity through the glass screen. The majority of themen were ugly and square-headed, with closely-cropped hair, remindingone of a group of convicts. Some of the girls, however, gave usencouraging smiles. 

When the bills were being settled up, there strode in an angry Germanmajor, complete with helmet and sword, who entered into a violentconversation with our unfortunate officer, who stood at the salutemost of the time. After making a noise like a dog fight he departedwith a final gesticulation in our direction. We did not know what therow was about, but suppose that the officer in charge had been thusstrafed in public, either for bringing us there or allowing us to havebeer. At any rate, we were hurried out to await our train on theplatform. A small circle soon formed round us, largely made up ofsailors, whom we concluded must be on indefinite leave. As our trainwas steaming up a civilian gave vent to his feelings by fixing hisevil eyes upon us and at the same time moving his lips with a deadlypurpose, cursing us inaudibly. I should never have thought a facecould express such condensed hatred. He must have been conversing withhis Satanic Master. However, as we only smiled sweetly in return, hecannot have felt much satisfaction. Before getting into our train wespent our last few _pfennigs_ buying sweets at an automatic slotmachine. The acquired sweets were wrapped in a paper covering, onwhich different notices were printed, the majority were to thiseffect: "Remember the shameful _Baralong_ outrage, in punishment forwhich our airships shall devastate the Eastern Counties of England anddestroy London. " We showed this to our guards, who firmly believedthat it would shortly come to pass, and could not understand ouramusement. A few minutes out from Cologne, as we went rushing over along iron bridge, we celebrated our crossing the Rhine by winding upour watches and singing the popular song: "When we've wound up thewatch on the Rhine. "

In the late afternoon the train passed through Essen, the blastfurnaces casting a lurid light on the surrounding country. Travellingnorthwards we ran into snow, which, when we alighted was quite deep. This was our destination, Osnabrück. At first it looked as if weshould have to walk to the camp, but the German officer was, luckily, able to hire two brakes, and away we went. Osnabrück is an old townwith a population of about 60, 000. We drove past numbers of childrenand dogs revelling in the first winter sports, utterly regardless oftheir country's serious condition. On our arrival an officer andseveral N. C. O. 's took all particulars and descriptions. It was onlythen that I discovered, to my astonishment, that my eyes were blue. Next we found a hot shower-bath in store for us, during whichprocedure all our clothes were taken away on the excuse that they wereto be disinfected. We enjoyed the bath very much and were longing fora clean change, but were disgusted to find that this was notforthcoming, and that we had to put on the same torn and muddy clothesonce more, which the Huns had only removed to search. We were thenlocked in a room for ten days and told that we were in quarantine, noaccount being taken of the three weeks or a month that some of us hadalready spent in the German lines. The whole thing was a farce. Wecould then buy a change of underclothing, and daily consumedprodigious quantities of Dutch chocolate, also procurable from thecanteen (which I afterwards bought in Holland for one-tenth of theprice). Some of the British who had been in the camp for some timemanaged to get books and a little food in to us. A great deal of ourtime was occupied in making out orders for things we wanted from home, edibles taking by far the most important part. Every evening aftersupper we always drank the King's health in tea. Though the quality ofthe beverage was weak, our loyalty had never been stronger. When extradull our home-made band played some rousing selection; my specialinstrument required much skill, and consisted of the dustbin lid and apoker. The climax was reached one day when the sentry entered with apaper from the canteen, announcing that the British claimed to haveshot down two Zeppelins in flames over London. 

Eventually the tenth day passed and we were free to go in with theothers, who at once made us welcome. Owing to the monotony of camplife it is very difficult to write a consecutive account of the dailyroutine, which would be of any interest to the reader. I shalltherefore only outline certain points under various headings, which Iventure to hope may not prove a source of boredom, judging from thenumerous questions contained in letters of enquiry directed to me. 

ACCOMMODATION. --The main three-storey building was a converted Germanartillery barracks, with the gravelled courtyards used for exercisingdivided by a disused riding-school. The prisoners consisted of aboutseventy-five French, living on the ground floor, and eighty-fiveBritish, mostly R. F. C. , taken at the Somme, living on the secondfloor, and from one hundred and fifty to two hundred Russians on thethird. The rooms each contained from four to ten beds, according tothe size, which we usually stacked two deep so that they should takeup as little space as possible. With the aid of wall paper, deckchairs, tablecloths and the like, obtainable at the canteen, togetherwith pictures from home, some of the rooms looked very cosy indeed. Each one contained a stove, which at first we were able to keep wellsupplied, as it was possible to buy coal in addition to the ration, though latterly there was a considerable shortage. Mattresses wereeither spring or made of old straw, and sometimes contained littlecreepy-crawlies. My record evening catch numbered twenty-five, andthis little collection afforded some exciting races. By the way, Imight add that if one puts a match to them they go off "pop. " TheGermans rendered slight assistance, but the Keating's contained in ourparcels soon got them under way. The sanitary conditions were notgood, but I must admit to having seen a little disinfectant. Part ofthe time we were allowed a common room of our own, but latterly had toshare one with the Russians. Washing was sent to the town weekly. Amedical orderly was on the premises during the day, and a doctor cametwo or three times a week. Before leaving we were inoculated againstsmallpox, typhoid and cholera. This was a most obnoxious proceedingwhich took place every six or seven days, until the doctor had jabbedus all six times in the chest with his confounded needle. French andRussian orderlies were provided, each detailed to look after one ortwo rooms. 

RECREATION. --At first it was possible to play football, but that wassoon stopped. Rackets, boxing and a sort of cricket were played in theriding-school; once or twice a week we organised a concert or a dance, theatrical costumes being hired from the town on parole. The Russianshad a really first-class mandoline and balalaika band, with which theyplayed many of their waltzes and curiously attractive folk-songs. During these concerts a certain Englishman solemnly sang some newRussian songs, learnt by heart, of which he did not understand a word. A young Russian used to make up into a delightful girl, who, with apartner, danced a cake-walk, accompanied by the blare of their newbrass band. Mandolines were soon in vogue and most rooms could boastof several. As we were mostly beginners the resulting noise is bestleft to the imagination. Whist drives, bridge tournaments, etc. , helped to pass the time, and a good many of us improved the shininghour by learning French, Russian or German in exchange for lessons inour own language. 

The winter brought with it many snow fights, and a successful slidewhich I started, though popular, resulted in many bumps and bruises. The bottom of the slide led into some barbed wire--which was decidedlydangerous. One fatal day I finished the course with three Russians anda fat Australian on the top of me, unintentionally making afirst-class broom; first I passed over a sharp stone, and then came toa stop on the barbed wire fence. (Some of the marks caused by thisepisode remain with me to this day. ) We had one or two nice walksweekly, on parole, escorted by a German officer. One day, during along walk through some pine woods, we had reached the top of a hillwhen we came upon a large slab of rock, about four feet thick, restingon two smaller ones, with a broad crack right through it near thecentre. The German officer told us a legend about this, which affirmsthat at this spot somewhere about the eighth century EmperorCharlemagne met some heathen chieftain, who having already heard ofhis feats of strength promised to become a Christian should he be ableto split this rock. The emperor took up a sledge hammer and with onetremendous blow broke the rock in two. (He must have been _some_ man!)

TREATMENT. --When I first arrived the commandant, who was a major, wasquite popular, granting all reasonable requests and not bothering usthe whole time, consequently we did our best to avoid trouble; but wewere in Hunland, therefore this state of affairs could not last long. The commandant was soon replaced by a colonel with a white beard and abenevolent aspect, though in reality he was inclined to be vicious andmost unreasonable. He was soon followed by two junior officers, Lieutenants Briggs and Rosenthal. The former was an officer of theReserve, one of the nicest Germans I have ever met, and I can almostsafely say a gentleman. He did all that he could to avoid friction andmake things run smoothly. Rosenthal was a Regular officer and atypical Hun, who was sent round the various camps to make thingsgenerally uncomfortable for the inmates, in which capacity he was agreat success. He made promises but very rarely fulfilled any, smilingto your face and at the same time arranging to have you punished. Hecrept along the passages in thick carpet shoes after lights out, spying on our movements, and was twice discovered listening at akeyhole to the conversation. After having been there a month I spent afortnight in solitary confinement for my Cambrai escape, at which Icannot complain, and came out on Christmas Day. Later on, while atthis camp, I carried out two sentences, each of three days, forslight offences. 

PARCELS AND MONEY. --We received parcels of food and clothing from sixto eight weeks after first writing for them. For the most part thesecame regularly, only a few being lost. This was a good thing for us, the camp authorities often providing for a meal only some raw fish andgarlic or uneatable gherkins and dry black bread! Trunks, suit cases, and other heavy articles came by the American Express and were longeron their way. Parcels of food were opened, and the tins taken intactto one's individual locker, where it could be obtained most morningsat a given hour. As required the tins were then opened by the Huns andthe contents placed in jars or dishes, which one must provide beforeit can be taken away. Sometimes whole rooms decided to mess together, sharing all their parcels, but more often two or three friendsarranged their own little mess. 

Letters at first came quickly, but were often delayed by the Germancensors at this camp, who, I believe, dealt with almost all Britishcommunications to prisoners in Germany. Money is obtained by signing acheque, which is cashed in a week or two by the American Express. Evenafter America's entry into the war money could still be obtainedthrough this company (which is, I believe, German owned). German dailypapers are procurable at most camps, and usually contain a more orless intact British official communique, which is translated by someGerman scholar and posted up. A map of the front is usually kept bythe prisoners and corrected from time to time. Christmas wascelebrated by every one and the canteen _Weisswein_ soon bought up. The Germans put an illuminated Christmas tree in the dining-hall, butunfortunately counteracted their display of good feeling by decoratingthe large portraits of the Kaiser and Hindenburg, who stared down atus from the walls and quite spoilt our already nasty food. On NewYear's Night we collected on the stairs, and joining hands with a fewFrench and Russians, sang "Auld Lang Syne, " and scampered back to bedbefore the wily Huns appeared on the scene. 

One day when drawing our parcels we received some little cardboardpackets of compressed dates as usual, but this time a small whitestrip of paper was pasted on the outside of each bearing the words, "Produce of Mesopotamia under British occupation. " This must have beenpleasant reading for the Huns. At last, one morning we were informedthat in three days' time we were to proceed to an "All British" campat Clausthal. Before our departure our Allies gave two farewellconcerts in our honour, which were a great success, for when we leftthey knew that they were losing most of the "life" of the camp. 

Living on our floor with a room to himself was a French captain ofextremely doubtful character; he was a heavily built, bearded man ofmiddle age whom nobody liked. I was told that in civil life he was aprofessional agitator! Now he confined his energies to making troublebetween the different nationalities. He was always hanging about wherehe wasn't wanted, poking his nose into other people's business, andwhat was even more suspicious, he appeared to be on the best of termswith the Germans. He wore a long row of medals, which were inclined tochange from day to day. Some senior French officers inquired if he hadthe right to wear them, but he refused to recognise their authority. Some Britishers had also been caught in a mysterious way just beforeattempting to escape. The last night before our departure we thoughtwe would at least show him that he was not popular. Over a dozen of usburst into his room, armed to the teeth, and holding him on to his bedcovered him from head to foot with treacle, jam, coffee grounds, ashesand water, at the same time doing him no bodily injury. I expect hethought his plight more serious than it really was, for the wholeplace echoed with his shouts for help. Unfortunately for him theFrench on the floor above, being greatly pleased at the proceedings, only turned over and went to sleep again. When, after a few seconds, we bolted to our rooms he rushed down to the orderly's quarters, exclaiming, "I am dying--I am covered with blood!" This soundedterrible, but when a match was struck revealing nothing but treacleand jam they could scarcely conceal their merriment. Later on the Hunsarrived and succeeded in obtaining most of our names, but even theythought the affair quite a good joke. The next morning most of theFrench collected quietly near the gate to give us a "send off, " butthe commandant, after screaming and being very rude to every one hadthem locked in their rooms. He turned his back on us when we left, only Lieutenant Briggs having the decency to salute. 

 CHAPTER VI

 CLAUSTHAL

It was just like house moving. The heavy luggage was sent in advance, but we preferred to carry our dearest belongings. Many of us must haveresembled fully-equipped pedlars or super-caddis-worms carrying theirhouses on their backs, but in our case these were not composed ofsticks or dead leaves, but provisions, gramophones, mandolines, pots, kettles, etc. , tied together with string, the rattle of which appearedto amuse some of the civil population. Some time after leavingOsnabrück the train stopped at an out-of-the-way station nearHildesheim, close to a group of men working on the line. At once asolitary khaki-clad figure detached itself from the rest and cametowards us at the run. It turned out to be a British Tommy bubblingover with pleasure at seeing some of his own race to speak to at last, after having Russians and Huns for his companions for many months. Wegave him a summary of the latest news and all kinds of tinned foods. The other Russian prisoners soon followed him, looking half starved, and clamoured for bread, which we had just time to give them when abad tempered Hun drove them back to their work. 

Towards evening we passed through Hameln? (better known to us as"Hamelin"), but saw no signs of the Pied Piper. Now there was a manwho was not brought into the world for nothing, but used his genius tothe destruction of small Huns! The higher the train climbed into theHartz Mountains the deeper became the snow. From the dimly-lightedcarriages we could sometimes see the dark outline of high wooded hillsbetween the snow flurries. A little before midnight we stopped with ajerk and were told to "_Aus_. " As I followed the others into arestaurant winter garden affair, five minutes after our arrival, I wasdelighted to hear several small gramophones already playing"Bric-a-brac" and other selections from musical comedies, eachinsisting that its was the only tune worth listening to. Owing to theconditions escape was out of the question; the Germans did nottherefore worry much--in fact, coming up in the train a rather niceN. C. O. At last yielded to my entreaties and sang a verse of the Hymnof Hate, accompanying himself on my mandoline. 

After standing two hours in a queue at the bar I managed to procuresome quite good wine which made us feel almost at home. For the restof that night it was almost possible to imagine oneself free, butsnowed up. The next morning, on hearing that the camp was about twomiles away, we inquired if some of the larger suit cases might be leftbehind as the walking was so heavy, to be brought up later, at anextra charge, by the station sleigh, which came up to the camp everyday. But we might have known that it would only be a waste of breathasking the Huns to help us in any way. (Later, when some very seniorBritish officers arrived, bound for this camp, they receivedidentically the same treatment. ) After an uphill struggle we reachedthe camp, and were kept standing quite unnecessarily forthree-quarters of an hour in a snowstorm before being admitted to thedining-hall. On entering I was lucky enough to run straight into anAustralian flight commander, who had often taken me up in my observingdays at my first squadron, then at a village behind Ypres. 

The camp is well situated, being almost surrounded by pine forests, which cover most of the Hartz Mountains. If the day is at all clear ahigh and rather rounded hill is visible to the eastward, conspicuousfor its bleakness, standing well above the dark intervening fir-cladhills. This is the Brocken, the highest mountain in Northern Germany, on the summit of which Goethe's Faust was evolved. It is difficult torealise that it is, roughly, 5, 000 feet above sea level, or the camp2, 000. The ascent in this part from the foot hills being gradual, thesurrounding country is not so imposing as one would expect. Outsidethe camp is a small picturesque lake, which was frozen over most ofthe time. On a clear evening it was fascinating to watch the superbsoaring of the buzzards. It seemed as if their telescopic eyes couldmake out the wings on some of our tunics, for with a jeering cry theywould commence gliding in a vast sweeping circle with scarcely amovement of their wings, every feather under perfect control, until atlength they disappeared into the endless blue. We still have a lot tolearn, but talk of the "homing instinct, " if only a few aeroplanes hadbeen handy I know which would have made the quickest non-stop flightto "Blighty. "

The next day a number of Belgian officers left to take up their abodein the quarters vacated by us in Osnabrück, many of them resplendentin their tasselled caps, and a few wearing clanking swords which theyhad been allowed to retain in recognition of the gallant way they haddefended some of the Liège and Antwerp forts. With them went twoBelgian officers, who, curiously enough, could not speak their lingo. This was not surprising, however, as their real names were CaptainNicholl, R. F. C. , and Lieutenant Reid, R. N. It appeared they intendedto jump the train before reaching their destination and have a try forthe Dutch border. German trains often go slowly and stop, but as luckwould have it this one, as we afterwards heard, refused to do anythingof the sort. Whether Captain Nicholl succeeded in getting off I do notknow, but Lieutenant Reid, seeing discovery imminent, jumped throughthe carriage window and broke his ankles. They were both taken toOsnabrück and Nicholl was sent back under arrest. After three weeksLieutenant Reid returned, lame, but quite cheery. As he was underarrest, however, we could not learn much of their treatment, though itwas common knowledge that he had left hospital _very_ soon, and wasmade to walk up from the station as best he could. His sentence waslengthened by some days on the charge of answering his wrong name at aroll call on arrival at Osnabrück, but as he was quite unable to standthis was obviously a fabrication. 

When we had been there about ten days a lot more British officersarrived from Friedburg, where they had received quite good treatment. Many of the prisoners at this camp had been taken at Mons, La Cateauand Ypres, and were consequently a little out of date. They couldhardly realise what a "Somme barrage" was like, and were thereforeknown as the "Bow and Arrow" men! On the journey to Clausthal two ofthem managed to jump from the train and got clear away. About thistime five Italian officers were warned to leave the next day. Thepreceding night, after supper, Colonel Bond (K. O. Y. L. I. ), after ashort speech, proposed the toast "_Viva Italia_, " which we drank incanteen _Weisswein_, or imitation port, to which a senior Italianofficer enthusiastically replied with a "_Viva Inghilterra_. " Aftertheir departure the camp contained British only, the remaining numberof officers being a little over three hundred. 

