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 MENU OF FAREWELL DINNER, LAZARETT VI 
 
GERMAN AERIAL PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN JUNE 3RD, I916, AT HEIGHT OF 7,500 FEET 
 OF SECTION OF TRENCHES IN SANCTUARY WOOD, SHOWING THE RESULTS OF 
 THE BOMBARDMENT OF JUNE 2ND. AT V ARE THE GERMAN FRONT 
 LINE TRENCHES, AND AT Y ARE THE BRITISH FRONT LINE 
 TRENCHES. THIS PHOTOGRAPH WAS FOUND AMONG THE 
 EFFECTS OF A CAPTURED GERMAN OFFICER 
 
LIEUT. DOUGLAS TRAMPING IN SWITZERLAND AND WEARING 
 "SHORTS" USED IN HOT WEATHER AT THE FRONT. 
 
CAPTURED 
 
 SIXTEEN MONTHS AS 
 A PRISONER OF WAR 
 
 By LIEUT. J. HARVEY DOUGLAS 
 
 Illustrated with Photographs 
 by the Author 
 
 NEW YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 

 *r 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1918 
 BY GBORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
 MAR 30 1918 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY 
 J. HABVEY DOUGLAS 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 
 
 ©CLA49275"2 
 
 <Us<0 j 
 
TO 
 
 MY FATHER, MOTHER AND SISTER 
 
 WHO, ALTHOUGH BURDENED WITH ANOTHER 
 
 SORROW, DID EVERYTHING IN THEIR 
 
 POWER TO MAKE MY LIFE AS A 
 
 PRISONER OF WAR AS BRIGHT 
 
 AND CHEERFUL AS WAS 
 
 POSSIBLE UNDER THE 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES, 
 
 THIS BOOK IS 
 
 DEDICATED. 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 At the time of my return to Canada I had abso- 
 lutely no intention of writing a book on my ex- 
 periences as a Prisoner of War, and laughed when 
 the idea was first suggested to me. My friends 
 showed such keen interest, however, in what hap- 
 pened to me during the time I was mourned as 
 dead and afterwards, when my first letter home re- 
 stored me to life, that, to prevent repeatedly living 
 over again many experiences which I would much 
 rather forget, I have written this book. 
 
 Many Canadian families are sitting at home 
 wondering under what circumstances one or more 
 of their loved ones are living while Prisoners of 
 War, and a few American families are already do- 
 ing the same thing. Unfortunately it is very likely 
 that this unhappy list will be added to as the war 
 progresses. I trust that my attempt at the por- 
 trayal of the life of a Prisoner of War may in 
 some way relieve the minds of the perplexed friends 
 and relatives in that it tells them many things, 
 which I was surprised to learn, are not already 
 known. Of course, it must be understood that no 
 two prisoners have exactly the same experiences — 
 would that they could all have my good fortune! 
 
 vii 
 
viii FOREWORD 
 
 But, many of them are living, or will live, under 
 circumstances similar to those under which I 
 passed sixteen long months. 
 
 It is the Prussian spirit of militarism which is 
 responsible for most of the brutality, and, until 
 it is stamped out, there will never be peace in 
 any part of the globe. If I succeed in these pages 
 in arousing the minds of many people to the reali- 
 sation of the fact that, owing to this spirit of mili- 
 tarism, our Prisoners of War have suffered hard- 
 ships to the like of which no human being should 
 ever be subjected, and that, even to-day, their treat- 
 ment is often far from humane, I will feel that my 
 efforts have not been in vain. 
 
 I never wrote a book before in my life and in 
 fact this one was not written, but, for the most 
 part, dictated. I have not attempted to make it a 
 work of art in the literary world — such a thing 
 would be impossible for me ; but I have attempted 
 to give a plain, straightforward statement of abso- 
 lute facts : I have not even used fictitious names. 
 
 I trust that nothing I have said will in any way 
 make the life of my friends, who are still in Ger- 
 many, even more hard, but rather, that any influ- 
 ence this book may have will speed the day when 
 a more free and generous exchange of Prisoners of 
 War can be arranged between belligerent nations. 
 
 J. H. D. 
 
 Toronto, Dec. 4, 1917. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I Our Last Trip In ...... 17 
 
 II The Day Before ....... 22 
 
 III June 2nd . ....... 27 
 
 IV Captured ... . . . . .41 
 
 V Through Belgium to Germany . . 47 
 
 VI Lazarett VI 62 
 
 VII Hospital Life Begins 72 
 
 VIII Sunshine and Shadow 83 
 
 IX Making the Best of It .... . 95 
 
 X Privileges, Etc . 108 
 
 XI Luxury Under Difficulties . . . .116 
 
 XII Alone 128 
 
 XIII The French Captain . . . ... . 136 
 
 XIV Constance ........ 144 
 
 XV Switzerland at Last ..... 157 
 
 XVI Miirren 163 
 
 XVII Lausanne . 172 
 
 XVIII Back to Miirren — Repatriation . . 177 
 
 XIX Home 191 
 
 lx 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 Lieut. J. Harvey Douglas .... Frontispiece" 
 
 PAGE 
 
 / 
 
 Lazarett VI, Cologne 64 
 
 French and Russian Prisoners at Lazarett VI 64 y 
 
 Group of British Prisoners and Orderlies at 
 
 Lazarett VI 74" 
 
 Funeral of Captain Birt ....... 74" 
 
 Funeral of Captain Birt 92 
 
 Camp Money Issued by the Various Prison 
 
 Camps 100' 
 
 Rings Made by Prisoners 100 
 
 Mckel Coin in Use Before War and War Issue 
 
 of Same Value Made of Iron .... 100 ' 
 
 Four Cheerful British Prisoners .... 118 
 
 Lieut. Douglas, the French Captain and Lieut. 
 