ACCOMMODATION. --The principal building, in which about half of uslived, was a _Kurhaus_, or small hydro, in peace time, with a largedining-hall at one end. The smallest bedrooms were occupied by one ortwo senior officers, while the remainder held about half a dozen. Ashower-bath was on the premises. The rest of us were quartered inthree temporary wooden barracks, where most of the rooms were ratherover-crowded, holding from six to eight fellows. 

RECREATION. --At a portion of the grounds was a fairly steep inclineand on this we made a short toboggan run, banking the snow up steeplyat the turn to avoid going through the barbed wire. In many instancesit must have been amusing to watch a small sleigh being steered by anovice, with fat individuals sitting on the top of him, trying toavoid the young trees, usually without any success. Unfortunately forme I had a nasty knack of always being in the worst crashes. It isimpossible to find a more effective way of destroying boots thancontinually steering with one's feet. Other people displayed theirextensive knowledge of winter sports by ski-ing, or rather lying ontheir backs, unintentionally waving their skis in the air. This soonhad to be abandoned, however, as the weather soon became uncertain, often changing from a hard frost to a violent thaw every two or threedays. 

A naval officer in my barrack received a miniature billiard-table, which became immensely popular. Cards, roulette, ping-pong and chessgreatly assisted in passing the time. We also had quite a good camplibrary, the books mostly having been received from home. I oftenheard it remarked that life there was one long queue, and it was notfar wrong. Often one passed the morning waiting one's turn for the"tin room, " or newly arrived parcels, while soon after lunch it wascustomary to see the more patient individuals already lining up chairsand settling down to their books, to wait for hot water which was soldat tea time. All this may sound most enjoyable, but I will nowendeavour to explain a little of the wonderful system then in vogue atthis camp, the only object of which seemed to be to remind you in anobjectionable manner that you were a prisoner on every possibleoccasion. 

TREATMENT. --When we first arrived the commandant was not so bad, butafter several visits from corps headquarters at Hanover, he resignedhis post, it is said, on the grounds that he could not treat Britishofficers like common criminals, as he was supposed to. I think this ishighly probable, though I cannot vouch for the truth of the assertion, it being only hearsay. He was replaced by a fat and rather harmlessdug-out captain, who proved to be only a pompous figurehead. The campwas entirely run by the second in command, Lieutenant Wolfe. InEngland persons of this type are so rarely met with that our languagedoes not contain the necessary words to describe them adequately. InGermany they are comparatively common, therefore, collectively theymay be put down as belonging to the "super-swine class"! Wolfe wasarrogance personified. He possessed a closely-cropped bullet head, anda round, somewhat bloated pale face, near the centre of which gleamedtwo small, cold, calculating blue eyes; the whole effect so stronglyresembled a white pig that among ourselves he was usually known as"pig face. " He belonged to a reserve Hanoverian regiment, and was aschoolmaster by profession. It is small wonder that children undersuch authority never learn to know the true meaning of the word"kultur. " Somehow he knew about the treacling affair at our last camp, for after getting our names from Osnabrück, he strained every nerve toget us court-martialled and punished. Two or three times a week wecriminals had to assemble outside his room at an appointed hour. Aftera long wait "My Lord" strolled in, usually an hour late, walking veryslowly, chewing a cigar. At first he only produced a small packet ofpapers, on most of which our individual statements were written, andasked absurd questions through an interpreter. But as time went on thecase assumed larger proportions, and the bundle of nonsense increasedto an enormous size. At almost every visit we had to sign some newdocument certifying that we understood the latest communication onthe subject from headquarters. After much hard work "pig face"achieved his object, and we were warned to attend a court-martial atHanover. However, this is worthy of a separate chapter. 

One day an impossible staff captain arrived from Hanover to inspectthe camp. He was a large, arrogant bully, who brought with him twodetectives for the purpose of searching our rooms and kit forforbidden articles. We will not waste time discussing his manners; hehad none. The detectives seemed quite decent, and therefore cannothave been properly dehumanised by the powers that be. In German campsit is forbidden to sit or lie on one's bed during the day, unless onehas reported sick at roll call. This captain suddenly entered a roomin our barrack and surprised a Scotsman lying on his bed reading abook. Seeing that the culprit had his clothes on, he screamed out sucha stream of unintelligible curses and threats, that had a similarnoise taken place at the Zoo, I am sure the keepers would have rushedout to stop the monkey fight. The Scotsman waited until this torrenthad somewhat abated, then slowly getting to his feet, he drawled outin a bewildered way, "And how's your faither!" It is doubtful whetherthe startled captain understood this kind inquiry or not, but herushed out of the room and, grabbing a sentry's bayonet, returned andstuck it in the boards at his feet. Ours was the next room hefavoured. Without the semblance of a knock he burst in, and as nothingof importance had been found during the search, swaggered up and downin a most offensive manner with his nose in the air. In a few secondshe came to a stop beside me and shouted that he wished me to stand toattention, half dressed as I was (having just been searched). This wasjust about the limit, so pretending not to understand what he meant Iturned round and busied myself with my clothing, at the same timehumming softly to myself the air of "Pack up your troubles, " torelieve my feelings and stifle a desire to give him one under the jaw. On a word of command two scared sentries appeared, having been orderedto take me to the guardroom immediately. The usually harmlesscommandant was so frightened that he rolled his eyes and screamedafter me, when exhaustion put an end to the captain's song. It waspitiable to see two such men possessing not an atom of self-controlbetween them, but it was not so amusing as one might think. Itcertainly looked as if I should be murdered without delay. I was putinto a room adjoining that occupied by the main guard, where Iremained for three hours. During this period I got into conversationwith some of the soldiers and was surprised at the bitter way theyspoke of Lieutenant Wolfe, so much so that if he returned to the frontI should be inclined to think that the quarter where his greatestdanger lay was not in front but behind. 

When I had the room to myself I spent the time exploring for usefularticles. My oft-interrupted search resulted in the discovery of aheap of things in the far corner. At length an officer arrived andinformed me that I should only receive three days' "_stuben_"--arrest(solitary confinement). After which I was released. On re-entering thecamp I did my best to look innocent, though, as luck would have it, Iwas really the richer by a couple of maps, a compass and some candles!One of the orderlies in the camp was a cobbler, but though the Hunsfrequently assured us they would provide him with the necessary tools, it took two months for their promise to materialise. During thisperiod my already patched boots threatened to give out altogether. Iwrote a note to the commandant, explaining that I was daily expectingboots from England, but as these appeared to have been delayed, askedthat I might be allowed to order some canvas shoes at the canteen inthe meantime. The next day the interpreter handed me the answer:"Order leather from England, and have the boots resoled. " I could nothelp smiling, and casually remarked that it was worse than useless. Whereupon he snapped, "What, you say that the commandant's note isuseless? All right, I will you report. "

In due course the usual notice was posted up to the effect "That theEnglish Ober-Lieutenant Gerald Knight would for gross insolence thenext three days in arrest spend. " Usually, roll call took placeoutside the main building, and as it generally meant standing in wateror melting snow, was not particularly pleasant. Wolfe very oftenmanaged to take these parades, and did not miss this excellentopportunity for showing his authority. After arriving late he wouldstroll up and down the line, hands in pockets, looking as dignified aspossible, always wasting time. "_Appel_, " when properly conducted, never lasted more than ten minutes or a quarter of an hour. On oneoccasion, Wolfe, who was well protected against the cold, kept usstanding in a blizzard for an hour and a half, during which time hecounted us five or six times, obviously for his own amusement. It wasbad enough to have to stand there oneself, but it was much moreannoying to watch our senior officers, majors, colonels, and amajor-general, awaiting the pleasure of a conceited German lieutenant. Almost every day some new order was issued, for the most partaffecting little things, for example--stating that in future no foodwould be allowed in the rooms. A few days later it was not allowed inthe cupboards standing in the passages. Soon it was only allowed inthe dining-hall, where the accommodation was quite inadequate. One daytwo fellows were quietly walking down a path near the wire, when asentry raised his rifle and threatened to shoot them if they did notat once go further from the wire! They refused to move, and told thesentry that they had a perfect right there. Whereupon the man at lastlowered his rifle. On a complaint being made, Lieutenant Wolfe, knowing that few people were about, ingeniously squashed the case byrefusing to take the matter up unless six witnesses were produced. There was a second lieutenant, junior to Wolfe (commonly known as theWorm!), who arrived after receiving promotion from the ranks. He wasrather a miserable sort of person, inclined to follow Wolfe's examplein most things. He was for ever on the prowl and it never occurred tohim to knock before entering a room. Once he came into our room and, assisted by two guards, removed the mirror, shaving tackle, hairbrushes, etc. , from the window, placing them on the wash-hand stand inthe darkest corner of the room. After this performance he drew himselfup sedately and exclaimed, "That is the way we do things in Germany!"These little incidents are most annoying at any time, but especiallyso when one is wearing boots possessing good kicking qualities. 

It was not until May that the snow finally disappeared and we weretreated to a spell of warm weather, during which every one did theirbest to get sunburnt, and set to work on the new tennis court we hadpermission to make. 

Lizards and frogs appeared from nowhere and endeavoured to inform usthat spring was approaching. It is curious the way camp life againmakes one childish and easily amused. For instance, it was quite acommon occurrence to see a small crowd of fellows looking excitedly atsomething. On closer investigation it in most cases turned out to be atoad or a worm. As it became dry underfoot we were able to go out forwalks on parole with a German officer. The stout commandant usuallytook us, and not only did he make himself quite agreeable, but alsochose some very pretty paths among the various pine woods. Oneafternoon two fellows succeeded in cutting the outside wire in broaddaylight and getting into the woods unobserved. Seeing his opportunitya tall Canadian, named Colquhoun, hastily gathered up his valuablesand dived through the inviting gap in the wire (which had beencleverly cut behind some young fir trees and up beside a post). He wasjust disappearing into the woods at record speed (the sentry's backbeing still turned) when he was seen by some children playing on ahillock a little way off. They at once made a noise, and several ofthem rushed down to tell the sentry. That man, however, was much toogrand to listen to "kids" talking nonsense, so drove them off withmany threats and violent gestures. When the escape was discovered, green-uniformed soldiers of Jaeger regiments and mounted forestersscoured the woods for nearly two days without any success. Shortlyafter a notice was posted up stating that when the escaped officerswere recaptured, they would in all probability be tried bycourt-martial for breaking their parole in looking for hiding placeswhen out for walks; this, needless to say, was all nonsense, theofficers in question being miles away by that time. 

This notice could not be regarded in any other light than that of aninsult to British officers in general, causing much resentment. Allfuture walks were voluntarily given up, and at evening "_appel_" allparole cards, without exception, were returned to the Huns by mutualconsent, to avoid any insinuations of this sort in the future. Afterbeing out for about a fortnight the outlaws were all recaptured andtaken to Ströhen, where I afterwards met them. The first two put up avery good show, being recaptured in an exhausted condition by a roadguard, twenty odd kilometres from the frontier, much to their disgust. My friend, the Canadian, fought a good fight against an unkind fate. While washing in a stream one night he was taken by a man with arevolver looking for an escaped Russian prisoner. He was then put intoprison at a men's camp, where he succeeded in obtaining somewire-cutters from other Britishers. Forcing his way through theskylight into a dark and rainy night, he dropped to earth, cut thewire and was again free. The drop previous to cutting the wire had, however, damaged his compass, which stuck and led him south instead ofwest. Three days later he was taken near a bridge over a river by menand trained dogs, and transferred to a town prison. There I believe hereceived quite decent food, for which he was very thankful. During thelate afternoon some children came to annoy him by shouting ruderemarks from the passage. Even these little wretches were of someuse, for at their departure they touched something on the outside ofhis door which jingled, and turned out to be a bunch of keys, which hewas able to get possession of by pulling them through the slidingpanel used by the guard for spying on the prisoner. When it was darkthe adventurer produced the keys and by dint of much labour succeededin opening his own cell and walking out. 

At the back of one of the nearer buildings he discovered a bicycle, which he appropriated without a second thought. Having discovered hiswhereabouts he struck north to get into his original line, and wasunfortunately discovered by some N. C. O. 's the next day in almost astarving condition repairing his bicycle in a shed. After such anattempt as this it is indeed hard to return to serve one's sentence ata camp prison or fortress, knowing full well that, although havingdone one's utmost, even the slightest official recognition is out ofthe question. After the second escape the Hun in charge of the men'scamp 'phoned to Clausthal, stating that the officer had beenrecaptured. Wolfe hearing the joyous news started out to bring backthe truant as a lesson to others. "But when he got there the cupboardwas bare, " so he returned to the "Hartz-Gebirge" empty-handed anddisconsolate. The only really decent German at the camp appeared to bean "_aspirant_, " or first class warrant officer, who treated us quitefairly when opportunity offered; however, his superiors saw to it thatthis was not often. 

PARCELS. --These arrived fairly well, but were periodically hoarded upby the Huns for a week or ten days, where we could not get themwithout any previous warning. When drawing food all the tins had to beleft behind until wanted for immediate consumption. It was thereforevery difficult to lay in a supply against such emergencies. Duringthese periods most messes determined, if possible, to have a meal ofsorts at tea-time. Gradually, as the provisions got lower and lower, the menu read somewhat as follows: Tea (no milk or sugar); verylimited black bread, thinly spread with soup essence, or _café aulait_ (when the dripping, lard or potted meat had finally vanished). The meal itself was rather nauseating, but afterwards it was mostgratifying to be able to say that you had had tea! When this playfullittle "strafe" was removed by an order from Hanover the accumulatedparcels nearly caused the death of the Germans working in thedistributing room. Letters were very slow in arriving. Once a general, while inspecting the camp, entered the parcel room, where he saw anEnglish captain assisting with the sorting of the parcels. On findingthat he spoke German well the general advised him to devote his sparetime to the further study of that language, which he said would bevery useful to him later. The captain was notorious for saying exactlywhat he thought, and be hanged to the consequences. His reply musthave been more than the German bargained for: "Sir, I do not intend towaste my time learning a dead language!" It is probable that thegeneral had had previous dealings with the British, and thereforepossessed a sense of humour so rare to the Teuton, for he passed onwithout awarding the expected punishment. 

 CHAPTER VII

 COURT-MARTIALLED! AND PROUD OF IT, TOO!

It is not usual to boast of the fact that one has beencourt-martialled, but I would not have missed this experience foranything. Early in the morning of May 15th, 1917, we twelvegaol-birds, after being carefully searched, left for the stationescorted by eight guards. During the march I began softly humming atune, but was at once silenced by an angry sentry, who told me that nonoise of any sort was allowed. Turning to the N. C. O. I remarked thatalthough he appeared to be in charge of the party he had not objectedto my behaviour, and added that this seemed almost as if the privatewas exceeding his duty. This appealed to the dignity of his position, and although he evidently did not like me, he told the sentry off. Onreaching the station we had an unpleasant surprise, for there, awaiting us on the platform, was our old friend, Wolfe. 

In the early afternoon we got out of the train at a small station andwere told that we should have to wait some hours for the connection. The senior member of our party inquired whether it was possible to getanything to eat, as it was already very late for the midday meal. Wolfe said he would try and led us into the restaurant, where a waiterinquired if we would have white or green beans. These dishes soundedso tempting that we ordered mixed. When the result was served (beansstewed with gravy and a little potato), it certainly greatly exceededour expectations, being really appetising. When this was finished aresourceful member of the party produced some cards, and poker becamethe order of the day. The game was still in progress when one of theothers called our attention to the Red Cross collecting box on thetable. In trying to decipher the appeal for subscriptions for thewounded, he had made a great discovery. Actually beside the red crossin a small circle made by a rubber stamp were the words, "_Gott strafeEngland_!"

Naturally, this display of childishness amused us greatly, creating ageneral laugh. This frivolity in the face of a court-martial was morethan Wolfe could stand, so after one withering glance in our directionhe turned his back on us and stalked majestically from the room. Luckily I had in my possession a good supply of tin canteen money(which was valueless outside the camp); this was at once transferredto the box as quickly as possible. It isn't often that an Englishmanhas the pleasure of subscribing to his own special hate box! I amsimply longing to know if the money was eventually returned to thecamp for its equivalent value. Should this book in the near future beread in Germany, as I expect it will, would some kind Hun take thetrouble to satisfy my curiosity? "Royal Air Force, England, " willalways find me. 

About six o'clock that evening we reached Hanover and were marched offthrough some of the main streets to an unknown destination. The townis all right; it is the people that spoil it. Proceeding down somebroad streets we passed some very fine buildings, statues andfountains. Once a well-dressed woman unintentionally crossed our path, with the result that a sentry roughly threw her aside without a wordof apology. Passing through a small park we halted before a low, dirty-looking stone building, with every window strongly barred. 

Presently Lieutenant Wolfe emerged with a smile of welcome and bade usenter. In a small courtyard a German N. C. O. , with a loud raspingvoice, ordered the prison guard to take us to our quarters. Aftermuch jangling of keys we were separated, to our amazement, and eachone of the party locked in a cell by himself. Near the ceiling was onesmall window about two feet square. On examination this exit proved tobe guarded with fine wire netting and thick iron bars firmly embeddedin cement. As usual, there was a special spy-hole in the door whichhad to be covered on the inside. Attached to each end of the bed weretwo strong shackles, evidently intended to fasten the occupant down ifnecessary. We afterwards learnt that this was the garrison prison, itbeing considerably worse than the civil one. It does not seemsurprising that they are able to maintain their iron discipline, ifthey resort to these methods. I think the reader will agree that thisis hardly a fit place to lodge officers who, as yet, were onlyawaiting their trial. Several times I faintly heard the whirring ofaeroplanes outside, but only managed to see one by pulling myself upto the window. We relieved the monotony a little by whistling to eachother in the Morse code what we thought of the Huns for putting usthere. The thickness of the walls, however, soon put a stop to this. During the night I was awakened by several thuds, followed by a crash, which came from somewhere overhead. This puzzled me at the time, butthe next day I found the noise had been caused by one of our partyrat-hunting with the aid of a boot which had landed on a tin basininstead of the rat. 

The next morning the man with a voice like a nutmeg grater released usfrom our cells, and after a few preliminaries we were marched offacross the square to a large building, which we entered about teno'clock. Then ensued a long but interesting wait, during which wewatched all sorts and conditions of Huns passing up and down the mainstaircase. Amongst them we saw several colonels, a general and a verysmart monocled major, whose helmet was rather the shape of afireman's, showing that he was in some crack cavalry regiment--dragoons, I think. They mostly wore pale blue-grey overcoats, and their buttons, sword-hilts and golden eagles on their helmets glittered exquisitely. The general appearance was smart enough, but everything seemed atrifle overdone, giving one the impression that they had just steppedout of a bandbox. Had a British officer been standing beside theseGermans, wearing his sword, the contrast would have been a strangeone, for while looking just as smart the uniform would have had theappearance of being infinitely more serviceable. There passed quite anumber of Hun privates with downcast eyes, having just received theirlong sentences. An interpreter having nothing to do, tried hard toprove to us that the U-boats would very soon bring England to herknees, but gave up the attempt on receiving an invitation to the campto watch the daily arrival of the over-laden parcel cart. 

Eventually we were ushered into the court, bareheaded, trying veryhard to look meek. The opening questions and formalities took up a lotof time, and it really was a terrible strain trying not to laugh whenthe interpreter solemnly explained to a German captain that one of ourparty belonged to the _Middlesex_ Regiment. Before getting to businessour individual conduct sheets were read out, mine being about as blackas it could be. At our request two French majors from Osnabrück werepresent. Both spoke well on our behalf, explaining that this couldonly be a quarrel between the French and British in any case, but thatthey were delighted at what had occurred, and most certainly did notwish to prosecute. Everything went in our favour, and, when thetreacling was described, even the presiding Hun general laughed. Thepublic prosecutor, as usual, asked for the maximum punishment, 600marks fine or 100 days fortress. Whereupon the court rose and left theroom, looking justice itself. On their return it was announced thatthe junior three of our party, who had not actually entered theFrenchman's room, were let off with a caution, and that all the restwere each fined five hundred marks, or fifty days in a fortress. Thisshowed how they wanted our money; of course the whole thing had beenarranged beforehand. On inquiring what the money would go to supportwe were told that it would probably be the war loan. A few minuteslater, after leaving in a rebellious mood, we were lucky enough tomeet the two Frenchmen, from whom we learnt that they too had spentthe night in cells in the same prison. Later on I was given tounderstand that before a subsequent court-martial two British officersspent the night on a sort of mattress in a corner of the guardroom. 

The return journey was accomplished without incident, except for anattempt on our part to speak to a captured guardsman, who was loadingtrucks, which was promptly squashed by Wolfe snapping out "_Das gehtnicht_. " Nevertheless, a tin or two of food found its way out of thewindow. 

The weather at Clausthal, after a brief interval of snowstorms, becamebeautifully warm, and the prospect of spending the summer in the HartzMountains was almost alluring. About this time General Friedrichs (incharge of prisoners of war) made a speech in the Reichstag, in thecourse of which he stated that the English treated their prisonersbetter than any other nation (or so the translation read), and went onto say that in return English prisoners must receive good treatment, so that at the conclusion of hostilities they would take back goodremembrances of Germany to their own country. In my case thingscertainly did change (I expect as a result of the speech)--for theworse. A week later thirty-five officers, including myself, were sentto Ströhen, a camp which will certainly be remembered long after peaceis declared, but I doubt if the memory will be a pleasant one. 

 CHAPTER VIII

 STRÖHEN

Previous to our departure Wolfe personally searched our belongings. Although a long journey lay in front of us, he only allowed eachindividual to carry two small tins of food. In reply to our protestshe said that, as things were always well arranged in Germany, ourluggage would therefore arrive at the same time as ourselves. Thiswas, of course, absolutely untrue, but we had to submit. During thegreat search Wolfe, seeing that I was wearing a belt made of plaitedstring (Yes, Mr. Wolfe, the belt in question was made of blind cordcut from the _kurhaus_ windows!), and noting that it was somethingunusual, ordered me to leave it behind. Taking it off, I politelyhanded it to him, and expressed my hope that he would keep it as asouvenir! With a charming smile he replied, "Three days _stuben_arrest, " which I acknowledged with a bow. 

Outside the camp, on our way to the station we looked back and saw theroll call was in progress. Thereupon we gave three cheers for themany friends we were leaving behind us, in spite of the fact thatWolfe and the commandant were on parade. We travelled second class andat one station were even allowed to buy beer; our guards were quitereasonable, and things in general went off pleasantly. We stayed sometime at an out-of-the-way station east of Osnabrück, where quite acrowd of children collected. They scrambled excitedly for the sweetsand cigarettes which we threw them. Arriving at a little stationcalled Ströhen, which seemed to be on a large moor, we got out andstarted for the camp, the German officer bringing up the rear in avictoria. After ten minutes' walking down a lonely road we made out agroup of low wooden huts surrounded by high arc lamps and wire, on adesolate moorland. Surely this could not be our destination, the goodcamp we had been led to expect. 

But after inquiring our guards told us it was, although they werenearly as much surprised at its appearance as we were. At all eventswe were determined to hide our feelings and look cheery. Quickeningour pace we approached the camp singing the almost forgotten song, "Tipperary, " were marched through the gates, and halted in front of asmall group of German officers, in the centre of the camp. We at oncedistinguished the commandant, a major, with a first class iron crosshanging from his collar. He was rather short and stout with a squareface; his grey whiskers terminated in a small double-pointed beard;this completed his "Hunnish" appearance! With his hands behind hisback he welcomed us with a sullen stare, all the while puffingstolidly at his cigar. Had the Huns rehearsed this scene for a weekthey could not have given us a more heathen reception. No one evenmade a show at politeness by a nod or a salute. A stout and uglysergeant-major (named Muller), wearing a gaudy blue and red uniformand sword, bawled at us to dress by the right, as if he wereaddressing a squad of recruits. He very nearly exploded when weignored his insolent words of command. A rather common littleinterpreter commenced calling the roll, beginning with a captain, butonly shouting his surname, to which there was no response. When hisvoice gradually rose to a shriek the Englishman stepped out and said, "I suppose you mean Captain so-and-so. " The interpreter explainedmatters to the commandant, who must have realised that they were inthe wrong, for in future we were addressed by our proper rank. (Victory No. 1. ) We were each given a disc, on which was stamped ourcamp number (mine is now residing at home), and shown into our rooms. Late that night about two hundred fellows arrived from Crefeld, andMuller, finding he could not intimidate them, made such a noise thathe was "choked off" by the commandant. We learnt that this place hadbeen built as a Russian reprisal camp, but that lately Roumanianofficers had been confined there. We were the first British thesepeople had ever had to deal with. Hence their very bad manners!

Now in a camp of this sort it is very necessary to stand up for one'srights when treated unfairly, otherwise the Germans soon forget thatyou have any rights; at the same time, if the treatment is fair, onedoes one's best to avoid friction. The best instance of a result ofthe former treatment occurred the next afternoon. When some of theCrefeld party, who had been allowed to bring provisions with them, found that it was not possible to obtain hot water for making tea, some inventive person at once started a little fire of sticks outsidemy room. Almost immediately a N. C. O. Leading half a dozen armed menappeared on the scene and told the offender in a dreadful voice to putthe fire out at once. Instead of complying the culprit dodged into abarrack and out of a window on the opposite side and disappeared. When the Huns were able to comprehend the audacity of this move theyhad to put the fire out themselves. Half an hour later a sentry, seeing three fires burning in the same place, strolled over andquietly informed those concerned that fires were not allowed, and thatunless they were put out he would have to make a report to thecommandant. The result was that they were at once extinguished withthe aid of sand. Our baggage did not arrive for nearly a week; then, instead of being given out, it was locked up for another five daysbefore we received it all. During this time we had to live on theGerman food as best we could. 

ACCOMMODATION. --Our quarters consisted of three long and two smallerbadly made huts, divided into rooms containing, mostly, two or sixofficers. The mattresses were mostly dirty and hard, being stuffedwith paper and cardboard, which formed sharp edges and lumps. Thefirst week about ten of us found "creepy crawlies, " and shortly beforeour departure I succeeded in attracting some while in the camphospital! The Huns provided us with the German equivalent for"Keating's" after much agitation, after making us pay for it. Thedoctor said that the newly captured prisoners must have brought thecreatures into the camp. That may have been true in a few cases, buteven so they are to blame for not making adequate arrangements toprevent it. We each received a tin basin, but the washing was all doneat three pumps outside. All the drinking water was derived from thissource, and had a strong and disagreeable taste. A few feet away fromeach pump was a stagnant pool into which the waste water flowed. Ithink it is reasonable to suppose that a good proportion of it, afterfiltering through the sand, was pumped up again. In spite of thesetrifles we were told that the water had been analysed and passed bythe medical authorities. I suppose both the colour and flavour wereonly due to the presence of iron, in which case I have no doubt it wasan excellent tonic. I should have liked to have seen the doctor's facehad he been made to swallow a glassful. I am thinking of forming acompany for the purpose of building a hydro on the site of the oldcamp, so that every one may have an opportunity of enjoying perfecthealth by taking the Ströhen waters. I hope the reader will assist meby buying shares in this excellent concern. (A large cemetery will, ofcourse, be necessary, but grave-digging should not prove to beexpensive, the soil being very light!)

The safest and most comfortable place in the camp was the smallhospital, which was under the care of a very decent corporal in aBrandenburg regiment. The dining and common rooms were in one longbarrack, divided into two sections. At one end of the latter was acanteen of sorts, which ultimately improved considerably. The sanitaryarrangements were most primitive, the breezes constantly reminding oneof their inefficiency. For the first month the weather was glorious, and during the evening stroll round it was maddening to watch the redsun slowly sinking behind the distant woods to the westward, showingus the way to Holland and freedom. The journey by train would havebeen accomplished in a few hours under ordinary circumstances. It wasalmost incredible to think, though it was only too true, that a fewstrands of wire and some grey-clad sentries could keep us confined inthis desert-like camp, containing neither grass nor trees, isolatedfrom all the pleasures of summer. Whenever there was a wind we enjoyeda whirling sandstorm. Often I have seen it so thick as to temporarilyobscure the further camp buildings. If we had only been allowed camelsand facilities for exercising, we should soon have looked upon ajourney across the Sahara as mere child's play. After a victory (realor imaginary), or an anniversary, it was with very rebellious feelingsthat we watched the German flag fluttering in the breezes. I did notmind the coloured one quite so much, but it was almost more than Icould stand to see the pale yellow flag, framing the treacherousscraggy black eagle, flying over my head. In one part of the campthere was just room for a game of tennis. Several classes were formedfor learning languages, and indulging in "physical jerks" (culture), though I'm sorry to say I much preferred watching and jeering with theever increasing majority. 

Occasionally sports days were organised, which went off in style, thechief items being short races, jumping, cock-fighting, also acompetition which necessitated each individual eating a sticky bundangling from a tightly stretched string without using his hands. Thismay not sound much of a feat, but when one realises that the bunconsists of a chunk of stale black bread exuding coarse treacle, thedifficulty will be better understood. Several canaries had beenbrought along from the former camp. In one instance a man in theFlying Corps, possessing a sitting bird, carried her so carefully thatshe never left the eggs and eventually reared her young at Ströhen. 

Latterly chip carving became the fashion, as it was then possible toobtain the necessary articles from a German firm through the canteen. Concerts were frequently held, and as the camp contained veryconsiderable talent, we had some really first class performances, after being allowed to hire a piano from the nearest town. One day anew lot of orderlies arrived and took up their quarters in a barrackseparated from our part of the camp by some wire. Among their numberwas a private called Cheeseman, a born comedian, who used to get upsing-songs and sketches; the star turn, however, was a selection fromhis orchestra, which he used to conduct with a broomstick from aninverted bucket. The instruments were two mandolines, one banjo, onemandola, a tin whistle, an accordion, a rattle, a comb, and a lump ofiron. Somehow the performers played in tune, but they always sent usinto fits of laughter, and even amused the watching Huns. AlthoughCheeseman often disappeared into cells for several days, he was neverreally squashed and always reappeared with a new joke. I was luckyenough to receive a good assortment of flower seeds from home, including sunflowers, sweet peas, nasturtiums, etc. ; these Iimmediately planted in a tiny museum-like garden, and tendedcarefully, in the hope that some day the plants would assume largeenough proportions to enable me to believe temporarily on specialoccasions that I was actually amid the flowers of good old England. Inmy case the deception was fortunately not necessary, as I wasdestined to enjoy the real thing, though unfortunately in hospital. 

TREATMENT. --The first roll calls, though unnecessarily long, werequite entertaining. They were conducted by a guards lieutenant with apronounced limp, who went by the name of "Cork-leg. " Even whenspeaking of a matter of no importance his voice would become louderand louder until it threatened to reach a shrill scream. On oneoccasion when the interpreter was not present, some unoffending personasked the Hun a question in English. Cork-leg replied, with a dreadfulroar, that we must understand that the language of the camp wasGerman, and German only. Things were going a little too far, so everytime the gentleman gave expression to his thoughts in too vehement amanner most of us whispered a long-drawn "Hush. " The parade being insquare formation, when he turned suddenly to arrest the offender, hefound those facing him wearing an air of injured innocence, whilethose in his rear continued the good work. This had the desiredeffect, and although it meant "_stuben_ arrest" for several fellows, the officer soon realised what an ass he was making of himself andbecame almost normal, with the result that things went smoothly for awhile. 

Soon after our arrival, a fortnight, to be correct, the newlycaptured infantry officers, numbering about fifty, were ordered togive up their steel helmets at a given roll call. This naturally wentagainst the grain. The owners mostly destroyed the rubber padding andhid the helmets, resolving that at least they should not benefit theHun. At the appointed time eight instead of fifty were surrendered tothe officer on duty. On the morning of the twelfth of June a number ofGerman soldiers set to work with poles and hooks to drag the pools forsubmerged helmets. By and by they succeeded in picking out quite anumber of those steel fish, every additional one landed calling fortha subdued cheer from the onlookers. In the afternoon, having nothingto do but kill time, I strolled out of a barrack, my hands in mypockets, with no immediate objective in view. Outside a few Germanswere still fishing for helmets, while half a dozen Britishers werelazily watching operations. After joining them for a minute or two Iturned to walk over to another building. True, there were somesentries with fixed bayonets lounging about, but that was nothingunusual, for they might well be in charge of the orderlies who wereworking near by. I had not gone ten yards when a tall, unshaven_Landsturmer_ swung round and barred my way. He told me with a snarlthat I was not allowed there and motioned me back with his hand. Itold him that I was not aware of any new order and only wished to goto the neighbouring building. Whereupon he repeated his words in astill more offensive tone, and brought his rifle to the ready. (Even aGerman sentry is supposed to be reasonably polite when addressing anofficer prisoner for the first time, but this man was purposely rude. )I replied that if he addressed me as a British officer and not as adog I should obey him at once, otherwise I should remain where I was. After a few more unintelligible threats he advanced, brandishing hisweapon, at which I turned sideways to call to a German N. C. O. Andprotest against such treatment. The kindly sentry aimed a smashingblow at my left foot, which I was luckily able to partially deflect bya slight movement of my knee. Things were certainly quite disturbing, for the next instant he stuck the bayonet almost through my rightthigh. The proceeding was not particularly pleasant, feeling very likea sharp burn, but I was almost too surprised to realise fully what hadhappened, so consequently remained standing where I was. Vaguely Irealised that the sentry had withdrawn his bayonet for another thrust, this time evidently intended to enter my body. Glancing down I sawthat my trouser leg was saturated and streaming with blood, which waseven welling out of my shoe on to the ground, showing that an arteryhad been severed. Not being particularly partial to bayonet thrusts, Idecided that I could now abandon my argument without loss of prestige. I succeeded in hobbling a few yards to the rear, at the same timeholding the artery above the wound in an endeavour to check the flowof blood. This, however, did not prove very successful, the sandcontinuing to turn red behind me. Just as I was in the act of falling, a number of our fellows, seeing what had happened, rushed up andcarried me hastily into the camp hospital, where a tourniquet wasapplied and the doctor sent for. The time was then a quarter-pastthree, and the doctor did not arrive till after seven o'clock. Irather fancy if an accident of that sort had occurred in an Englishprison camp containing over four hundred German officers, it would notbe necessary to wait almost four hours before the arrival of aqualified doctor. 