 Barnes 140 
 
 Murren, Switzerland . 158 
 
 Murren Military Printing Office .... 166' 
 
 Carpenter's Shop 166" 
 
 Murren Variety Entertainment Company . . 174 
 
 The Wedding of Lieut. Hedges 182 v 
 
 Departure of Repatriated Prisoners . . . 188 
 
 Reunion of Tommies with Their Wives and 
 
 Mothers in Switzerland 188 
 
 xi 
 
CAPTURED 
 
CAPTURED 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 Our Last Trip In 
 
 " All present and correct, sir," reported the Com- 
 pany Sergeant-Major of " A " Company, 4th Cana- 
 dian Mounted Rifles, as the officers came on parade 
 for what was to be the last time. We were quite 
 proud of our company because we had just received 
 a reinforcing draft of 40 men which brought our 
 numbers up to about 120 — slightly over one-half 
 the number we should have had. But in those days 
 men were not as plentiful as they are now. We had 
 to get along somehow. 
 
 Every man was carefully inspected to see that he 
 had his steel helmet, two gas masks and his iron ra- 
 tions. The latter consisted chiefly of a tin of bully 
 beef and some hard biscuits. These were most nec- 
 essary, as we never knew when the Germans might 
 attempt a flank movement at the base of the Ypres 
 salient, and if this were successful those of us who 
 were at the nose of the salient might have to subsist 
 for two or three days on our iron rations until a way 
 could be cut through again. That tin of bully beef 
 
 17 
 
18 CAPTURED 
 
 struck the men as being a piece of useless and very 
 heavy furniture which it was advisable to " ditch " 
 if possible. 
 
 It was just getting dusk as the inspection was 
 completed. Every man hitched his pack up into a 
 comfortable position on his back, gave a final tug at 
 his belt and in a few minutes we were off on that 
 long journey of seven miles, past Vlamertinghe and 
 Ypres, right up the salient to the front line. Every 
 man looked as though he were just going back to 
 work after his summer holidays. We had had an 
 eight- day rest and we were now going in to do a 
 sixteen-day tour. 
 
 The 4th C. M. R. were taking over a new part of 
 the line. They were usually in Sanctuary Wood in 
 the trenches which ran south from the gap at Hooge, 
 commencing at the Appendix, and ending about op- 
 posite the Bird Cage, that famous concrete snipers' 
 post in the German lines which seemed to laugh at 
 our artillery and continued to take its daily toll 
 among our men. 
 
 But on the night of May 31st, 1916, we were going 
 into trenches which ran in a southwesterly direction 
 in front of Observatory Ridge and Armagh Wood. 
 The right of our line was about 500 yards from 
 Hill 60 and rested on a short gap which separated 
 us from the Second Division. We had the good for- 
 tune for the first time in ages to be loaded on a train 
 
 that sneaked up as far as without a light. 
 
 Here we detrained and, after some marching, 
 
OUR LAST TRIP IN 19 
 
 reached Shrapnel Corner where we turned east 
 towards Zillebeke. At Transport Farm, to the 
 south of Zillebeke Lake, we were met by the guides 
 of the 7th Battalion from whom we were taking 
 over. From this point each company advanced 
 separately with its own guides. The night was 
 dark, illumined only by the flares from the front 
 line which swept in a large semi-circle to right and 
 left. The flares threw into relief the broken and 
 twisted stumps of trees and the uneven sand -bag 
 parapets of the trenches. The night was very still 
 except for the occasional crash of a hand grenade 
 or the crack of a rifle. 
 
 We moved along the open road until the rising 
 ground brought us in line with some of the lead from 
 one of Fritz's " typewriters " which was traversing 
 that part of the scenery. We " flopped " in the 
 ditch a couple of times and then turned to the left 
 between Observatory Ridge and Maple Copse. 
 Shortly after this we entered the communication 
 trench which took us to the front line. 
 
 The ordinary trench is narrow enough for a man 
 wearing full equipment, but when a relief is going 
 on the trench is filled with men loaded down like 
 pack mules, waiting to go out as soon as the relief 
 is completed. We bumped and squeezed our way 
 along to the accompaniment of many ejaculations 
 never heard in Sunday School. At length we came 
 to the section of trench we were to occupy. It was 
 on the extreme right of the Third Division. 
 
20 CAPTURED 
 
 During the day Lt.-Col. Ussher, accompanied by 
 his adjutant, Capt. Symons, and all the company 
 commanders, had gone over the whole line and each 
 knew thoroughly the peculiarities of the parts of the 
 line with which he had most to do. A non-com- 
 missioned officer from each company, the machine 
 gun section, etc., had also gone in ahead to take over 
 trench stores — a supply of such articles as shovels, 
 rubber boots, wiring gloves, ammunition, hand 
 grenades, etc. Thus everything was in readiness 
 for a quick relief when we arrived. 
 
 In our part of the line we were met by our com- 
 pany commander, Lieut. Cockshutt, and our Com- 
 pany Sergeant-Major who superintended the dis- 
 tribution of the men and arranged reliefs for each 
 sentry post. Each man was shown his alarm post, 
 and at these particular points every man " stood 
 to " while the relief was going on. At length the 
 message " Relief Completed " was passed down the 
 line, and the men of the 7th Battalion heaved a sigh 
 of satisfaction and left the trenches. After a final 
 inspection by the company commander, the order 
 " Stand Down " was given and all but the sentries 
 on duty, the trench officer, and trench non-commis- 
 sioned officer, sought out a spot in a dug-out, or 
 a hole in the side of the support trench, in which to 
 stretch their weary legs. 
 