At the best of times a very tight tourniquet is distinctlyuncomfortable. The medical orderly thinking that I should loseconsciousness and seeing the commandant enter the room, explained thecircumstances and asked if he might give me a little brandy. Afterdue consideration and much chewing at the ragged end of his eternalcigar, he replied that as water would be given to a wounded Germansoldier, it was good enough for me. Though I pretended not to hear, these remarks impressed me considerably. The N. C. O. Looked after mevery well, and early next morning took me to the station in anambulance on my way to Hanover Hospital. Two private soldiers acted asstretcher-bearers, with the N. C. O. In charge. When the train arrivedit was found that the stretcher was too broad to go into a carriage, so I travelled in the luggage van, among trunks, bicycles and basketsof fish. The Germans were quite jolly and sang a few songs, while I, in a half dead condition, endeavoured to accompany them on my belovedmandoline. At Hanover I was dumped down at a Red Cross centre belowthe station to await the ambulance. Soon quite a pretty nurse (for awonder) came up and inquired if I was English. I could not resistreplying in German: "Yes, sister, I am one of those _SchweinhundEnglanders_!" To my surprise she seemed quite embarrassed, and hastilyanswered me that they did not say that _now_. (Emphasis on the _now_. )In the conveyance I lay beside a wounded German private, also boundfor hospital. When my curiosity had broken the ice, he told me thathe had just returned from the Messines Ridge, where he had acquired agreat respect for British artillery and mines (though he himself was asapper). The Hanover hospitals which usually take in prisoners areNos. 1 and 7; to my relief I was taken to No. 1, which is recognisedas the best. I received practically the same treatment as the Germanpatients, and occupied a room with three other British officers. Someof the food we received was quite good, a little fresh milk andbutter, and one or two whitish rolls of bread, and, of course, theusual doubtful soups. Immediately outside the window was a largeflowering acacia tree, looking delightfully shady and cool afterStröhen desert. Another luxury we sometimes enjoyed was strawberries, which the German orderly bought in large quantities, afterwardsselling them to some of the doctors and nurses as well as ourselves. At frequent intervals a band outside played a very ordinaryuninteresting dead march, announcing each time a German (usually apatient) had gone "West. " Soon after my arrival I saw a Zeppelinflying very low over the town. I was delighted and remarked to a Boschthat it was the first Zeppelin I had ever seen. He was quite indignantand told me that I ought to know that it was a Schutte-Lanz, a newtype of airship. My education must have been sadly neglected!

Bayonet wounds are, for several reasons, liable to become septic;mine, however, healed up remarkably quickly, saving me endless bother. In a fortnight I started back to the camp, accompanied by a N. C. O. Anda private, who helped me slowly along. We went by train, withoutcausing much interest. This was a good thing, for it is very hard tolook dignified when feeling like nothing on earth, and looking aswhite as a sheet. Many of the small boys were dressed up as soldiersin one way or another, and I twice saw a small ragamuffin band withtins for kettle-drums. Just wouldn't there be a fine scrap if asimilar band of London children had suddenly rounded the corner!Personally, I would back the cockney spirit against any other. Thiswas my second visit to Hanover, and on no occasion had I seen a motorother than the one ambulance car, though I heard two in the distance. Owing to the scarcity of rubber I was surprised at the number ofbicycles present in the streets, but closer inspection proved thatthat difficulty had been overcome by a clever invention, by which theshock is lessened by an outer wooden rim held in position by strongsprings, which are compressed as they take the weight. During thetrain journey my escort, as usual, drew my attention to the splendidway in which the Germans treated their prisoners by allowing them totravel second class. They simply would not believe that Germanofficers in England always travelled first. The private, who owned acigar factory in Hanover, became quite chatty and seemed very anxiousto know if I thought the trade relationships between England andGermany would be the same as ever after the war. He was very surprisedand, indeed, quite distressed when I told him that I thought therewould be a considerable change--it seemed that the idea had neveroccurred to him before. 

I was not sorry when the camp was reached and I entered the littlecamp hospital to remain there for another two weeks. Several fellowshaving escaped from the camp temporarily, the commandant got the sack. Many speculations concerning his probable successor were indulged in, and I think the general opinion of the camp was that the newcomermight be better, though he could not be worse. We soon discovered ourmistake. His first appearance was not exactly promising. Two fellowswhile walking round the camp suddenly heard a stream of abuseviolently directed at them, and looking up, they saw the commandantcoming towards them through a gate in the wire, fairly bursting withrage. His unreasonable complaint was that he had not been salutedwhile entering his office outside the wire! The offenders were at oncepacked off to cells for two or three days. The next day a fewBritishers arrived from another camp, and while they were waitingoutside to be admitted, a small and orderly crowd collected on theinside to see if they could recognise any one, or exchange a fewremarks. Being unable to walk much I watched the proceedings from thewindow of my room and was able to see everything that took place. Without any warning the mad commandant rushed out of a building and upto the wire, where he screamed at the little gathering like a madman, making violent motions to show that they were to go back. It isperfectly legitimate to stand in a group as long as every one behavesand no one touches the neutral zone wire. One must stand somewhere. Inthis case he had absolutely no right to order a move. The interpreter, who happened to be near, walked up and said that the commandantdesired us to go away, whereupon the officers began to disperse, wishing to humour him. I was startled to see two soldiers come throughthe gate with fixed bayonets in a quick business-like way, to drivethe fellows back faster, evidently by the commandant's express orders. The younger of the two guards went straight up to an unoffendingmedical student, a Lieutenant Downes (S. Staffs. ), who was thenturning round, and pricked him in the stomach with his bayonet. Toprevent the steady pressure making the slight wound worse, Downesseized the end of the rifle and, jerking the point out, swung it tothe right, and then turning round walked quickly back. The sentry, after running past several other officers, overtook him and, to myhorror, stuck the bayonet into his back. After continuing his walk fora few steps Downes collapsed and was at once carried into hospital, the next day being taken to Hanover. The wound was very serious, however; we received a message from the hospital a few days laterstating that the bayonet had penetrated into one lung, but that he wasgetting on well and would probably soon recover. 

The same sentry, in his eagerness to obey orders, tried to bayonet aCaptain Woodhouse, but as his prey jumped back just in time, onlysucceeded in cutting the skin. By this time a large crowd hadcollected, which the sentries continued slowly forcing back, althoughthey were then fifty yards from the wire. As the news spread the crowdbecame larger, but remained ominously quiet, the two Germans notseeming to realise the danger of their position. It is the worstfeeling I know to watch a cowardly display of this sort and yet beable to do absolutely nothing. It only needed a spark to seteverything in a blaze, which must have ended in the guard being turnedout for machine-gun practice. Meanwhile, the news reached someBritishers who were half-way through a concert. By mutual consent itwas at once broken up by the singing of the National Anthem. Every oneoutside at once stood to attention and heartily joined in the last fewbars. It was the most impressive scene one could possibly imagine. Iam sure that no one who had witnessed it would in after years, withoutfeeling murder in his heart, watch a man belonging to the mongrelbreed, which is not infrequently seen sitting down while everybodyelse is standing for the National Anthem, only being forced grudginglyto his feet by public opinion, even then not removing his hat unlessit is knocked off. I am convinced that if Ramsay Macdonald and a fewof his colleagues could have spent a week in a bad German prison campthey would be only too willing to instruct their misguided followersin singing "God Save the King, " in the spirit and way in which itshould be and was sung at Ströhen on July 15th, 1917. The situationwas saved. 

Our senior officer took advantage of the pause at the end while wewere still under control, standing at attention, and told us toseparate at once, as he would do everything that was possible. At thisIsrael departed every man to his own tent. The major asked for animmediate interview with the commandant, but the German captain whohad entered replied that that was unfortunately impossible as thatofficer had gone out at lunch time and would not return till late. Itwas a most "kolossal" lie, but I do not think that the captain shouldbe saddled with it, as he was, doubtless, acting under instructions. Most of those present, including myself, would have sworn on oath thatwe had seen the commandant a few minutes before and that he had causedall the trouble. But then what is one to do? Of course the usualcomplaints went (or rather were supposed to go) to higher authority(ambassadors and the like), but no satisfaction was obtained. It seemsnot unlikely that they all found their way into the office waste-paperbasket by the most direct route. 

Again, a few days later about a dozen fellows were watching a party ofGermans, under a _Feldwebel_ Pohlman, digging up an old tunnel whichhad fallen in near the wire. Everything was quiet and Pohlman waseven talking naturally with one of our number, when I noticed him turnand speak a few words to the sergeant of the guard, who turned andentered the guardroom, evidently in a hurry. Knowing that thisPohlman, in spite of his oily manner and smug appearance, was a Hun inevery sense of the word, I kept my weather eye open, warned the othersand strolled off. A few seconds later four of the worst sentries inthe place, having entered the camp unobserved, came running round thecorner of a shed, their bayonets drawn back for thrusting, obviouslyhaving received orders that the next victim had to be finished off, the object, I suppose, being either to teach us a lesson or cause amutiny. Some one shouted a warning to three fellows who were standingtalking to each other unconscious of their danger, but before they hadtime to realise their predicament the sentries were on them. The Hunssingled out a Captain Wilson (R. F. C. ), and before he could get away, surrounded him, while one villainous-looking little Hun lungedstraight at him. By a quick movement Wilson avoided the thrust andsucceeded in breaking away, the bayonet passing through his clothes. The guard continued to press every one back into the centre of thecamp, very serious trouble again only just being avoided. 

Another incident of this sort happened a few days later, when to oursurprise some strong sherry arrived at the canteen, and was soonbought up by the thirsty prisoners. I think there was another objectin view, as well as a desire to make money. Towards evening someEnglishmen were sitting near the wire, close to where the sentry whohad assaulted Downes was stationed. One of the fellows, feeling alittle cheerful, amused himself by alluding to the bravery of the act. At the worst this was only a case calling for a little solitaryconfinement. I suppose the sentry passed the word along to theguardroom, for soon three sentries passed through the camp, metaphorically whetting their bayonets, going towards the scene of thedisturbance. Before reaching it they unslung their rifles and fixedtheir bayonets, doubled round the corner of the building, expecting tosurprise the unfortunate Englander. But to their disgust they onlyfound empty chairs and returned very dejected. 

After this episode we had a dance in the dining-room, several fellowsmaking up into the most charming girls, and did our best to forget ourunpleasant surroundings. At ten o'clock, when we had gone to ourbarracks, according to the rules, Pohlman conducted an armed party ofhalf a dozen Huns with fixed bayonets round the huts and every partof the camp, but failed to find the excuse he was longing for. Nowwhat about the Cambrai officer's question, "Why do you call us Huns?"_Why, indeed?_

The German captain nearly always took roll call. Though fairlyharmless, he was quite mad. He seldom brought an interpreter on paradeand made long speeches and read orders to us, all in German, the greatmajority, of course, not understanding a single word! One day we heardthe new commandant was coming on parade for the first time thatevening, so therefore looked forward to some fun. When the time forthe roll call arrived we were inspected as usual, and were standingwaiting, when the little captain suddenly drew himself up to his fullheight, and screamed out: "_Augen Rechts--Augen Links--Gerade Aus_. "As we were standing in three sides of a square it was an order to makeevery one face the commandant with a martial air. The net result ofthis "Double Dutch" was that everyone broke into an amused smile, which increased almost to hysterics when we caught sight of therecipient of this honour. The commandant was a tall, doddery, antediluvian Prussian colonel, with long grey moustaches, the veryimage of the Monkey Brand advertisement, only perhaps not quite sogood looking. Why he did not fall over his trailing scabbard in everystep remains a mystery to this day. 

There was another curious little trick the captain sometimes indulgedin. In the middle of delivering a tirade he would suddenly point toheaven with a dramatic gesture, as if to prove the truth of a recentstatement by invoking the Kaiser's God. Perhaps some day he will learnthat the popular spirit of Germany lives not above but very far below. 

Soon after our arrival the prison was enlarged, as it always has to bewhen the camp becomes British. Fellows were often sent there for anoffence about which they had never heard, without being able to sayone word in self defence. In about two months I believe nearly halfthe camp had been in "clink. " Until latterly it was forbidden to openwindows at night, but being English we took the law into our own handsand continued opening the windows, refusing to be deprived of freshair in the stifling heat. This naturally resulted in more prison, which at first relieved and then increased the monotony. Though it ishardly credible, our colonel had to carry out a sentence of three days"_stuben_ arrest" for losing his poker! About this time an Australianwas put into prison for a trivial offence which had been committed bysome one else, and did not even receive his sentence for three wholeweeks!

While in "jug" in this camp we were not allowed parcels, writingmaterials, books or smokes. We complained about this to a general whoinspected the camp later; he expressed surprise at this state ofaffairs and had things partially rectified. For about two months allcigars and cigarettes received in parcels were stopped, the onlyreason given being that in some cases they had contained poison fordestroying cattle. Not only were chances of destroying cattleexceedingly small, but we offered to smoke any cigarette they chose togive us from our parcels to prove the falsity of the charge. 

By an agreement between the Governments those serving terms ofimprisonment for offences committed before the 4th of August, 1917, were released, a great number of the gaol-birds being sent to Ströhen. Residing in prison was a captain who made a hobby of beingcourt-martialled. Under this new ruling he was taken out of cells fora few days, only to be put back to await trial for the trumped-upcharge of having poison tablets on his person when recaptured afterhis last escape. I believe the only tablets he carried were either forpurifying water, or Horlick's malted milk. Every one recaptured whentrying to escape in the late winter of 1916 or the following springreceived a sentence of five months' imprisonment, a fortnight theoriginal punishment, and the remainder as a supposed reprisal for thesentence given to escaping Germans in England. 

The food given us was very bad indeed, though the list must havelooked quite nice on paper. Apart from the eternal and loathsomegherkins, of which no mention was made, it asserted that we receivedfish twice a week! The Tuesday fish was of a dried variety, and hadsuch a delicious smell when cooked that it was impossible to enter thedining-room when it was on the prowl! While that on Friday consistedof heaps of old mussels containing quantities of sand and youngpebbles, known amongst ourselves as those ---- barnacles, scraped fromthe ships at Kiel. The whole time I was there I never once had anopportunity of buying any fresh fruit, though it was summer time andwe could have paid good prices. The only result of my bayonetingepisode was that the sentry was congratulated, and I was warned for acourt-martial! When a staff captain arrived from Hanover to collectthe evidence for the approaching trials, quite a cheery little crowdof accused officers were awaiting him. Several of them were to appearon two or three charges, and three R. F. C. Officers were to be triedfor dropping leaflets in the German lines. I believe it came tonothing in the end, as there was not enough evidence to convict them. Captain Scholtz and Lieutenant Wookey do not seem to have been solucky. When my turn came, several German witnesses were produced whoswore that after being struck on the foot with the butt, I had jumpedforward to seize the rifle, asserting that the sentry had only actedin self-defence. (Such a truthful race!) When the captain was takingdown my statement, we frequently got off the subject altogether. Allof a sudden he would assert that the English had started the war andask me the reason for their doing so. Thoroughly roused, I would replythat it was nonsense and he must know it. Then ensued an amusing butfiery argument about the neutrality of Belgium, the use of nativetroops, and frightfulness in general. His plea was that poor littleunoffending Germany was only standing up for herself against a set ofblood-thirsty enemies who wished to crush her. Needless to say, I didnot feel much like sympathising. When we finally got back to business, all particulars were taken as a matter of form, my slaughterer's nameand address being taken down. Before my departure I managed to get aglimpse of it when the captain was out of the room. I do not sufferfrom loss of memory!

The all-absorbing problem of camp life is escaping. Up to this timehalf a dozen fellows had succeeded in getting away from the camp, butwere afterwards recaptured. I will endeavour to give an outline of theseveral attempts and the difficulties to be overcome, which must ofnecessity be very curtailed, this book not being originally writtenfor the benefit of the "Bosch. " The most usual way is to cut the wire, but where sentries are numerous the undertaking is both difficult anddangerous. It is most natural to try stunts of the sort under cover ofdarkness. At this camp, however, the paraffin arc lamps wereparticularly brilliant, and when star-gazing on several occasions Ihave seen rats and mice scuttle across the white sand some distanceaway. Though storms often raged during the day, the wind almostinvariably blew itself out towards night, leaving a dead calm, brokenonly by the tramp of sentries or the distant rattling hum of anightjar. It is a brave man who, having determined this mode of exit, leaves his hut when others are sleeping, and vanishes. Presently, ifhe gets safely across the intervening ground, the faint yet feverishsnipping of wire-cutters is heard, each time being followed perhapsby a slight "ping" as the strained wire separates. The ensuing silenceis almost heart-breaking, for in contrast something else may at anyinstant be increasing its tension, a sentry's trigger-finger. Onestormy night, when in hospital, I had reason to believe that anofficer would make an attempt in that part of the camp at a givenhour, so had an excellent chance of watching operations, which was notwasted. I went to the window and settled down for a long wait. Outsideit was still raining, the sentries being in their boxes. A littlebefore the time I caught sight of a dark figure which clambered out ofthe orderlies' hut and crawled into the neutral zone up to the outsidewire, which he lay parallel to and commenced to cut. To my surprise, another figure joined him from the hut and lay there waiting; this wasan orderly who had decided to join at the last instant. In about oneand a half minutes a large enough gap had been cut, and theadventurers crawled through it, and were preparing to make a dash intothe darkness when a sentry spotted them and stepped out of his box. Having burned their boats, off they went. The sentry ran a few steps, then, stopping abruptly, raised his rifle and fired. It was an anxiousmoment for the onlookers; the fugitives already knew the result, while, as yet, we did not. However, to our relief, the ghost-likefigures continued their flight until they were swallowed up in thedarkness, and the reflection of the artificial light on their wetrain-coats became too weak to give away their position. In theiranxiety to leave the camp behind they tended to separate, but bothfell headlong into a deep ditch, where they met again. In their firstdash one of them dropped most of the provisions, which the Germansdiscovered and brought back to the camp in triumph. Six daysafterwards they were recaptured, thirty kilometres from the border. Two officers cut the wire in broad daylight, when the nearest sentrywas busy opening a gate admitting some orderlies. They left the campby way of a ditch without being seen, crawling as they had nevercrawled before, their heads showing above the level of the fields, like two wobbling cabbages going for a hurried evening stroll. Theirsuccess was short-lived, for, only an hour afterwards, they werespotted and chased by some farmers, being finally brought to a stop bya man with a shot-gun. Another couple left the camp by the followingingenious method. A captain, who spoke German like a native, dressedup in the clothes of a Hun private (somehow acquired). Some of theessential things were missing, and had been manufactured in secret, such as a cap and a painted wooden bayonet, with a lovely colouredtassel. When everything was ready, about ten o'clock one morning, aperfectly good German private marched an R. F. C. Lieutenant, disguisedas an orderly, who carried two buckets (containing their kit), up to agate in the wire, which he rattled to signify that it must be unlockedimmediately. The sentry came along, unlocked the gate, and let himout. They proceeded to the road, which they followed for a shortdistance. That afternoon, while crossing a wild bit of country, theyhad the misfortune to be recaptured by a shooting party, being firstcompletely surrounded by the beaters. Two other officers got outseparately in an ingenious way, the first being recaptured crossing abridge over the Ems, quite near Holland; the second lost direction, and was retaken four days after, having got thoroughly lost. Oneunlucky person was collared just outside the wire, dressed as anorderly, and was taken straight to prison to enjoy a period of perfectrest!

I worked in several tunnels at different times, fitted with air pumpsand perhaps even electric light--who knows? Digging oneself out is, atthe best of times, a slow and difficult proposition, which is almostinvariably discovered sooner or later. The humorous side of tunnellingis so pronounced that, could "Bairnsfather" view one such episode, our bookstalls would shortly be surrounded by eager crowds, clamouringfor the first edition of "Fragments from Germany, " depictingmud-bespattered "Old Bills" crawling for their very lives down narrowtunnels, closely pursued by the wily Hun!

About this time I made my second attempt to escape, and succeeded ingetting outside the wire for the time being, early one afternoonduring bathing hours, only to discover that my proposed hiding-placewas occupied by Germans. After sitting solemnly beside my kit for anhour, expecting discovery every second, I was lucky enough to return, unmolested, with a party of bathers. During this period of anxiouswaiting I was surprised to find that the thought of losing mycarefully prepared outfit was considerably more distressing than theactual prospect of imprisonment. 

 CHAPTER IX

 "AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN"

When a sufficient number of officers had collected for baths at alittle gate, a sentry allowed them to pass through it and along ashort, wired path, or bird-cage (as we called it), and thence into thebath-room. This room was situated about ten yards outside the wire, inthe middle of a wooden barrack, running parallel to, and about fifteenyards away from, the wire. It is subdivided to form a dressing-roomand a place for the shower baths, every exit being strongly barred, and a sentry stationed at the door. After a minute inspection of everynook and cranny, I found that it was just possible, by standingupright, to squeeze into an alcove, about eleven inches deep and afoot wide, in an angle formed by a wall and the brickwork of a chimneywhich projected into the room. 

Though in full view of the door, it was partially hidden behind anempty stove. I reasoned that, should a well-made dummy wall obscurethe aperture, it would take a very observant sentry to detect anythingamiss. As a last resource, even should it be noticed, it might pass assomething to do with the heating of the adjacent room. After weighingup the chances of success for several days, I decided that it wasworth trying. When the measurements had been taken, behind the Bosch'sback, I set to work to manufacture the false wall. 

Most of my friends ridiculed the idea, calling my pet wall a doll'shouse and other insulting names, and bestowing on me much superfluoussympathy and pity. They argued that it had not been done before, andwas, therefore, impossible, doing their level best to stop meembarking on such a mad enterprise. At first they almost succeeded intheir object, but, knowing that most ordinary people remain in a campindefinitely, working on more orthodox lines, I determined that Iwould put it to the test, if only to prove them wrong, or land myselfin prison. One infantry officer, who had previously been through acourse of camouflage, gave me his moral support, which counted for agood deal. 

The wall was made of cardboard sewn tightly on to a light woodenframe, the whole being made in three sections, which, when fittedtogether, reached the height of about eight feet six inches. The topsection was fitted with a leather hinge, which allowed the upper halfof it to slope back at an angle of forty-five degrees, so that thehiding-place should not appear to be hollow. When at last the doll'shouse was finished, it defied all efforts to whiten it, and seemed tohave a rooted objection to being made to resemble the dirty whitewashof the bath-room. I tried melting old whitewash (scraped off thewalls) with gum and hot water, but it either fell off when dry orshowed the wet cardboard plainly through. Chloride of lime provedequally useless. Only a little white paint was procurable, but thiswas altogether too smooth and shiny. One day, when the three sections weredrying outside on the sand, a German _feldwebel_ (sergeant-major--commonlyknown as a "fieldwobble") came along, and inquired if I was making amodel aeroplane. When I replied that his surmise was correct, he askedme, with a slow smile, if I intended flying away when the machine wascompleted. The wicked old creature departed, highly amused at myanswer, "Yes, I hope so. " Certainly many a true word is spoken injest!

After a week's experimenting with useless colouring mixtures, I wasalmost in despair, when the desired effect was produced by coating thecardboard with a thick cornflour paste, finally toning it down with amixture of cobwebs and mud. 

Though on three separate occasions I had everything ready for thefinal test, it was not before August 16th that conditions were at lastfavourable enough to risk my welfare for the next few weeks. A littlebefore five o'clock I entered the bath-room, accompanied by severalassistants. Our journey thither was rather amusing, though theslightest accident would have meant much "_stuben_ arrest. " It is noteasy to walk naturally when carrying a young wall out of sight underone's coat, which is doing its best to give the show away by sheddingbits of plaster which fall to the ground and leave a trail, remindingone strongly of a paper chase. 

However, the sentries noticed nothing unusual. As soon as the Hun'sback was turned I slipped the sections together and squeezed into thealcove, into which I was securely fastened by a friend, who whisperedthat everything looked O. K. , and asked me to be sure and write to himwhen I got to England. Whether this was meant or not I do not know, but at any rate it was just the encouragement I needed. It was ananxious moment when everybody left the room with a final "Good luck, "and I heard the sentry approaching to make sure that nobody had beenleft behind. Previously I had determined not to watch the Hun, as mygaze might render him more liable to look in my direction. Now, underthe stress of circumstances, this seemed a physical impossibility, andall good resolutions went to the winds. I glued one eye to thespy-hole and saw a German standing only a few feet away, with his backto me, puffing solemnly at a long pipe, a rifle slung over hisshoulder. Almost immediately, as if in answer to my concentrated gaze, he turned and looked straight in my direction. I promptly shrivelledup to nothing, and developed acute suspended animation. I simply darednot breath, and felt as if my thoughts were becoming audible. Myrelief was indescribable when he turned away, and left in an ordinarymanner. Though one crisis was over, the strain had been such that ittook me several minutes to "defossilise" and grasp the fact that, somewhere in the dim distance, the chances of success were increasing. 

A few minutes later a N. C. O. Came in, and searched about for soap. Ashe was pocketing some small bits left behind, my wall threatened tofall outwards, but I managed to hold it steady until he went away. Afive-and-a-half hour wait lay in front of me, and, my prison beingdark, stifling and hot, the time passed intolerably slowly. Afterwaiting patiently for what I judged to be anything from half tothree-quarters of an hour, I would glance at my watch, only todiscover that, in reality, four or five minutes had passed. My primarysuccess was evidently well known inside the camp, for most of thefellows taking their evening stroll cast anxious veiled glances in mydirection, from the wrong side of the wire. 

It was with both pleasure and anxiety that I watched the darknessslowly closing in, though I felt inclined to disbelieve that "Time andtide wait for no man. " Half-past ten did eventually arrive, and withit the now unwelcome time for action. Slowly, and with infinitecaution, I stepped out into the room, and replaced the wall to givesome one else a chance later on. Most of my kit was in the stove, and, as there were no fire-irons about, considerable noise was made liftingthe iron top and extracting the contents with my fingers. Everythingwas now squashed into a sort of pack, and I approached the window ontip-toe. Within the camp all was quiet, but there, just outside, passing and repassing on his beat, often not ten yards away, was aparticularly young and active German sentry, stepping quietly, with anelastic tread. He held his rifle in his hands, and gazed intently intothe camp, as if expecting some shooting practice. When he reached theend of his short beat, I opened the door with many misgivings, andcrept along a passage to the back of the hut. Entering the emptywash-room, I saw that my information had been correct, the windowswere not barred. In an adjoining room several Huns were settling downfor the night, their light showing under the door. 

I had almost reached the nearest window when, with a most appallingcrash, I overturned an empty bucket in the dark. Listening an instant, I heard surprised voices and waited for no further developments, but, coat, pack and all, jumped through the half-open window and fell intoa ditch below. Struggling up and tripping over another wire, I landedin another ditch. After leaving this my way lay beyond the shadow ofthe hut across a cultivated patch of moor, planted with potatoes, which was illuminated by the arc lamps. I covered this in record time, everything rattling and seeming to make a most deafening noise, asthough all the devils in Hell were after me with red-hot pitchforks, expecting to hear a bullet whistle by every moment. However, nothinghappened, and when several hundred yards away, I halted for about tenminutes to listen for the bugle sounding the alarm. It would have beensome satisfaction to know that the camp was buzzing like a bee-hive, and all on my account! But, owing to the clever way in which my roommates worked it, my absence was not noticed, and so this pleasure wasdenied me. 

I shouldered my heavy pack and started out over the heather in thedirection indicated by the stars. The greatest obstacles were the peatbogs, into which I often sank knee-deep, and had to crawl out. Afterabout two hours rough walking, I was lying among the heather resting, when I was startled by a slight noise like the rattle of a chain. Looking up quickly as the moon came out from behind a cloud, I saw adark shape, which seemed to move considerably closer and a little tothe left, as I watched. A general survey of my position was notreassuring, for, in the light, I could distinctly see half-a-dozenmore dark forms situated on my front and sides at regular intervals, mostly in a crouching position. Instantly I thought that somehow I hadbeen traced by dogs, and that these were sentries. Knowing the gentleway in which the inmates of this camp were treated, I must confessthat I was very scared. I had not even a stick; besides, one couldwish for a more congenial meeting-place to accost gentlemen of thissort than a lonely moor at midnight. Behind me was a long cutting, filled with dark water, from which peat had been taken; into this Icautiously slid up to my shoulders, and waited developments. Nothinghappened, and, as I became colder and colder, I began to think that, after all, I had been mistaken. Was it possible that they were onlyheaps of peat? At last I summoned up enough courage to crawl out andapproach one of the mysterious forms. Still nothing happened, and myconfidence increased considerably. I had only gone a few yards when Isaw that it was actually only a heap of peat with a large piece lyingnear the top which protruded sideways, this having formed the supposedsentry's head. Even then I did not feel quite convinced until Iadministered a hard kick and there was no retaliation. 

During the night I passed several villages, and once found myselfamong a lot of small apple trees, which I shook violently. Downtumbled some unripe fruit. It did not take long to fill my pockets andclear off at full speed. Towards morning I lost sight of the camplights, and, entering a small fir plantation, arranged a goodhiding-place and soon fell asleep. In less than an hour I awoke in asoaking condition, and sat up with a start, the only result being thatthe movement shook the fir branches over my head, and a shower-bathensued. The next day I enjoyed five thunderstorms! No sooner had onepassed over than another came up. My home-made tent, a large sheet ofgreen oilsilk, smuggled from home, kept off a good deal of the rain, but, nevertheless, I had a good opportunity of studying the conditionof a half-drowned rat. In spite of the wet and the presence of somelarge wood-ants, I rather enjoyed the sour apples, the first I hadtasted that summer. Once during the afternoon a red squirrel camejumping over the fir needles, and looked up impudently into my face. The sight of so much ugliness almost overcame him, but he managed toscamper off at a good speed. I tried hard to attract this, my onlyfriend, by pretending to be Hiawatha, and calling him an"_Adjidaumo_, " but this only hurried his retreat. 

My food consisted mostly of chocolate and biscuits, though, for thefirst three days, I did not feel at all hungry. Water was very scarce, but I received more than my share a few days later. The third night, leaving the moon behind, I climbed over a barbed wire fence, and foundmyself among a lot of large and boney black-and-white Holstein cattle. Murmuring soft German words of endearment, I approached the nearestcow in the hope of obtaining some milk. However, these good creatures, thinking it a most unusual milking hour, were not having any, andshowed their disapproval of my conduct by careering madly round thefield, making a fiendish noise, which caused the author of thedisturbance to take to his heels for fear of discovery. A little laterI changed my tactics. After stealing several luscious apples, Ipresented them to another walking milk-tank. The creature had a softerheart, and succumbed to the temptation. Everything went according toplan, for, while she munched the apple contentedly, I proceeded tofill a large tin mug several times over. I tramped for ten nights, andonly missed my milk three times. Another night, passing in front of afarm-house, I came upon a full milk-can standing by a gate; thecontents not only filled my water bottle, but even satisfied me. 

One morning, after an unusually long march, I flopped down and went tosleep in an overgrown ditch, surrounded by gorse and broom. The sunwas just rising when I awoke with the idea that I was lying on a bedof pins. The idea grew to a firm conviction when an involuntarymovement of mine considerably increased my discomfort. As I lay tryingto solve the problem in a semi-conscious condition, the solution ranacross my face; it seemed to have a great many legs. As my fingersclosed round it I received another violent pin-prick, but held onmanfully and, with an effort, forced myself to look at my prey. It wasa gigantic angry wood-ant, which hung on to my finger for all it wasworth. Considering the two things which terrify me most are ants andcentipedes, perhaps the reader will understand my perturbed state ofmind when I found myself lying beside a large ants' nest, being slowlydevoured by its inhabitants, like a fat green caterpillar. As ifpropelled by a rocket I sprang up, and ran up and down the short ditchat full speed. When fatigue had brought me to a stop I was delightedto find that they had mostly been shaken off out of my clothes. It wasimpossible to find a resting place free from ants, the whole place wasinfested with them. In my efforts to avoid them I climbed to the topof a thick pine tree, but even there my little friends were paradingalong the branches. The day proved to be so hot and thundery that, before twelve o'clock, the milk in my bottle turned solid and had tobe eaten like junket. It was with great satisfaction that I watchedthe darkness setting in, for, under its protection, I was enabled toleave the unholy spot and continue my nightly travels. 

One of the things which had troubled me considerably when planning myescape was how to reset my watch should it go wrong. As it was, thevillage clocks kept me well informed by striking the hour with muchvigour. The next day, as I lay hidden at the edge of a very youngplantation, a party of labourers with scythes assembled not far away. After leaving their coats and, presumably, their provisions behind, they proceeded to cut the grass along the edge of the plantation andin a neighbouring field. As I lay "doggo" I formulated many plans forstealing their food to replenish my store, but finally decided thatthe risk was too great. Only once did I think that I had beendiscovered, for, as I was passing my time in a wood by carving asouvenir stick, something burst close beside me, making quite acommotion and breaking many twigs. Just before the branches closed Icaught sight of a fluffy white tail. After all it was only afrightened deer. 

Late on the sixth night I was walking fast along the side of a roadwhich led through a forest when, stopping an instant to listen, Iheard a low voice shout about forty yards in front. Then some oneapproached with a previously concealed lantern. Instantly I jumpedover the ditch, hoping to get away under the trees unnoticed. Unfortunately, I landed on some dry twigs, which crackled at everystep and betrayed my presence. Remembering the deer incident, Iemitted a loud, coughing bark, such as those animals make, and crashedthrough the undergrowth, making as much noise as possible. To myrelief I saw that the man with the lantern turned back to his post torejoin his companion--presumably the ruse succeeded. It was just aswell I was not caught here, for now I have reason to believe that Iwas close to an important aerodrome, and that this was aguard--possibly against espionage. 

The distance covered was, roughly, a hundred and sixty miles, and, during the whole period, only once did I recognise the name of a smalltown on a milestone, which told me I was going in the right direction. The fact of having no one to talk to for so many days, combined withthe uncertainty of it all, had the most depressing influence. Whilewaiting for the long days to pass, killing countless mosquitoes, Ifrequently wondered if the stars could be purposely leading me in thewrong direction, or if peace had been declared, and I was on anunnecessarily tiring walking tour. As I was approaching a busyrailway, I frequently heard thuds and crashes, or, if the wind wassteady, a faint roar, which, I afterwards found, was caused by thecontinued traffic and shunting of trucks. This troubled me quite alot, for it sounded exactly like an intermittent bombardment, and notinfrequently increased in volume, until I am convinced an old soldierwould have sworn it was a distant barrage. I pictured my arrival atthe frontier only to learn that Holland had decided to be in thefashion, and was therefore running a little war on her own, on thepopular Bolshevik excuse of upholding the cause of democracy. The onlything left for me to do would have been to have turned about and, after many trials and hardships, succeed in getting into Switzerland, where Fate, with a smile on her face, would probably have arranged tohave me shot by accident while on my way through Zurich, during thesubsequent riots. 

Our "_moutons_" in the meantime, have been straying badly; it is, therefore, our duty to leave dreams to take care of themselves, andreturn to the subject without more ado. When I had been on the loosefor a week the country became very flat and sodden--water waseverywhere. Most of the roads were banked up to guard against flood, while all ditches were transformed into small canals. Trees becamescarcer and, consequently, the daily problem of finding effectualcover increased in difficulty. Nearly all the seventh night I followeda tow-path at the side of an important canal, which led in a northerlydirection. Innumerable movable bridges, traversing the lesserwaterways which flowed into the big canal, had to be crossed. Thisprocedure was more alarming than one might suppose, as the frailbridges shook at the slightest touch, and also advertised my crossingto the inmates of the usual adjoining lodge by magnifying every littlesound. Most of the way, moored at the water's edge, were barges ladenwith peat, containing all sorts of dogs; in fact, in several instancesthey seemed to be veritable floating dogs' homes. These creaturesbarked as if paid to, and were usually sympathetically answered bydogs some distance in advance, thus inadvertently proclaiming the newsof my arrival. Once two men came out of a cottage twenty yards ahead, and, stopping in the path, turned round and watched me approaching. That time I really thought the game was up. It was absolutelyessential to maintain a bold exterior, despite the fact that mybreathing apparatus almost ceased to work. Slouching quickly along, Iwhistled a bar or two of "Püppchen. " Curiously enough my presence atthat time of night created no suspicion, for I passed them withoutbeing spoken to. Before taking a road leading to the west, I sat downand dissolved my last Oxo cube in a mug of cold, greenish canal water. The meal is prepared as follows: First suck your middle finger untilit tastes clean, then stir the Oxo until it is dissolved (this usuallytakes about half an hour). Before drinking the concoction it isnecessary to remove any dead fishes that may be floating on thesurface, and also make certain that none of the Oxo is wasted byremaining underneath the finger nails. 