 Our home, which was known as an elephant dug- 
 out, was about eight feet square, and was roofed 
 over with very heavy corrugated steel in the form of 
 
OUR LAST TRIP IN 21 
 
 an arch, each corrugation being about eight inches 
 broad. This steel roof was very strong and served 
 to support a large amount of earth and sandbags 
 covered over with a detonating layer of broken 
 rock, so that in case of a direct hit the shell would 
 explode on the outside rather than the inside of the 
 dug-out. The door consisted of a wooden frame 
 sunk in the wall of sandbags which closed the en- 
 trance. At the top hung a blanket soaked in 
 chemicals and rolled up in a convenient position 
 to be dropped to close the door in case of a gas 
 attack. Inside there was just room to stand up. 
 There were two beds made of wire netting stretched 
 over a wooden frame. In the centre was a small 
 rough table where we did all our work and ate our 
 meals, sitting on the edge of the beds. It was the 
 first time we had had such a good dug-out, and we 
 took great pride in hanging up our equipment on 
 nails driven into the sandbags w'hich closed up the 
 far end of the arch. There was plenty of room, as 
 on this last tour in the trenches there were only 
 three officers in " A " Company, Lieut. Cockshutt, 
 Lieut. Wells and myself. One was always on duty, 
 so that the other two could each occupy a bed and 
 snatch a little very necessary sleep. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 The Day Before 
 
 The morning of June 1st broke bright and clear. 
 Those of us who were off duty spent our time in 
 a thorough inspection of the new trenches which 
 were excellently built. They were very dry and 
 had more head cover than the old trenches up in 
 Sanctuary Wood. The fire step was square and 
 solid and not crumbling away as in many of the 
 other trenches we had taken over. The general 
 system consisted of two lines about twenty-five 
 yards apart — the front line contained the fire bays 
 separated by heavy traverses to localise the effect 
 of a direct hit; the second line contained all the 
 dug-outs, and it was here that the men remained 
 when not actively on duty in the front line. Three 
 communicating trenches joined these two lines on 
 our company frontage. The second line was a more 
 or less straight trench without any bays or fire 
 steps, and was really used as a communication 
 trench to move the men from one part of the front 
 line to another without the necessity of their pass- 
 ing along the front line. The brigade machine gun 
 company had its guns mounted in excellent em- 
 placements commanding our front, and also the gap 
 
 22 
 
THE DAY BEFORE 23 
 
 on our right which separated us from the Second 
 Division and which was patrolled only at night. 
 
 While investigating these machine gun emplace- 
 ments I discovered Lieut. A. W. Sirae, of the 8th 
 Brigade Machine Gun Company, who had formerly 
 been with me in the 35th Battalion. This was the 
 first time we had met since leaving England, and 
 we had many things to talk about. We sat down 
 in a sunny spot of the trench, propped our backs 
 against the parados, filled our pipes and enjoyed 
 a pleasant half hour. The day was very quiet. 
 Nothing disturbed us except an occasional salvo of 
 whiz-bangs, which are as harmless as a bottle of 
 milk if you stand flat against the front face of the 
 trench. They are very annoying, however, if you 
 are trying to snatch a little sleep in your dug-out. 
 
 Talking of sleep reminds me of an incident which 
 happened one time when we were in the old trenches 
 at the Appendix. The officers' dug-out consisted 
 of a fire bay roofed over with a piece of corrugated 
 galvanised iron, sprinkled with about two inches of 
 dirt. The parapet, which was our only protection 
 from frontal fire, was hardly bullet proof. The 
 roof leaked like a sieve and one of Fritz's grenades, 
 thrown into No Man's Land, shook so much dirt 
 down on your face that you imagined you had swal- 
 lowed a potato patch. 
 
 One of our officers had just entered this palatial 
 residence one day and stretched himself out for a 
 short siesta on a downy couch consisting of a few 
 
24 CAPTUKED 
 
 empty sand bags laid on the hard earth fire step, 
 which was about one and a half feet wide, when 
 Fritz decided to throw over a few "beer kegs" 
 (Minnenwerfers). We got forty of them in about 
 twenty minutes. The last one landed plumb in the 
 centre of the trench just beside the officers' dug- 
 out. It made a hole about twenty feet across, 
 twelve feet deep, and buried three of our men alive. 
 We eventually managed to dig them out, however, 
 unwounded but shell-shocked. It was at this mo- 
 ment that the officer, who had gone blissfully to 
 sleep, emerged from the so-called dug-out, rubbed 
 his eyes and muttered : " Say, boys, what's going 
 on? I thought I heard something." He was the 
 soundest sleeper I ever knew. 
 
 About sunset one of our observation balloons 
 broke loose and started to drift over the German 
 lines. The occupants had descended in their para- 
 chute, and our "Archies" (anti-aircraft guns) 
 were doing their best to destroy it before it landed 
 in German territory. The Germans, thinking it 
 might still be occupied, also shelled it. There must 
 have been thousands of rounds of ammunition ex- 
 pended on this one balloon. The sky was white 
 with puffs of smoke. Just as it disappeared from 
 view we saw a German aeroplane go up and finish 
 it off. 
 
 After supper I was sitting in the dug-out writing 
 home by the light of a flickering candle, when I 
 was informed that there was a corporal outside 
 
THE DAY BEFORE 25 
 
 who wanted to see me. He turned out to be Bom- 
 bardier " Chuck " Gibson who was with the sixty- 
 pound " Tock Emma " (Trench Mortar) Battery lo- 
 cated on our frontage. We had a long talk over 
 the games of bowls he, Ken Douglas, Howard 
 Brown, Doug. Addison and I used to have in To- 
 ronto. All these boys were either in England or 
 France. " Chuck " promised to bring Howard 
 Brown, who happened also to be in the front line 
 with the " Tock Emmas/' over to see me the next 
 day. He told me of a " strafe " they were putting 
 on next morning about 8.30 and I promised to go 
 over and observe for them. Unfortunately, this 
 little party never came off. The next day I w T as 
 so busy I never saw " Chuck." He was killed at 
 his gun, which fired until it was knocked out. 
 Howard Brown was taken prisoner. 
 
 We all seemed in a reminiscent mood that eve- 
 ning. Harvey Cockshutt and I spent a pleasant 
 hour, after " Chuck " left, discussing our plans for 
 after the war. This is the most cheering thing one 
 can do when in the trenches, and, outside of the 
 business of killing Huns, is the favourite talk 
 amongst the soldiers. Poor old Harvey's dreams 
 were never to be realised. He, too, died doing his 
 duty like the brave fellow that he was. It was 
 recognised throughout the 4th C. M. R. that he was 
 one of our finest officers. 
 
 At 11 P. M. that night, when I was on duty and 
 patrolling the trench, I noticed that a whiz-bang 
 
26 CAPTURED 
 
 had set fire to the dried sand bags on the top of 
 one of the dug-outs. I considered that the occu- 
 pants had a personal interest in this little affair 
 so I aroused them and we got to work with shovels. 
 Fritz thought we were celebrating Guy Fawkes' 
 night a little early in the season and decided to 
 break up the party with machine gun fire. How- 
 ever, we managed to extinguish the flames without 
 any casualties. 
 
 At 12 o'clock I woke the officer who was to go 
 on duty after me and lay down to sleep until 4 
 o'clock. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 June 2nd 
 
 At 4 a. M., June 2nd, 1916, 1 went on duty again. 
 Dawn was preparing to break and we all stood to 
 in the front line. Just before dawn was the fa- 
 vourite time for the Boches to pull off a surprise 
 attack, but we were always ready for them. We 
 remained on guard till it was quite daylight and 
 then, as trench officer, it was my duty to issue the 
 rum. A little of this "fire water" is the finest 
 thing in the world when you are chilled through 
 after a long night spent in your clothes. It wards 
 off many a cold and starts the blood circulating 
 freely again. The only other way this could be 
 accomplished would be by exercise. Anyone was 
 welcome to go out in. No Man's Land for an early 
 morning run, but this alternative was not popular, 
 it being undoubtedly a more or less unhealthy form 
 of sport. 
 
 When the rum issue was completed, "Stand 
 Down" was given. Everything was running 
 smoothly. The sentries on duty gazed steadfastly 
 through their periscopes and the runners sat or 
 lay, always within kicking distance of the sentry, 
 so as to be able to warn the occupants of that par- 
 ticular fire bay in case of an attack. The other 
 
 27 
 
28 CAPTURED 
 
 men busied themselves tidying up the trenches in 
 preparation for the inspection by the Divisional 
 Commander, General Mercer, and our Brigadier, 
 General Williams, which was to take place that 
 morning. A large party had been working all 
 night repairing a gap in the parapet blown in by 
 a Minnenwerfer and which we had to pass on the 
 run to avoid being sniped from Hill 60. Another 
 day party was busy filling sandbags under cover, 
 in preparation for further work next night. I 
 spent some time with my Platoon Sergeant com- 
 pleting in my roll book the details regarding 
 the new men who had been attached to my pla- 
 toon. 
 
 At 6 o'clock I went off duty, entered the dug-out, 
 slipped off my equipment, put my steel helmet on 
 the table and settled down for an hour or two of 
 sleep. At 6.30 I was up again to see Col. Ussher 
 and Capt. Jack Symons who had come to make a 
 preparatory inspection of the trenches. As they 
 went away I bade good-bye, for the last time, to 
 Jack, who was my brother-in-law. 
 
 At a few minutes to 8 o'clock breakfast was an- 
 nounced and our " batman " came in from the lit- 
 tle cookhouse in the dug-out across the trench, 
 bearing a large tin plate of beautiful fried eggs 
 and bacon and some prunes. This, with the addi- 
 tion of a little coffee, was the excellent meal we 
 were just about to taste when — crash ! Hell was 
 let loose. Shells of all sizes came hurtling through 
 
JUNE 2nd 29 
 
 the air, raining in on us from all sides. We 
 slipped on our steel helmets, left that lovely break- 
 fast and rushed outside to see how serious the 
 show might be. We had suffered heavy bombard- 
 ments before but we at once saw that this was the 
 biggest we had ever been in. Harvey Cockshutt, 
 always thinking of the men, issued the order to 
 take every one into the front line, where he de- 
 cided the bombardment was not quite so heavy. 
 In a few seconds every man was lining the fire 
 trench. The shells continued to rain in on us 
 from every direction. The Boches, as we found 
 out later, had turned every gun around the Ypres 
 salient on the frontage occupied by the 3rd Can- 
 adian Division. We received almost as many 
 shells from the rear flanks, as we did from the 
 front. These, of course, we could not alwavs see 
 coming, but wherever we looked towards the Ger- 
 man lines we could see " Minnies " rolling over and 
 over in the air on their way to greet us. These 
 were quite easy to dodge when they came one at 
 a time. All you had to do was to watch where 
 they were going to light and dodge around the 
 traverse into the next bay. You might be knocked 
 down or even buried, but the effect of the explo- 
 sion of a " Minnie " is very local although it makes 
 an awful mess of your trench. 
 
 We had the men distributed evenly along the 
 front line. In addition to the sentry on duty at 
 the periscope in almost every bay, we posted fur- 
 
30 CAPTUKED 
 
 ther sentries gazing up to the front and right and 
 left watching for " Minnies." They gave no alarm 
 unless there was going to be a direct hit in their 
 own bay, when everyone was warned and dashed 
 around the traverse. Unfortunately, owing to the 
 fact that they were coming so thick, many a man 
 dashed around the traverse to escape the explosion 
 of one Minnenwerfer and ran directly into that of 
 another. 
 
 By 10 o'clock the bombardment had been so ef- 
 fective that our front line was practically de- 
 stroyed and a large portion of our men were wiped 
 out. Harvey Cockshutt sent for me and told me 
 to take about half of the men who were left — 
 amounting to some twenty — to the support trench 
 on our left. We could not move along the front 
 line so we jumped up on the parados and made a 
 dash for it overland. We gained the trench, with- 
 out a casualty, but found that it, too, was in a sad 
 state. We were moving along to the left when 
 suddenly a large shell or " Minnie,' ' I don't know 
 which, landed right in the middle of my little party 
 and wiped them all out with the exception of four 
 others and myself in the front, and perhaps one or 
 two in the rear whom I never saw again. 
 
 We five moved along a short distance till we found 
 a short angle in the trench which had somehow or 
 other escaped the attention of the German artil- 
 lery. Here I collected a few men from " C " Com- 
 pany which was on our left, until eventually we 
 
JUNE 2nd 31 
 
 numbered about ten. Had we been spared until 
 the attack came off, the ten of us would probably 
 have succeeded in pumping a considerable amount 
 of lead into the advancing Huns. 
 