At intervals I was very gratified to see that the sky, to the northand north-east, was illuminated by distant searchlights. As severalnaval bases lay in that direction, it is reasonable to suppose thatthe Huns were expecting a visit from our airmen. After following theroad for over an hour, I procured some excellent apples at a waysidefarm-house, and beat a hasty retreat. As time wore on and the milkcarts began rumbling on their rounds, I quickened my pace andcommenced a desperate search for cover. Leaving the road, I headedacross the fields, and after jumping, or falling into, several floodedditches, came to an overgrown marsh. A few yards from _terra firma_was a large sallow bush, growing on a tiny island. After gettingthoroughly wet, I succeeded in crawling on to this and screening myheadquarters from prying eyes with green rushes. As it became lighter, I heard occasional voices and peculiar creakings, the cause of which Icould not interpret, and might well render my position unsafe. Theanxiety was increased when a large, dark shadow loomed out of the fogand threatened to completely swallow my little island. All at once thecurling white mist drifted away, and everything was explained in aninstant. The terrifying shadow resolved itself into the greatred-brown sail of a passing barge. I was lying close beside thetow-path of a canal. Just as the sun had risen over the trees and themists were beginning to disperse and float upwards, another noiseattracted my attention, which developed into a deep throbbing roar. Looking up, I saw three large "Zepps, " flying low, and rollingslightly in the stiff morning breeze, returning to their lair after astrenuous night out. As they passed over the school-children in aneighbouring village cheered excitedly. 

Except for the usual mosquito bites and inability to sleep, the daypassed uneventfully. When darkness fell and all was quiet again, Ionce more saddled up and started out, this time earnestly hoping, yetfearing, to reach the river Ems, which had to be swum whateverhappened. About midnight I came to something concrete at last--along-expected railway. After a short reconnaissance, I crossed this, and made my way over the fields towards the all-important river, whichflowed parallel to the frontier and about twenty kilos away from it. Every few yards I came to a dyke, which always had to be passedthrough if the direction was to be kept. It was an odious experience, for, no sooner did I emerge dripping from one than it was time toenter the next. About three o'clock, after milking several cows andswimming a few small canals, I passed through some open flood-gates, built in a grass ridge made to keep the water from encroaching on thelow-lying farms, and came upon a most disheartening sight. Beyondseveral hundred yards of dangerous marsh flowed the river, lookingvery white in the deceptive light of early morning. The waveletsformed by the steady wind and the current were making a faint, butdisconcerting, noise. Though it was only just possible to discern theopposite bank, there seemed to be a similar line of marshy groundbetween it and the water's edge. I determined to see if it waspossible to get through the marsh with any degree of safety, but gaveup the idea when some of the old decayed reeds on which I was standingsuddenly gave way and let me through into the water up to my waist. Nomatter how good a swimmer, a reedy swamp is more than one can contendwith, therefore I gave up the idea. Crawling out and walking a littleway along the bank, something loomed up in front of me out of thedarkness, which turned out to be a long iron bridge. Lookingcautiously along it, I saw a couple of dim lights burning near theother side. What an easy way over; how I should have loved to strollacross; but it could not be, for a German guard was waiting there toreceive me with open arms. Reluctantly I turned away and struckinland, intending to travel parallel to the river for some distanceand then try my luck at another place. Shortly afterwards, whentramping along on the grass at the side of a road in search of ahiding-place, I heard footsteps approaching. At either side of theroad grew a row of young trees, but, unfortunately, the trunks werenot large enough to hide behind. The conditions were such as to renderdiscovery inevitable should a hasty retirement be effected. Forseveral precious seconds I stood paralysed with indecision, seeing mydanger, yet unable to avoid it; meanwhile it seemed that cruel fatewas carelessly deciding my destiny, weighing freedom against captivityin a balance, which my indecision was slowly causing to turn againstme. For a brief period my brain refused to work, except vaguely tobring to my notice a few lines from "Eldorado, " which affirm thatthere exists a loophole of escape in every difficult situation. Thisseemed to affect my present critical position, though it in no wisesuggested a course of action. 

As I looked at the dyke which ran along at the side of the raisedroad, calculating that the noise made by a passage through it wouldonly lead to detection, I clearly remembered an incident in "LornaDoone, " in which John Ridd, when a boy, had completely avoideddiscovery by his enemy (Carver Doone) by submerging himself in astream and breathing through a straw. Without waiting to remove thepack, I followed his example by throwing myself on my face andcrawling backwards on to the tangled reeds, which parted with asquelch and let me through into the stagnant water. The dyke proved tobe deeper than I expected. My feet barely touched the bottom, so thatI was literally clutching a straw to keep myself up. As the footstepspassed I kept my face and head under the surface, and trusted toProvidence. When all the sounds died away, it took me some timestruggling with mud, weeds and water, before I could extricate myselffrom that confounded ditch. I do not make a good water-rat; I wouldtherefore suggest to the German authorities that they should trainwater spaniels, and not police dogs, for pursuit of prisoners in thefuture. 

I had only been walking for a little while when the distant rumble ofa milk-cart reminded me that it was past time to hibernate. Then beganthe usual desperate search for cover. It became lighter and lighter, and, just as the mist was about to rise, I saw the faint outline of aclump of trees several hundred yards away. Plunging through moredykes I arrived at the trees, only to find that they were growing in asmall garden and orchard which surrounded a large farm-house. As noone appeared to be stirring, and the discovery of an immediatehiding-place was essential, I commenced explorations. The privet hedgesurrounding this oasis proved to be very thin and there were noconvenient little bushes. I had just borrowed a good supply of applesfrom mine host, and had almost decided to seek shelter in an outhouseas a last resource, when I came upon a fair-sized heap of sticks, overwhich a hop plant sprawled, forming a straggly green covering. Therebeing no better place, I decided that the hop would have to serve asmy headquarters for that day. I was just moving some of the stickswhen something caused me to remember the lateness of the hour. From apigsty a few yards away came expectant squeals. The occupantsdoubtless imagined that I was arriving with their breakfast. As I wasgetting ready to crawl into the sticks, I caught sight of a littlepatch of washing close by, lying spread on the grass at the corner ofa small green lawn. When the good lady came for her washing she would, in all probability, discover me, which would never do, as it wouldlead to all kinds of little unpleasantnesses. In a very short space oftime I had moved the white handkerchiefs and collars to anothercorner of the lawn, not far away, and returned to the heap. I wasbeginning to tunnel into the sticks, when I heard a man's voice, followed by the clatter of milk cans. Diving into the small holealready made, I wriggled for all I was worth towards the centre, dragging the pack after me. It sounds quite simple; all you have to dois to wriggle; but, in reality, it is surprisingly difficult. When Itried to force an entrance every dead bough in the heap seemed tobreak with an ear-splitting crash, while all the smaller twigscrackled in chorus. The most peaceable sticks developed sharp spikes, which stuck into me. Even when I had removed a particularlyobjectionable one barring the way, another would shoot out and graspmy pack, causing an additional delay. Eventually, in a scratched andweary condition, I got under the centre of the heap, where I layfeeling none too secure. Although I was forced to keep still for fearof attracting attention, I managed to nibble the stolen apples andtake stock of my surroundings. The light shone through the pale greenhop leaves, revealing many hairy caterpillars, incessantly gorging. Inside the heap lived innumerable spiders and other horrors. Thesebelieved in making their presence felt when I did not deign to noticethem. It was a very uncomfortable procedure, drying slowly in a coldwind. Once, when the leaves blew on one side, I caught a glimpse of apear tree swaying overhead, and a dark, forbidding sky in thebackground. That day I enjoyed two heavy thunderstorms. At first theleaves kept off most of the rain, but it soon battered down with suchviolence that the former became limp and hung down, leaving me almostexposed. Everything became saturated. A steady stream of water pouredoff the sticks and ran down my neck, while the insects eagerly soughtshelter in my clothing. When the first storm was over, and I layshivering in the bright interval, two children came out of the houseand played about in the garden, running several times round and roundmy heap. It was such a strain lying absolutely still that I almostwelcomed the second thunderstorm, though it completely soakedeverything that the first one had overlooked. Never in my life have Ipassed such an uncomfortable day. But, in the end, discomfort ispreferable to actual danger in an adventure of this sort. At least soI thought in those days. As it is beyond me to convey to the readerany adequate idea of the unwillingness of the minutes to resolvethemselves into hours, I will not attempt the impossible. Towardsevening some one fired a shot-gun just beyond the privet hedge. Naturally the explosion caused me to jump, but that was nothing to thefright I experienced when it struck me that it might be a small boyout rat shooting, as vermin always run to a conveniently close heap ofsticks for shelter. However, the person did not come my way, and inany case it is probable he was only after wild duck, which frequentmost of the dykes. At last, when I could stand it no longer, Iscrambled out into the dusk, guiltily ignoring the fact that I wasrunning an unnecessary risk by starting on the war-path an hour toosoon. 

 CHAPTER X

 THE EMS

There was no one about, so, after enjoying a good stretch, I pushedthrough the privet, jumped a narrow dyke, and started out over thelow-lying fields towards the high grassy barrier which advertised theapproach to the dreaded river. It was almost dark when I came toanother portion of the winding, snake-like barrier, which curved outas if to meet me. Approaching it, I found that a thick and apparentlyendless prickly May hedge grew along the base. Getting through itproved to be such a painful proceeding that it seems probable that assoon as the hedge saw an Englishman coming towards it, it sharpenedits claws and resolved to defend the way to the frontier to the lastthorn. Of course I may be wrong in my surmise, but I well rememberthat, when I began extracting thorns afterwards, it was like pluckinga pin-cushion. Crawling on hands and knees up the slippery grassyslope, I soon arrived at the top and, scrambling to my feet, lookedeagerly towards the unknown West. The grassy barrier rose to an evenheight of about thirty feet above the low-lying country. On one side, the nearer dykes dividing the fields showed up a dull white in thesemi-darkness; while on the other, beyond a narrow fringe of swayingreed-grass, ran the broad dark river. Although a steady wind wasblowing, it was not quite as strong as on the previous night, thenoise of the ripples breaking on the shore not being so pronounced. AsI had not been dry for several days, the prospect of a prolonged bathewas not at all alluring. The longer I looked towards the opposite bankthe more distant it appeared to be, and the greater became the widthand volume of the river, until it seemed to be quite impassable. Hesitation meant failure, so, running down to the water's edge, Ibegan to undress quickly. All at once it struck me that it would befoolish to wrap all my earthly belongings in one bundle, for, shouldit come to grief on the way over, I should have a decidedly cool timeof it after my arrival at the other bank of the river. 

Besides, it would be most undignified to be compelled to walk up to aGerman sentry and address him thus: "Please, sir, I am suffering fromloss of memory and seem to have mislaid my clothes; would you be goodenough to supply me with a few, as fig trees do not abound in theseparts?"

Therefore, spreading my sodden waterproof on the ground, I depositedin it my tunic, shoes and now half-empty pack. Stuffing all the vacantspace tightly with grass, I secured the corners by binding themtogether with my braces and bits of torn handkerchief. To complete theoperation, I fastened my souvenir walking-stick (which, though largeand clumsy, was exceedingly precious) to the bottom of the bundle inorder to improve its floating capacities. Passing through the thinedging of reed-grass, I stepped into the shallow water and felt myfeet sink into the deep mud, which gurgled hungrily and sent littlelines of bubbles up to the surface. In a few strides I was out of mydepth and amid the swirling eddies, which sought to drag me off downstream. 

Fortunately the water was warm and the bundle floated well. Considering the fact that I had already been tramping for eight dayson short rations, it is not surprising that I found swimming against asteady wind to be very tiring. I kept the bundle well ahead by givingit a good push every few strokes, when I overtook it. After swimmingfor several minutes, I unconsciously changed my direction a little, atthe same time giving the bundle another push ahead. At this part theriver curved slightly, and the result was that the wind caught myworldly belongings and whirled them off down stream. Signalling to theengine-room for full speed ahead, I dashed off in pursuit, soonovertaking the runaway bundle. By this time, being very out of breath, I hung on to it, and was delighted to find that it would practicallysupport me. I had been swimming for some little time and it seemedprobable that my objective would not be far away, so, looking up atthe stars and noting where the west lay, I raised myself in the waterand looked for the opposite bank. Curiously enough, it seemed almostas far distant as it had been at first. Instinctively I looked back, and there, only a little way behind me, was the shore I had just left. I must admit that the sight was not encouraging. Well--hanging on to awaterlogged bundle and swallowing tadpoles would not help matters, soI settled down to business, swimming steadily on my side, but oftenchanging the stroke, and heading a little up-stream to counteract theforce of the current. 

Ever so gradually the water became calmer and the shore more clearlydefined, until I could see a fringe of weeds similar to the one I hadleft. Vaguely I wondered if it would be really worth the extra effortrequired to actually reach it. It seemed so easy to give up. Just as Ifelt my remaining strength slipping away at each stroke I touched somesoft warm mud. Mud as a rule does not have a stimulating effect onone, but then the very touch of it put new life into me. Dragging mybundle, I made a final effort to get ashore, but fell in the shallowwater, where I lay utterly exhausted, hardly conscious of mysurroundings, my head sinking gradually lower and lower. It must havebeen the objectionable taste of the muddy water which brought me to mysenses sufficiently to enable me to leave the river for a morecongenial resting place, namely, some grass at the edge of a field. When at last I got up, feeling very cold, and untied the bundle Ifound that everything was absolutely soaking. Assuredly there are manymore enjoyable pastimes than putting on wet clothes in a cold wind inthe dark. 

When everything was ready for the night's tramp, I discovered that mycap was missing, and after a short fruitless search, decided to leaveit behind. Tired, shivering, and hatless, I started off into the West, reckoning that now the frontier could not be much more than a night'smarch away. No sooner had I crossed the little stubble field than Icame to a ridge, beyond which the ground dropped several feet in asteep slope. As I moved down this incline towards what appeared to bea hedge, the ground became quite wet. Suspiciously I looked ahead intothe darkness towards what seemed to be only an expanse of lowerground. Near the hedge the water rose over my ankles, but I forged on, determined to know the worst. I was not long in suspense, for thehedge in front rustled (a thing that well-trained hedges do not do), and I knew that it was another long line of high reed-grass. FearfullyI parted this with my hands, and there, in front, lay a rippling sheetof water, fully as wide as the river I had just crossed. With a thumpmy heart went down into my boots, and the little devil of despairwhispered that I must be near the mouth of the river, on an island, aprisoner of my own making. (In truth, this was very nearly the case, for, as I feared, I was very far north, this accounting for the volumeand width of the river. ) This stretch of water was totally unexpected. Had I been fresh and known my whereabouts, it would have formed aformidable enough obstacle; as it was, I had already done more than myshare of bathing for that night, and knew that I was in a totallyunfit condition to attempt another long-distance swim. 

Obviously the first thing to be done was to make certain that I wasindeed on an island, so I proceeded to take stock of my surroundings. I noticed that, except for the rough patches on the water which caughtthe wind, the surface was comparatively smooth, and there was no signof a current. Walking a few yards to the right, I saw that the line ofthe old river and this strip of unknown water converged, leavinglittle hope in that direction. I therefore turned about, and startedoff to my left front. Evidence that the cereal crop had been cartedquite recently was plentiful, for there was short, fresh stubble, carttracks, and the impression of horses' hoofs. This pointed to theencouraging fact that I was not on an island, horses and carts notusually being transported by barge or aeroplane. I had not followedthe tracks for more than fifty yards when they turned straight towardsthe water. The next minute I barely stifled a yell of delight, forthere, staring me in the face, was a sort of pontoon bridge, stretching away into the darkness. On closer inspection, I found it tobe composed of bundles of brushwood which were held together in somemysterious manner, and appeared to lie on the water. The surface ofthe bridge was in very bad repair and, as some of the top bundles ofsticks were missing or pointing upwards at an angle, progress was veryslow; but, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling, I got along at quitea good pace. Once it seemed that I should have to swim a shortdistance, but I found it to be unnecessary, as only the top layer ofthe bundles was missing. Nearing the other side, I made out a factorybuilding of some sort, with a high chimney, a little way from the endof the bridge, and heard the occasional bark of a watch-dog. Try as Iwould, I could not move an inch without causing a number of sticks tocrackle loudly--it was almost as bad as crawling under the heap ofsticks the morning before. Fortunately the wind must have drowned anynoise made, or carried the sound away, for, though the dog continuedto bark intermittently, it cannot have been aware of my presence. 

Skirting the factory, I went across country, avoiding roads and houseslike poison. The land was very low and flat and the dykes verynumerous, sometimes whole fields being practically inundated. The onlythings that tended to relieve the monotony were the solitary gauntwillow trees, most of them mere shells of their former selves, whichstood out from the misty darkness, black and threatening, like grimsentinels. 

Everywhere was water, water, water. Every few seconds I was up to mywaist in it. Often I tried to jump a narrow dyke and misjudged thedistance, or got a bad "take off, " owing to the softness of theground; this usually resulted in my falling with a splash into themiddle. I think the most aggravating thing of all was to make a reallygood jump and land on the other side, just beyond the water-line, onall fours, only to find that I had not enough impetus to remain there, as the ground was sloping. Sometimes I was able to save myself byjabbing my stick into the ground, though, more often than not, thiswas impracticable, and my hands could find nothing firmer to catchhold of than a few tufts of grass, which almost invariably gave way, causing me to do a graceful but involuntary backward dive into thedyke. As constant exercise of this sort is very tiring and the weightof water contained in one's clothes greatly hinders freedom of action, my progress was necessarily rather slower than usual. A little aftermidnight the ground became harder, and I soon found myself once moreon a moor, wandering along a narrow sandy track, among deep heatherand broom bushes. Just as I was getting a little drier and it seemedas if the watery nightmare was over, I ran into a series of peat bogs, many of them more dangerous than those I had encountered my firstnight out. 