 By this time we had begun to realise that this 
 was no casual " strafe " but the preparation for 
 an attack. A German aeroplane, flying very low, 
 noticed this little bit of undestroyed trench. We 
 feigned death. Any man who made a move was 
 properly cursed, as our only hope of being unmo- 
 lested was that this air-man should think we were 
 already dead. However, he decided to take no 
 chances, and directed the fire of what seemed to us 
 like about forty batteries, as well as several Min- 
 nenwerfers, on to our one little bit of trench. At 
 one moment I looked up and saw three " Minnies " 
 coming down directly on top of us. We all kissed 
 ourselves good-bye, and hoped for the best, but 
 none of them made a direct hit. One of the three 
 landed in the interior angle, and the other two on 
 the exterior faces of the angle made by the bend 
 in the trench, and all exploded simultaneously. 
 Everyone who had not already been wounded, with 
 the exception of a stretcher-bearer named Barclay 
 and myself, got it then. We were all half buried, 
 but we managed to crawl out. 
 
 Barclay and I put field dressings on the wounded 
 men and I gave morphia tablets — which all the 
 officers carried — to those who were in great pain. 
 There were only three besides myself who could 
 
32 CAPTURED 
 
 move, and I decided to act as Mr. Cockshutt would 
 have wished under the circumstances, and take 
 these men to a shell-proof trench in Mount Sorrel 
 which was commonly known as the Tunnel. We 
 had been given orders that in case of a heavy bom- 
 bardment, this was where we were to take our men. 
 In order to get there we had to go down a short 
 communication trench known as Canada Street, 
 but we had not gone more than a few yards before 
 we discovered that Canada Street existed no 
 longer. We crawled overland, following the line 
 of the trench by the bits of " A " frame and revet- 
 ting material which were protruding from the 
 earth. We soon came to the German barrage, 
 which extended all the way along our frontage just 
 in the rear of the trenches, and prevented any pos- 
 sibility of reinforcements reaching us. We saw 
 that it was hopeless to get through this at the time, 
 and decided to lie there until the barrage might 
 lessen sufficiently to enable us to make a dash for it. 
 I particularly wanted to reach the Tunnel, as it 
 was there that battalion headquarters were located, 
 and it was necessary to report that our trenches 
 were destroyed and that there were no men left to 
 defend the position when the attack should come. 
 As we lay there we were soon located by a German 
 machine gunner who ripped off two or three belts 
 at us. We were in full view with practically no 
 cover; the bullets cracked all around us and the 
 dirt flew in our faces. We had been under fire 
 
JUNE 2nd 33 
 
 many a time before and had often felt afraid. Ac- 
 cording to the old saying, any man who says he is 
 not afraid under fire is either a fool or a liar. 
 But none of us had ever experienced anything so 
 terrific as this. We knew we were going to be 
 killed, and we had got to the stage where it did not 
 seem to matter whether we got it then, or a few 
 minutes later. I believe it was this feeling that 
 had rendered all the men so cool and collected and 
 I was surprised to see, during that morning, that 
 some of the new men who were under fire for the 
 first time were just as cool as those who were old 
 hands at the game. Of course, they had the ad- 
 vantage of not knowing how dangerous a shell 
 might be, whereas the others had seen so many of 
 their friends " Go West " that they could appre- 
 ciate the danger more fully. 
 
 I don't know positively, but I believe that the 
 machine gunner got two of the men that were with 
 me — they were only a short distance away and I 
 never saw them rise from the ground when the 
 bombardment was over. As we lay there, hoping 
 the Boche machine gunner was not a very good 
 shot, we distracted ourselves by watching the 
 "Crumps" (large high explosive shells) light 
 around us. These you can often see during the last 
 hundred feet of their flight. They are travelling 
 so fast that they have the appearance of being 
 very much shorter than they really are, although! 
 their diameter does not appear altered. It was" 
 
34 CAPTURED 
 
 fascinating to watch them shooting in at all angles, 
 and to see the dirt and bits of trench fly in the 
 air as the terrific explosion came. 
 
 Suddenly, about one o'clock, we were aware of 
 the fact that the bombardment had ceased. At 
 first we did not know what had happened. Our 
 own artillery had also ceased fire. It was still as 
 the tomb of death. There was not even the crack 
 of a rifle to break the silence. It was all so strange, 
 after the terrific row that had been going on all 
 morning, that we did not know whether we were 
 alive or dead. I actually did believe for a minute 
 that I had gone to heaven, and that that was the 
 reason there was no noise. I probably flattered 
 myself regarding my future destination but that 
 was the feeling I had. 
 
 My conjectures on this subject were rudely dis- 
 pelled by the most peculiar sensation I had ever 
 experienced. The ground had started to sway 
 from side to side like a ship on a rough sea. It 
 was not a jerky motion but a gentle, slow move- 
 ment, and the ground we were lying on rose, what 
 seemed to me, about ten or fifteen feet. Up till this 
 moment there had been no noise. I looked around 
 and exclaimed : " My God, Barclay, there goes a 
 mine." 
 
 Precisely at that instant there was the most 
 deafening roar I had ever heard. Just under the 
 place where we had left those badly wounded men 
 a huge mine went up. We could clearly see the 
 
JUNE 2nd 35 
 
 stumps of trees, bits of trench and parts of what 
 had once been soldiers, soaring upwards to a tre- 
 mendous height. The air was filled with such a 
 mass of earth that for a few moments it was almost 
 as dark as night. Gradually the ground we were 
 lying on settled down, and a deluge of stones, tim- 
 ber and earth fell around us. I looked up and 
 saw a large piece of timber coming down, which 
 seemed to have picked me out as a good soft spot 
 on which to land. It was no use trying to dodge 
 it. I had not time; but even if I had, one spot 
 seemed about as good as another. With a terrific 
 thud it struck me on my steel helmet, which un- 
 doubtedly saved my life. 
 