I found the best way to cross a narrow strip of marsh was to make arush to the firm ground, as these tactics did not allow enough timefor my feet to sink in very far. Once the little track I wascautiously following ended abruptly at the edge of a particularlywatery-looking bog, which not only barred my way in front, but alsocurved round on both flanks. In order to avoid this _cul-de-sac_ itwould have been necessary to make a wide detour, the accomplishment ofwhich would have involved the wasting of much valuable time. Selectinga point where this strip of marshy ground appeared to be thenarrowest, I retreated a few steps, gathered myself together, and, after a short run, attempted to take the bog by surprise and getacross before it was quite ready to receive me. Wallowing towards theother side, I felt my feet sinking deeply into the decayed peaty moss, which gurgled expectantly. I was almost over when suddenly, in asecond, I sank almost to my waist. Immediately throwing myself on myface, I scrambled forward, and digging my stick into the firm groundin front, pulled for all I was worth. I was almost free when my poorstick broke off with a resounding crack, leaving the top half in myhands. This I again drove into the firm ground, and with a finaleffort, drew myself out. After a short rest, during which I mournedthe loss of my beloved stick, I went on my way determined not to riska passage over any deceitful bogs in the future unless it wasabsolutely unavoidable. Very soon the heather became scarcer, and onceagain I was among dykes and flat, misty, green fields. 

For the next two or three hours I ploughed along towards the west, climbing over barbed-wire fences and wading through dykes, unless Iwas lucky enough to find a plank or small bridge spanning the latter. Scarcely perceptibly the darkness of the eastern sky changed to a dullcold grey and the landscape became clearer, revealing the baremotionless arms of several windmills stretching out into the clearerair, some distance away, in different directions. I roughly judgedthat I could not be far from the frontier. I might even have crossedit! Though I did my best to suppress undue optimism, this last ratherimprobable idea persisted in occupying my thoughts. It is true I hadseen nothing recently on the way to arouse suspicion, but, owing tothe marshy nature of the country, the guards might well be few and farbetween. The spirit of approaching dawn lent a faint tinge of colourto the lonely sweeps of white mist drifting slowly above the flat darkfields, and, settling down over the dykes, it commenced to unravel andpiece together the ghostly confusion of dim blurred shadows andgrossly exaggerated reflections crowding on the smooth, oily surfaceof the water, until they began to assume a definite shape. I couldalmost imagine that I was gazing at one of Tingue's early-morninglandscapes, so unmistakably Dutch was the scene. Having got thus farno speculations of any sort could be indulged in, the price ofuncertainty being too great. A distant village clock chimed four, eachbeat vibrating clearly in the still air. The crisis was at hand. Having successfully evaded capture during the eight preceding nightsand days, the very thought of failure was unbearable, and compelled meto face the eternal problem of seeking adequate cover for the day atan earlier hour than usual. I therefore commenced a search withoutdelay, experiencing the while, I am convinced, most of the alarmingsensations felt by many fat, juicy worms who, having lost theirburrows, are endeavouring to avoid contact with all marauding "earlybirds. " The first glance revealed not so much as a bush or hollowwillow tree in the immediate vicinity, but in a few minutes I made outa number of heaps of some sort away to the right, through thesemi-darkness, so went to make a closer inspection, only to find thattwo rather broader dykes than usual sought to bar the way. When on themarch a prolonged wetting is naturally most unpleasant, though thecontinued motion tends to dry one's clothes somewhat by shaking outmuch of the water. However, there being no alternative, I plunged intothe first dyke, which proved to be quite deep, making it againnecessary to swim a few strokes. I discovered a plank across thesecond one, and, passing over, found myself in a stubble field among anumber of corn stooks. There being no better cover, I realised that Imust hide in one of these little stacks, and chance my luck. Theproblem was to ascertain which part of the field was least likely tobe overrun by people and dogs. A short inspection showed it to be verylong and narrow, while several indications went to prove that the lastof the crop had been cut near my original point of entry into thefield; this was, therefore, the most desirable part to stay in, as itwould naturally be the last to be carried. When people walk through afield they are most liable to wander along near the edges, or gothrough near the middle; consequently I chose a stook situated betweenthe two, and about thirty yards distant from the end of the field. These heaps were rather too small to form a safe hiding-place, whilean unusually large one would, in all probability, attract attention. It is reasonable to suppose that, should a general enlargement beeffected embracing a number of stooks in one area, the result would behardly noticeable. Removing my pack and coat, I set to worktransporting two oat sheaves from each of the stooks in the next rowfor a length of about fifty yards, and adding them to the row in whichmy nest was planned to be. To avoid suspicion, I made the now depletedstooks up to their usual strength by again borrowing the same numberof sheaves from each of the heaps in the row still further beyond. After repeating this strenuous operation a number of times the desiredeffect was produced, most of the heaps in my corner of the field nowbeing considerably larger than the rest. Surely it was a good omenthat my fat sheaves had devoured many of their leaner brethren, eventhough the number was not restricted to seven, as in Pharaoh's dream. The value of making oneself as comfortable as possible under adverseconditions cannot be over-estimated, for it not only stimulates theinstinct of self-preservation, but renders one in the best conditionto face the task ahead. Exposure and fatigue gradually wear down one'spowers of resistance and bring with them the feeling that nothingmatters. This is to be avoided more than anything, for it introducesthe personal element into all reasonings, often forcing a decisionagainst one's better judgment. Having chosen my special heap, Iarranged it in such a way as to leave me as much room for movement aspossible in the centre. As I exchanged the wetter sheaves forcomparatively dry ones, the prospect of once again being warm wasdelightful and caused me to work with a will. Everything was almostcompleted, and I was just strewing a little dry straw on the groundbetween the sheaves, to serve as a mattress, when suddenly a man'svoice hailed me, in unmistakable German, from a distance of aboutfifty yards: "_Was machen sie da_?" ("What are you doing there?"). Anydoubts as to which country I was in were rudely dispelled. For amoment I was completely at a loss for an answer, then, bending down, Iseized the loose sheaf (which was to have acted as a door to mypalace) and placed it against the others, and, turning round, repliedin low German, "I am only replacing these, which have fallen down. "

Two workmen were standing just beyond the dyke, having evidentlyapproached by an unobserved track, and were now gazing suspiciously atme. There being no more prostrate sheaves, I could not very well throwsome down and then pick them up again, for the action would not havebeen at all convincing. I therefore had to content myself withsmoothing the side of the stook in a business-like way, trusting thatthe uncertain light would not disclose the insanity of my actions. Ina few seconds I moved to another stook, and was commencing to strokethe sheaves, when the same voices demanded, in a peremptory manner, toknow what I was really doing. It was a case of bluff, so, busyingmyself with the heap, I snapped out, "Ach! go away, I have a lot todo. " From the murmur that reached me it was obvious that this abruptanswer was puzzling them considerably. My position was still extremelyunsafe, for border folk are usually of a very suspicious nature, whichis intensified by the activities of war. At the best of times myexcuse would have been feeble enough. Ordinary people don't usuallyrise at four a. M. For the purpose of walking round a soaking fieldstroking sheaves of corn. Besides, it was not unlikely that I wastalking to the owner of the field. Whether they saw the brass buttonson my service jacket, or merely felt that I was wanted, I do not know, but they walked quickly towards the plank spanning the dyke whichdivided their field from mine. Directly they reached it one of themshouted something that I could not understand and was immediatelyanswered by a third person, away in the mist. Once across the plankthe men, after jabbering excitedly, came towards me at a quick run. Needless to say, it is extremely dangerous to be chased in barecountry of this sort just when the day is breaking and the fieldsrapidly filling with workers, for once the alarm is raised the resultis almost certain to mean capture. This time, however, it was not amatter of choice; my hand had been forced, compelling me reluctantlyto play my last card. Picking up my pack and coat, I ran as only oncebefore in my varied career--the night when I almost felt thepitchforks belonging to the little devils which chased me away fromStröhen camp. After running about a hundred yards, trusting to themist and uncertain light to partially screen my movements, I turnedaside and dived headlong into a stook, pulling the straw after me. Ina few seconds my pursuers drew level and, to my intense satisfaction, passed on, breathing heavily. This is the last I saw of these twoeager sons of the Fatherland. For all I know, they may be stillfollowing the excellent example afforded by "Charlie's Aunt. "

 CHAPTER XI

 HOLLAND

I was now in a small wet stook, very cold and hungry. It being toolight to risk a return journey to my carefully prepared nest, I had totake things as they were, and fell to wondering what it must feel liketo be in a nice warm bed. The day proved to be one long nightmare. Bycareful observation I saw that a number of girls were working on thesame crop, luckily at the other end of the field. They appeared onlyto be gleaning, but as it was quite likely this was preparatory to thecarting, I resolved to keep a very sharp look-out to avoid beingtransfixed by a pitchfork and hoisted on to a cart. Aboutbreakfast-time a peculiar noise came from somewhere quite close, so, parting the corn carefully, I peered out in that direction. There, tomy horror, were three men scything the rushes along a ditch whichpassed a few feet from me. The heap was a small one, and, therefore, to avoid detection, I endeavoured to put the best part of it betweenmyself and them when they were working the closest to me. Thecompletion of this operation naturally left me a little exposed onwhat I supposed to be my safe side. The men had almost passed, when Ihappened to look away from the ditch and saw a farmer standing besidethe very next heap to mine, surveying the crop, his hands in hispockets. Somehow or other I wriggled back unobserved, and layshivering with a combination of cold and fear. After half-an-hour'swait, I again looked out cautiously, and was relieved to find the mangone, though there seemed to be even more people in the neighbourhoodthan before. To add to my discomfort the breeze increased to quite astrong, piercing wind, which whistled in and out among thecorn-sheaves until I felt very like an ice-cream in a refrigerator. Even then there were more trials to come, for, not only did the grainpour itself into my clothes, eyes and ears, but also mixed with thecrop was a large proportion of barley or bearded wheat, which took atruly fiendish delight in slowly but relentlessly making its way up mysleeves or down my back. In this predicament it seemed almostunthinkable that I should ever have been so foolish in my schooldaysas to pick barley heads and deliberately put them a little way up mycoat-sleeves, the barbs downwards, expressly for the pleasure offeeling them crawling up my arms. Most of us do curious things in ouryouth!

Suffice it to say that, in spite of all convictions to the contrary, Iwas still in the heap, unmolested, when the afternoon resolved itselfinto evening and the labourers left for their homes. A little beforenine o'clock, after a short but drenching shower, I could stand it nolonger, so crawled out, damp and cold, but still almost glad to bealive. Looking towards the west in the fading light, I saw a largeshape moving slowly from left to right through the country, roughly acouple of miles away. It could only be a sail. With a sinking feelingI realised that in front lay at least one more canal which must becrossed. (This canal, I afterwards discovered, was actually inHolland. ) Although I did not feel desperately hungry, I somehow feltthat I was getting near the end of my tether; my food, also, wasdwindling and could not last more than two days at the outside, for Iwas already half-way through my emergency ration, a tin of Quakeroats. Strange to say, porridge is nothing like as nice eaten raw. 

As soon as it was dark I started out, resolved not only to beextremely cautious, but, at the same time, to get as far as possiblebefore the next day overtook me, time now threatening to form one ofmy most formidable adversaries. Travelling across country, I soon cameupon a long road bordered by trees, so hid in the edge of some beansto make sure that all was clear before venturing across it. Almostimmediately I heard voices not far distant, and presently a man on abicycle rode past. When everything was quiet again I managed to stepacross the road unobserved, feeling sure that another danger point waspast. The night being cold it may be imagined that I was scarcelyoverjoyed at finding it necessary to wade or swim through anothershort series of dykes; this was, however, the case. Drawing near tothe dreaded canal, I noticed that on either flank, some distance away, were clusters of rather brilliant lights. Presumably this pointed tothe fact that these lights were placed at points of specialimportance, such as strongly guarded bridges, in which case it seemedprobable that the canal might form part of the boundary line. In orderto avoid the slightest rustle which might attract attention, I rolledmy raincoat and secured it over one shoulder, "bandolier fashion. " Inext covered the brass buttons of my tunic with mud, to prevent theirreflecting the rays of a possible flashlight, and, after smearing somedirt on my face and hands, moved forward once more, prepared, in caseof discovery, to make a dash towards the west regardless of theconsequences. 

In a few minutes I saw, by the even line of the higher ground infront, that I had almost reached the raised canal, and was justpreparing to mount the short, grassy slope when I came upon ahard-worn narrow track running along near the edge of a rather widedyke, which separated me from the embankment. The dyke being in thelee of the wind it seemed advisable to ascertain whether it waspossible to cross by any plank or bridge which might be in thevicinity in preference to going through it, for, though one may beable to get into a dyke quietly enough, the getting out is a verydifferent matter when the sides are steep and one's clothes full ofwater. Walking along this path very warily for about twenty yards, Iwas lucky enough to discover a plank leading across (for except forthe faint silhouette of the top of the embankment against the sky, practically everything was hidden by the darkness). Though the plankbent threateningly I succeeded in crossing it, and crawled to the topof the rise. A glance revealed a broad, reed-fringed canal, reflectinglittle dancing lights on its wind-swept surface--the stars which hadthe audacity to peep out from between the clouds. I could hear thesplashings of a water-rat actually swimming at that time of night forthe fun of it! Quickly crossing the tow-path and parting the reeds, Ifollowed its example, and, not waiting to remove pack, clothing orshoes, swam towards the opposite bank as silently as possible. It canonly have been a few yards across, but I remember feeling almost astired as if I had swum the Channel. This was the tenth night of myescapade, and the strain was certainly beginning to tell. As I wasleaving the canal behind some wild duck rose from a dyke close by me, with much flapping of wings. If their desire was to frighten me theycertainly achieved their object. 

When, after an hour or more, I continued plodding along without seeinganything unusual, I could not help again wondering if I was still inGerman territory. My curiosity increased when two motor cycles withpowerful headlights went by on what appeared to be a main road. I hadnot seen anything like that for weeks, so resolved to go along theroad myself in the hope of seeing some other strange sights. Immediately on arriving there I had to take cover in a corner of anorchard to avoid another light, which was rapidly overtaking me. Fromthis point of vantage I was soon able to see that the light was on abicycle, and the rider not a tin soldier, complete with helmet andcurling moustache, but a peaceably dressed young woman. Encouraged bythe promising trend of events, I stole some apples and made my way, munching and shivering, towards a little group of houses, hoping todiscover some writing which might prove which country I was in. Eventually I found a letter-box and feverishly endeavoured todecipher, in the semi-darkness, a long word printed in black letterson a white background. With a sinking heart I slowly made out theletters B--R--I--E. Was it necessary to read any further? Surely thiswas proof positive that I was still under the gentle sway of theKaiser! What else could the remainder be but "fkasten, " completing theGerman word for letter-box. With almost a feeling of resignation, Icontinued to wrest the remaining letters from the darkness. Theexpected F was a very peculiar shape. No, it was a V, after all! Withevery letter my hopes rose as I spelt out the remaining E N B U S. Ido not profess to be a German scholar, but I do know that the word"BRIEVENBUS" does not adorn their letter-boxes in the ordinary courseof events. Feeling vaguely happy, but still haunted by the firstsyllable of the word, I made my way further into the village. At firstall seemed quiet, but presently I heard a couple talking near theentrance of a house. Creeping up as close as I dared in the deepshadow of the building, I strained my ears almost to dislocation tocatch a few words of the conversation. The language they were speakingstruck me as peculiarly ugly, and did not seem to lend itself readilyto the uses to which they were undoubtedly putting it. The fact thatthey were not speaking ordinary German did not necessarily mean thatthe language was Dutch, for it might have been some border dialect. However, I could restrain myself no longer, so, walking up to the man, I addressed him thus in German, with as much nonchalance as I couldcommand: "Can you tell me if I am in Germany or Holland?" He did notseem to grasp the question at once, which in itself was a good sign, though it lengthened my breathless suspense. I believe I wouldwillingly have murdered him if, by doing so, I could have had theanswer an instant sooner, for so much depended on it. All at once hestraightened himself up and, in a surprised voice, replied, "Holland!"

I should never have believed that one simple word could have meant somuch. The news so completely overwhelmed me that, for a few seconds, Ifailed to grasp its import. Then, springing forward, I seized andshook his hand so violently that it almost threatened to fall off, atthe same time showering explanations at him in a hundred and onedifferent languages, in the hope that he would understand one of them. Needless to say, at first the unfortunate Dutchman was ratherperturbed at being so cordially greeted by some one he must havethought to be a dangerous lunatic at large, though I consider that hestood the ordeal very well. I think the girl was the first to reallygrasp the situation, for, to my surprise, she congratulated me inbroken German, and insisted on shaking hands, too. In spite of thegood news I was still wet, cold and hungry, and the prospect of againsleeping in a warm bed was very alluring. I therefore inquired the wayto the nearest hotel, and was told to make for a larger village, somethree kilometres distant. I asked if there was any possibility of mytaking a wrong turn leading back into Hunland, and being assured therewas none if I followed the main road, started off in the best ofspirits. It was just like walking on air. My dreams of freedom had atlast come true. Though it was after one o'clock, I encountered severalpeople and each time inquired the way, thus making assurance doublysure. I can hardly attempt to describe the strange exultant feelingswhich surged through me as I marched along, conscious of having left"Brother Bosch" behind. 