 I don't know how long I was unconscious, but 
 when I opened my eyes Barclay was there beside 
 me, untouched by some miracle. I could not move 
 hand or foot and was fully convinced that my neck 
 was broken. I told Barclay I was done in and 
 that he had better get to Observatory Ridge if he 
 could, as the Germans would probably attack in a 
 moment, and that we would undoubtedly take up 
 a position on the ridge with any supports that 
 might be coming up. Barclay, however, stayed 
 with me a few minutes and I soon found that, with 
 his assistance, I could get up and stagger along. 
 My steel helmet had been driven down on my head 
 so far that it had torn my scalp in several places, 
 and I could hardly see for the blood streaming 
 down my face. Barclay examined my head and 
 
36 CAPTURED 
 
 found that the wounds were not serious, and we 
 continued at a little better pace. We were walk- 
 ing over the ruins of the old trenches and not a 
 living man was to be seen anywhere. 
 
 We came to a sort of lean-to dug-out which had 
 received a direct hit, and in the wreckage I found 
 Mr. Wells with his feet pinned down by revetting 
 material. With him were one or two dead and 
 very seriously wounded men. Mr. Wells himself 
 was very much dazed. He had had his ear-drums 
 so badly damaged that he could hardly hear me 
 when I spoke to him. I had enough strength left 
 to release his legs, and we decided to cross the little 
 stretch of marshy ground which lay between us and 
 Observatory Ridge. We were staggering along to- 
 gether when the sharp crack! crack! crack! of a 
 German " typewriter " caused us to look around. 
 For the first time we saw the long lines of ad- 
 vancing Huns. We knew we did not have much 
 chance but we kept on. The bullets were kicking 
 up the dirt all around us, and it seemed to us as 
 if they went between our legs and under our arms 
 without touching us. We knew if we could gain 
 Observatory Ridge we would be alright. But this 
 was not to be. 
 
 We went down together. Wells got it through 
 the side and at first I did not know where I was 
 wounded. I felt as if someone had struck me 
 across the back of the neck with a crow bar. I 
 rolled over and found that my left hand was flop- 
 
JUNE 2nd 37 
 
 ping uselessly at my side. I knew that my arm 
 was broken. We had both been pretty weak before 
 we were hit but this was the last straw. We just 
 had enough strength to crawl into a shell hole on 
 the edge of which we were lying. 
 
 Our artillery opened fire and shrapnel started to 
 burst all around us. There was the occasional 
 crack of a rifle from Observatory Ridge, but our 
 hearts sank when we noticed how intermittent the 
 fire was. We knew that no large body of supports 
 had been able to get up alive through the German 
 barrage fire. We hoped that every crack of a rifle 
 meant a Hun down and we cursed our luck that 
 we had not had time to go back to our dug-out for 
 our revolvers. We might have accounted for one 
 or two but if we had, this story would probably 
 never have been written. 
 
 As we lay there in the shell hole several groups 
 of Huns passed quite close to us. They were ad- 
 vancing slowly over the swampy uneven ground 
 which had been torn up by shell fire, and were 
 fortunately paying more attention to where they 
 stepped than to us. Every man had his rifle slung 
 across his back. They knew that there would be 
 no one left to offer any resistance. They wore a 
 look of pride and confidence which almost ap- 
 proached joy. We cursed them under our breath 
 and thought of what we might have done to them 
 if the bombardment had not wiped out our men so 
 completely. They were wearing their full equip- 
 
38 CAPTURED 
 
 merit and, in addition, each man carried a long- 
 handled spade slung across his back. Now and 
 then we would see an " Unteroffizier " examining a 
 map as he advanced, evidently figuring on a new 
 line of trenches. 
 
 We feigned death whenever a Hun passed close 
 to us, but we watched them through our half -closed 
 eyes, because we wanted to follow their actions and 
 hoped, later on, to be able to regain our own lines. 
 We knew they had not gone far past us because, 
 from a few yards away, smoke signals were being 
 shot into the air. These were beautiful to watch. 
 They were fired from a large pistol, probably simi- 
 lar to the Very pistol which we used for sending 
 up flares. One solid ball of smoke rose about a 
 hundred feet in the air and then burst into two 
 smaller balls which flew off at a tangent. This 
 was evidently the signal that their objective had 
 been reached. 
 
 The stream of advancing Huns stopped and at 
 last we were able to pay more attention to our- 
 selves. I managed with one hand to get Wells' 
 tunic undone and to pull his bloody shirt aside to 
 examine his wound. He could not tell exactly 
 where he was hit but thought it was through the 
 stomach. I was glad to be able to tell him that 
 this was not the case. I fixed him up as well as 
 possible. He was very weak from shock and, by a 
 little shifting, we managed to get him into a more 
 
JUNE 2nd 39 
 
 or less comfortable position in the bottom of the 
 shell hole. 
 
 I was in a filthy state. My left sleeve and the 
 left side of my tunic and breeches were soaked with 
 blood. Wells helped me pull up my sleeve and 
 I examined my wound. I found that the hole 
 where the bullet had come out was about three 
 inches in diameter. It had evidently struck one 
 or both bones, flattened itself out, and, on emerg- 
 ing, had torn out pieces of bone, flesh and tendons 
 and the blood was flowing freely. If I had not felt 
 so weak and sick I would have examined with in- 
 terest the interior workings of a man's fore-arm. 
 /My first thought was of the lectures in first aid 
 given by Capt. Stanley Mills of the 35th Battalion. 
 I knew that the correct thing to do was to put on 
 a splint. Capt. Mills had given us great scope in 
 the selection of splints but, unfortunately, none of 
 the articles recommended were to be had in this 
 one little shell hole. The only thing I could find 
 was a tiny, mossy sprig hardly strong enough to 
 support a canary.\ I took out my field dressing 
 and, with one hand and my teeth, did the best I 
 could to stop the flow of blood and bind the little 
 twig to my arm. I happened to have a large silk 
 handkerchief which I knotted into a sling, and then 
 sought a comfortable position in which to await 
 developments. 
 Wells produced from his pocket some gelatine 
 
40 CAPTUEED 
 
 wafers of a soothing drug which we both took, and 
 I brought out my flask of whisky, from which we 
 each took a pull. We felt better, and stealthily lit 
 a cigarette, carefully blowing the smoke down to 
 the ground. We expected a bomb any minute, but 
 as this did not come, we continued smoking until we 
 had finished the few cigarettes I had. We must 
 have slept for some time, for the first thing I re- 
 member after that was the fact that it was getting 
 dusk. This was the moment we had been waiting 
 for. If the Germans had not completely cut off 
 our retreat, we hoped to crawl back home in the 
 dark. I stealthily put my head above the edge of 
 the shell hole and looked around. My heart sank 
 within me. There was a brand new German trench 
 almost completed, and fairly bristling with Huns. 
 It was only a few yards away, but it lay between 
 us and Blighty. Had we been stronger we might 
 have been able to jump the trench and make a dash 
 for it. It would have been a million to one chance, 
 but as it was, we were so weak through the loss 
 of blood that we could never have crossed this new 
 German trench, had there been no one there to 
 hinder us. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Captured 
 
 The Hun who gathered us in was a rough look- 
 ing chap with a close-shaven head. He wore his 
 little round hat well down on his forehead. He 
 was not a bad sort of chap, and spoke English 
 fairly well; in fact, he had been a waiter in an 
 English hotel for some time. He expressed great 
 satisfaction at the thought of going back with us, 
 as he knew that this would mean so many hours 
 of comparative safety for him. He asked us if we 
 had any arms. We handed over our clasp knives 
 and told him these were the only weapons we had. 
 He said : " You are English officers. I take your 
 word." And so we moved on. The other prison- 
 ers had been taken back long before this, and as we 
 were alone we escaped the official examination and 
 search. 
 
 As we slowly picked our way across what had 
 once been our system of defence, we were horrified 
 to note the havoc that had been wrought by the 
 bombardment. Nowhere did we see a piece of 
 trench that had not been completely obliterated. 
 There were dead everywhere. In most cases they 
 were not lying on the top of the ground, but we 
 
 41 
 
42 CAPTURED 
 
 could see legs and arms protruding here and there. 
 Dug-outs that we had thought quite safe had been 
 crushed in like cardboard boxes. I was glad when 
 we reached what had once been No Man's Land 
 and had left this horrible scene behind. 
 
 About half way to the German front line we 
 entered a new communication trench which was 
 being dug feverishly to join up their new trench 
 with the old system. I had never before been in 
 a German trench and I gazed with awe at the won- 
 derful revetting work which was to be seen every- 
 where. The walls of the front line were built of 
 logs laid one on top of the other. The fire bays, 
 fire steps, traverses, etc., were as carefully and 
 strongly built as though they had been com- 
 pleted before the war began. The communication 
 trenches were remarkably deep and just as well 
 constructed. At short distances they were cov- 
 ered over by logs, forming shelters under which 
 men could take cover in case of shell fire. Their 
 communication wires were neatly fastened to in- 
 sulators screwed into the log walls and had evi- 
 dently been put there to stay. In one or two 
 places only did we notice the effect of our own 
 artillery fire. Even a direct hit seemed to do very 
 little damage to these trenches, which were so 
 strongly built. 
 
 The whole of the German system of defence at 
 this point was constructed in a wooded section of 
 country which sloped gently down toward Menin, 
 
CAPTUKED 43 
 
 When we reached their second line of defence 
 we saw a large signboard painted in a peculiar 
 manner, which we learned later was to be found 
 at every junction of a communication trench with 
 the second line, and was a guide in case a man did 
 not know exactly where he was in the system. We 
 found similar signboards painted in different col- 
 ours when we reached the third line. At these 
 junction points we could see the entrances to large 
 dug-outs evidently full of men, and at the mouth 
 of which there was always a sentry posted, who 
 acted as a traffic control. We were going very 
 slowly on account of our w T eak condition, but we 
 soon overtook one of our own men who seemed 
 to be making his way along the trench alone. He 
 had a horrible wound in his thigh, part of the 
 flesh having been shot away, but no one was there 
 to carry him. He was forced to make his way 
 along as best he could, clutching at the sides of the 
 trench. We wanted to stay with him and try and 
 help him, but our guard would not allow this. He 
 was evidently thinking of his own skin and wanted 
 to get out of the range of our artillery, which was 
 dropping shells along the communication trench. 
 We met several parties of men going towards the 
 front line, evidently to take over the trenches 
 which had been newly dug. 
 
 They all seemed in mortal terror of a shell and 
 whenever one came screaming overhead they would 
 either "flop" in the trench or rush for cover. 
 
44 CAPTURED 
 
 We had become more or less accustomed to artil- 
 lery fire. We had had plenty of it all that day, 
 and the few shells they were dropping there did 
 not appear to us as serious. We could not help 
 smiling at those Huns and hoped that all the rest 
 of them had just as bad nerves. 
 
 After what seemed an eternity we entered a 
 dressing station, which was an enormous concrete 
 dug-out with a long passage down the centre and 
 about four rooms on either side. After waiting 
 some time we were taken to a room where two 
 German doctors in white coats were working on 
 German wounded. One of them slit up my sleeve, 
 dressed my wound and applied a wire splint. He 
 gave me a white cotton sling and asked me if I 
 would like a drink of coffee. Our conversation 
 was in German. If I could have said it in his lan- 
 guage, I would have asked, " Does a duck swim? " 
 I was never so thirsty in my life. I had had noth- 
 ing to eat or drink since the day before, and when 
 he handed me a large mug of acorn coffee without 
 sugar or milk I finished it off in about three gulps 
 and held out the mug for more. It was the finest 
 thing I had ever tasted. 
 
 After one more drink I was sent from this room 
 to another, where I awaited Wells. I discovered 
 that the doctor had taken my silk handkerchief, 
 which had saved me an endless amount of torture 
 in walking down the communication trench. I 
 tried to get it back but was unable to do so. 
 