Eventually, singing a marching song, I rounded a corner and foundmyself in a village street, almost opposite a house in front of whichhung a sign, just distinguishable in the darkness: "Hotel Van Dijk. "Regardless of the fact that I did not possess a cent, I proceeded toknock loudly on the front door. After a few minutes my efforts wererewarded by hearing an upstairs window open, and being told in Dutchto go away. However, my mind being made up, I persisted in making morenoise than ever. Seeing his protestations were in vain, and evidentlyscenting something unusual, I understood "mein Host" to say that hewould come down. My knowledge of the laws of internment of a neutralcountry being very limited, it behoved me to act with extreme cautionif I wished to follow in the footsteps of brother escapers, whom Iknew had preceded me to England. 

Though I had committed no act of war, such as crossing the frontiercarrying arms, I did not feel very sure of my ground. Therefore whenthe elderly innkeeper, holding a flickering candle, shot back thebolts, he found me wearing only a khaki shirt and grey flanneltrousers, the soaking raincoat and tunic having been hurriedlysecreted in my pack, so that he could not assert that I was in uniformwhen he first saw me, in case the subject should be raised later. Assoon as he heard the facts of the case, the Dutchman motioned me toaccompany him along the street, which I did wonderingly. I imaginedmyself shortly being interviewed by a fat, sleepy-eyed and pompousburgomaster, who would either fall upon my neck, or order me straightback to Germany. After half-an-hour's walk, when my guide haltedbeside a long wooden hut and knocked vigorously, I decided that therewas nothing to fear in that direction, for no such distinguishedperson would deign to live in so humble a residence. Presently, inanswer to our repeated efforts, we heard several grumbling voices, adoor was opened, and I was bidden to enter. As soon as I wasaccustomed to the glaring gas-light, I experienced a considerableshock. Occupying the whole length of the room in which I stood was adouble line of beds, mostly containing sleeping men, and from thewalls hung many greenish uniforms, rifles and bayonets! On recoveringfrom my first surprise, I turned to a fully dressed soldier I took tobe a sergeant, who by this time, presumably, understood that I was anescaped "Inglesman, " and asked him, in German, for an explanation. Inthe midst of his almost unintelligible reply I caught the word"_Grenswacht_" (frontier guard). Seeing that we were at crosspurposes, the sergeant roused a man who spoke very fair English andacted as interpreter. I soon learnt that I was in the localheadquarters of the Dutch Frontier Guard, and would have to remainthere until seen by an officer the next day. This suited me only toowell, so having duly impressed the fact that I was not in uniform, Iretired to a bed arranged for me in the N. C. O. 's room, and commencedto pull off my wet clothes. 

Meanwhile tongues had not been idle, and eager, curious faces began topeep at the "stray dog" through the half-open door. Just as I wasabout to turn in, curiosity could be restrained no longer; the roomfilled with noisy young fellows, who took up a position round my bedand proceeded to bombard me with questions. It was all so well meantthat I endeavoured to give them a brief outline of my doings, inGerman. The idea of an Englishman speaking German was evidently quitebeyond their comprehension, for, judging by many doubtful looks ofastonishment, it seemed that the general impression was that I was acamouflaged Hun. As they all persisted in talking at once, I put anend to the argument by disappearing under the bedclothes. About teno'clock the next morning I awoke, feeling stiffer than ever before, the slightest contraction of a muscle resembling the jerking of arusty wire. However, when a soldier, seeing that I was awake, broughtmy breakfast, I sat up with remarkable agility and devoured everycrumb. Never have I enjoyed a meal more. Every additional mouthful ofthe deliciously fresh Dutch cheese and new bread seemed to receive astill more exquisite taste when I thought of the Irish stew I hadmissed when standing behind my imitation wall at Ströhen. It was notuntil after a thoroughly good scrub and a cold bath that I could screwup enough courage to look at myself in a mirror, and, prepared as Iwas, the sudden reflection of the wild-eyed, bearded trampconsiderably surprised me. A little before lunch, having obtained somedry underclothing, I was sitting on my bed, extracting a selection ofbarbed wire and splinters from my hands with a large needle, when aDutch officer walked in to see the curiosity. He greeted me cordiallyin very good English, introducing himself as Lieutenant Hoffman, incharge of the local detachment of the Frontier Guard, and asked me tolunch with him at his hotel. 

On the way thither I could not help being very impressed by the designand beauty of the village. The houses were mostly large, withspacious, well-kept gardens, the streets clean and the generalatmosphere of the place spoke of great prosperity. Hoffman took me toa barber, who performed for a long time, but in the end turned out acomparatively respectable human being. At lunch I met another Dutchofficer, also an English scholar, who, after hearing the latter partof my experience, told me that I must have actually walked along theGerman sentry's path, just beyond the canal, the night before. Havinghad no escaped prisoners in that district before, they had adisquieting idea that I should very likely be interned. I learnt that, in all probability, I should proceed to a larger town for furtherexamination the following day, and gathered that, in the meantime, itwould be advisable for me to remain close to my headquarters andrefrain from wandering about by myself, the frontier being too closefor safety. 

Shortly after lunch the two officers entered the room, carrying acouple of sporting guns, and announced their intention of spending theafternoon at a canal on the frontier duck shooting, and said that Imight expect them back about tea-time. Being a prisoner no longer thevery thought of seeing grey-clad sentries standing at their postsappealed to me so much that I begged to be allowed to accompany them, deciding to run the small risk such a visit might entail. Hoffman wasconsiderably surprised at my proposal, but said I could come at my ownrisk if I thought I had known him long enough to be able to take hisword. He reminded me, at the same time, that one can easily step overa frontier line, intentionally or otherwise, and produced a loadedautomatic pistol from his coat pocket as if to back up his argument, asking me to choose my course of action. For a few seconds I reasonedwith myself and then accepted, it seeming perfectly obvious thatHoffman would never have shown his hand had he intended playing acrooked game. Just before starting the innkeeper lent me a civiliancap and overcoat, which gave me a sense of security and enabled me toset out with the others if not a perfect, at any rate a passableDutchman. 

Presently we arrived at a bridge-head, where the Dutch guard turnedout and saluted, when, it must be confessed, I felt a trifle nervous, being then almost on the frontier. The formalities over, we left ourbicycles in the guardroom and, crossing the bridge, proceeded alongthe tow-path at the side of the canal. There, sure enough, were thegrey-clad sentries, standing near their boxes along a little raisedpath, at intervals varying from one to two hundred yards. Seeing thatour presence seemed to occasion considerable interest on the part ofthe sentries, I inquired the reason from one of my companions, and wasinformed that only persons in the company of Dutch officers wereallowed where we were walking, in the neutral zone dividing the twocountries. Curiously enough the water dog, whose duty it was to startthe birds from among the reeds, was English and went by the name of"Tom. " Fortunately he was very obedient, for had he once crossedbetween the extenuated lines of grey men Tom would have afforded theHuns some moving target practice, which in all probability would haveresulted in his contributing to a sausage machine. I am sure I do notknow what I should have done if this had happened while I was with theparty, for Tom, when feeling lonely, used to run straight up to me, wagging his stumpy tail and looking up with eyes which so plainly saidthat he was indeed glad to meet a fellow-countryman, for, thoughDutchmen were kind enough to him, the scent was somewhat different. 

Towards the end of the afternoon we came to a place where the frontierline gradually converged, running parallel to, and about twenty-fiveyards away from, the canal, just the other side of a dyke at thebottom of the embankment. It must have been somewhere here that anunseen hand had unconsciously guided me to safety through the darknessof the night before. I selected a particularly Hunnish-looking sentry, who was standing beside a painted black and white box, with a long, wicked-looking and old-patterned bayonet gleaming above his slungrifle, and, hailing him casually, remarked that it must be weary workdoing nothing, and inquired if he was tired of the war, to which hereplied with a sullen "_Ja_. " Undismayed by his dismal expression, Iinquired if they ever had any escaped prisoners in those parts. Thistime he did not deign to answer, but merely shook his head solemnly. By removing my coat I could have easily disillusioned him, but, remembering that a rifle bullet is not a thing to be trifled with, Irefrained. 

Feeling my triumph complete, I turned and limped away, still hardlyable to realise that only a few hours before I had unknowingly paradedalong the same little raised path which the Germans were so jealouslyguarding. Of all my escapes this was the most inexplicable. To whatwas it due? Certainly not to my own initiative alone. Man's extremityis indeed God's opportunity. 

 * * * * *

Supreme in the world of red tape, far above the ken of misguidedmortals, lives an omnipotent being--the Censor. In imagination, hesits in a huge armchair, wreathed in tobacco smoke, casually sorting, from piles of manuscript, the sheep from the goats. The former aredestined to be smothered in official stamps and coloured inks, whilethe latter are cast ignominiously into the gigantic waste-paperbasket. Though this little sheep, in particular, may have a little ofits wool shorn off, I trust that it may eventually avoid the rubbishheap. For this reason I must ask the reader to be contented with avery curtailed and disjointed account of the remainder of mywanderings. 

 * * * * *

In due course I was placed in a quarantine camp, to remain there untila given number of days should elapse, when, on being pronounced freefrom infection, I should be allowed to continue my journey throughHolland. The camp contained a number of German deserters who, itappeared, crossed the frontier in this district at the average rate ofone per diem, having for the most part arrived direct from the front, with every intention of leaving their beloved "_Vaterland_" behind forever. They made no secret of the fact that they hoped to be able toemigrate to England or America as soon as it was all over. Several ofthem were N. C. O. 's, wearing the black and white ribbon of the IronCross, to all appearances good soldiers whom their relentless systemhad forced to desertion rather than the terror of the British guns. The Germans occupied a separate hut, and were kept strictly tothemselves. This probably saved a lot of trouble, for, judging by thespirited way they occasionally sang "_Deutschland, Deutschland überalles_, " accompanied by an accordion, the spirit of patriotism andsavage "kultur" still flowed in their veins. Doubtless the firstGerman band to return to England will be composed of the most gentlepeace and beer-loving Huns that ever visited our favoured shores. Whatever the nature of the welcome and guarantees extended to them byour English "Bolsheviks" (who even now have the audacity to advocate apolicy of "shake and be friends"), their lives will not be at allsecure when they come in contact, as they ultimately must, withBritishers who have been most brutally treated and forced to work asprisoners in the German salt mines, men who have come to know thetruth of the saying, "Once a Bosch, always a Bosch, " during their stayof several years in Hunland. I feel genuinely sorry for the very fewreally nice Germans who certainly do exist (several of whom I metduring my captivity). However, considering that their influence hasbeen practically _nil_ in the War, on account of their being in such aminority, I suppose they will be bound to suffer with the rest. 

The number of escaped French and Russian soldiers was surprising. However they must have had many excellent opportunities, whileworking in the fields near the frontier, to cross the dividing line. It did not take me long to discover three British privates, who weredistinctly bored and very pleased to see me. The eldest was a SouthAfrican, escaped from a reprisal camp, while the other two belonged tothe Warwicks. Though little more than boys they had in all probabilityseen more of the hardships of life than many men of treble their age. Great excitement prevailed when, by dint of much cajoling, I managedto procure a mandoline from the town, for, though the meals were verymuch looked forward to and enjoyed, the rest of the time passed veryslowly. It is not easy to play tunes to satisfy the cravings ofdifferent nationalities at a moment's notice. A few Russians flungthemselves about to the lilt of some of their rowdiest cake-walks, while the "Marseillaise, " seeming a universal favourite, wasrepeatedly called for. On the morning of the fourth day threeweird-looking figures, wearing a queer mixture of ready-made Dutchgarments, entered the camp with a guard. I could scarcely believe myeyes when I recognised some of my former companions at Ströhen. Two ofthem, Captain Harrison, of the Royal Irish, and Lieutenant C. F. Templar, 1st Gloucesters (since then, I regret to say, killed inaction), were "old Contemptibles, " having been captured about thebeginning of the War, while the third, Lieutenant J. Insall, V. C. , R. F. C. , had been in captivity two years. They had all made manyprevious attempts to escape, and consequently had sampled many Germanprisons, and now at last succeeded. Captain Harrison, I have sinceheard, was again captured, during the German advance in the spring of'18, but was fortunately able to regain our lines the same night. Ourdelight at meeting again outside Germany was mutual, and, having somany notes to exchange, the time then passed much more rapidly. Aftervarious communications with the British authorities, we weresuccessful at last in getting in touch with the British Minister atthe Hague, who almost immediately obtained our release from thequarantine camp, to the unbounded astonishment of the local Dutchmagnates. 

 * * * * *

Receiving an invitation to visit Sir Walter Townley (BritishMinister), I proceeded to the Hague, freed at last from the annoyingformality of being continually escorted by an officer or guard. Imagine my pleasure at once more sitting down to afternoon tea in anEnglish drawing-room. I shall never forget the kind thought andsolicitude of my hostess, Lady Susan. I almost seemed to be inEngland. 

Before catching my train back, I engaged a taxi and tried to see asmuch of the town as possible in the time. The driver understood butlittle of my directions; the sight, however, of a few _guldens_ causedhim to drive so recklessly that I thought my last hour had come. Itseemed that we must be leaving the path strewn with luckless victims. Arriving at the Palace of Peace, where the nations had sounsuccessfully beguiled each other with "smooth words, softer thanhoney, " I succeeded in inducing my charioteer to come to a standstill. Alighting, a policeman informed me that the building had just beenclosed, but pointed out the highly ornamental metal gates, which, atthe cost of 40, 000 marks, had been presented by the Kaiser Wilhelm afew years before the War. Espying on them angels of peace carryingpalm branches, I could contain myself no longer, so delivered animpassioned harangue to the astonished Dutchman on the subject ofhypocrisy, in a mixture of German, French and Dutch. Presently, seeinga large crowd gathering around us, I concluded my remarks with asubstantial tip, and signalling to "Mynheer Mercury, " was once morewhirled into space. 

 * * * * *

The convoy, in formation, steamed through the neutral waters towardsthe open sea. On board were a party of women and children, proceedingfrom Germany to England for repatriation. Several of them must havebeen in Germany an exceedingly long time, for they could only speakbroken English, while some of the children, having evidently been bornthere, could speak no English at all. Soon the ship began to rollgently in response to the ever-increasing swell. As the White Ensignfluttered happily from the stern, most of us took advantage of thestill comparatively calm sea by parading along the deck in companywith a British commodore, confidently straining our eyes to catch afirst glimpse of the approaching escort; and it was, unfortunately, obvious that every one on board did not share our good spirits. As thedisconcerting movements of the ship increased, the Anglo-Germanelement, pale-faced and dejected, assembled amidships, and forming asmall, huddled group, hastily commenced to put on their cork jacketsand life-belts, evidently preparing for the expected impact of thedreaded torpedo. Just then, as the look-out, attracted by some specksof foam emerging from the grey, misty horizon, signalled that a numberof ships were fast approaching, they could stand the strain no longer, so, breaking into a weird German chant, they wailed disconsolately. Could it be that the victorious German fleet, of which they had sooften heard, was at this very moment bearing down upon us? Perish thethought! The specks of white grew larger with alarming rapidity. Itwas not until the British destroyer flotilla was almost on us that wecould discern, behind each dividing mass of curving foam, the sinisterand capable grey shapes of Britannia's watch-dogs moving swiftly, inperfect harmony with sea and sky. As if inspired by one mind, ourguardians turned about, and silently taking up their respectivepositions at a reduced speed, they passed with us safely along theKing's Highway!

 THE WHITEFRIARS PRESS, LTD. , LONDON AND TONBRIDGE. 

 PHILIP GIBBS ON THE WAR IN FLANDERS

 I. The Battles of the Somme 6/- net

 II. From Bapaume to Passchendaele 6/- net

 III. Open Warfare 10/6 net

 London: Wm. Heinemann, 21 Bedford St. 

 _OTHER RECENT VOLUMES_

THE SWORD OF DEBORAH. By F. Tennyson Jesse. F'cap 8vo. 3/- net

A woman's account of woman's work inFrance. 

THE LOVERS. By ElizabethRobins Pennell. F'cap 8vo. 2/6 net

A true love story of the war. 

A DIARY WITHOUT DATES. By Enid Bagnold. F'cap 8vo. 2/6 net

"Here is a book that will live on. "--_MorningPost. _

 London: Wm. Heinemann, Bedford St. 

 Transcriber's Notes

The list of other volumes in the collection has been moved from thefront of the book to the end. 

Obvious typographical errors have been fixed. See the list below fordetails. The original errata in the book has been included. 

 Issues fixed:

page 5--typo fixed: changed 'stacatto' to 'staccato'page 25--errata typo fixed: changed 'weis' to 'weiss'page 32--spelling normalized: changed 'guard-room' to 'guardroom'page 43--errata typo fixed: changed 'balolaika' to 'balalaika'page 47--errata typo fixed: changed 'Weiswein' to 'Weisswein'page 51--errata typo fixed: changed 'Hammelin' to 'Hameln'page 55--errata typo fixed: changed 'Weiswein' to 'Weisswein'page 75--typo fixed: changed 'Middlesessex' to 'Middlesex'page 103--spelling normalized: changed 'gaolbirds' to 'gaol-birds'page 111--spelling normalized: changed 'bathroom' to 'bath-room'page 126--typo fixed: changed 'Pupchen' to 'Püppchen'page 127--typo fixed: changed 'farmhouse' to 'farm-house'page 152--typo fixed: changed 'Strohen' to 'Ströhen'page 159--errata typo fixed: changed 'feasten' to 'fkasten'page 165--typo fixed: changed 'Strohen' to 'Ströhen'page 167--spelling normalized: changed 'guard-room' to 'guardroom'page 171--typo fixed: changed 'uber' to 'über'page 172--typo fixed: changed 'Strohen' to 'Ströhen'