CAPTUKED 45 
 
 Before long we continued our dreary march. We 
 had not gone far when we came to a huge fence 
 about 20 feet high, constructed of logs, upon the top 
 of which we could see numerous machine gun em- 
 placements. This fence was in front of a large 
 engineers' dump and was evidently used as a 
 screen, so that the men could work behind it by 
 electric light without being observed from our 
 lines. We at length emerged from the trenches 
 and the wood. The first thing I noticed was a 
 white cross bearing the word " Englander." It 
 was probably some poor devil who had fallen in 
 the second battle of Ypres. 
 
 We were taken into a second dressing station 
 which was even more elaborate than the first. It 
 was built of concrete covered with ten or twelve 
 feet of earth, on which grass was growing. The 
 dressing station was not underground, but the floor 
 was about six feet below the ground level. In 
 front were steps leading down to a small paved 
 courtyard on which stretcher cases were laid, while 
 awaiting the attention of the doctors inside. 
 
 Here I saw a Canadian captain lying on a 
 stretcher with his head wrapped up in bloody band- 
 ages. I could not see his face for bandages and 
 unfortunately he was unconscious, so I could not 
 find out who he was. At this dressing station we 
 were given an injection against tetanus, and a tag 
 was tied on to us indicating this fact, the nature 
 and date of our wounds, and the treatment given. 
 
46 CAPTURED 
 
 A second and more substantial splint was put on 
 my arm. When the doctor had finished with us 
 we went outside and sat down to await the de- 
 parture of the small engineer train which was to 
 take us further on our journey. The Hun who 
 had brought us down received a certificate to the 
 effect that he had turned over his prisoners. He 
 said good-bye to us and regretted the fact that he 
 had to go back to the front line again, from which 
 he seemed to have doubts about returning. We 
 breathed a heartfelt prayer that he would not, nor 
 any of the others with him. 
 
CHAPTER y 
 
 Through Belgium to Germany 
 
 VFor half an hour or so we sat by the dressing 
 station wondering what our fate was to be. Our 
 minds inadvertently wandered back to the hours 
 of strain that we had just come through, and as 
 in a dream the horrible sights we had witnessed 
 passed rapidly before our eyes. J We could not help 
 thinking of all the men we knew so well who had 
 gone West, and wondering what had happened to 
 our friends in other parts of the line. It did not 
 seem possible that the whole Regiment, and per- 
 haps the Division, had suffered such terrible losses 
 as our own Company had endured. 
 
 We were rudely awakened from our reverie by 
 being ordered to climb into a truck of the little 
 train standing on the tracks of the engineers' rail- 
 way close by. The train consisted of a small en- 
 gine and four cars, which were about five feet wide 
 and ten, feet long, and closed in to the height of 
 two feet. On either side was a wooden bench. It 
 was only a step from the ground up, but that was 
 more than I could manage in my weak condition. 
 Two German officers who had been standing close 
 by saw my predicament and gave me a hoist up. 
 I was so grateful for this little attention that I 
 
 47 
 
48 CAPTURED 
 
 gave them my gas masks as souvenirs. I expected 
 to have them taken from me so did not mind giv- 
 ing them to someone who had been kind to me. 
 
 Before long the train was loaded and we started 
 off for parts unknown. Sitting across from Wells 
 and myself was a little fair German who was in 
 a terrible state of shell shock. On either side of 
 him was a big burly chap holding him by the arm. 
 At frequent intervals the little fellow would roll 
 his eyes and writhe in a frantic attempt to escape 
 from his guards. We could not help feeling sorry 
 for him, but were glad to know that our artillery 
 was giving them a little of their own back. 
 
 There were also a few slightly wounded Ger- 
 mans on the train and some others evidently going 
 back on duty of some sort. They seemed highly 
 pleased about it and lit up their pipes and cigars. 
 One man sitting next to us was apparently inter- 
 ested, and seeing by the looks on our faces that we 
 were dying for a smoke gave us each a cigar. We 
 murmured, " Danke Schon," and lit up. They w T ere 
 filthy weeds, probably made of cabbage leaf chem- 
 ically treated, but they tasted good to us. Three 
 of these are issued to the German soldiers as part 
 of their daily rations. 
 
 It was quite dark as the little train wandered 
 slowly back past numerous gun positions, from 
 which there came unceasingly the long red tongues 
 of flame as the guns fired. 
 
 We often turned around to take a look at the 
 
THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 49 
 
 place on which the artillery was directing its fire. 
 The ground sloped gradually up to the front line 
 trenches. The whole sky-line was brilliantly lit by 
 the flash of exploding shells, illuminating flares 
 and red and green S. O. S. signal lights, which were 
 continually going up all along the line. We knew 
 by this that our artillery was pounding the new 
 German trenches, and that Fritz had the " wind 
 up." The display was wonderful to watch, but 
 we knew only too well what a terrible night it 
 meant for all those in the front line. 
 
 About midnight we arrived at what we judged 
 to be Menin. Here we found some more of our 
 wounded and were all piled into a motor bus. We 
 were again seated on wooden benches and packed 
 in like sardines. Near the door were two or three 
 German sentries with fixed bayonets. 
 
 The engine of the bus was so weak that it could 
 not start without assistance. Several German sol- 
 diers were ordered out to lend a hand and, with 
 the aid of many guttural oaths, they at last got the 
 old Ark moving. The driver dared not slow down 
 for fear he would never get started again and we 
 bumped along over railway tracks and ruts in the 
 road. The continual jarring gave rise to many a 
 muffled groan from those inside. 
 
 Fortunately the journey across the town was not 
 long and we soon arrived at the main railway sta- 
 tion. As we passed along the platform we came 
 to the half -open door of the main waiting-room in 
 
50 CAPTURED 
 
 which we could see more of our men. My heart 
 jumped with excitement. I knew that if we got 
 in there, some of them might be able to give me 
 some information about my brother-in-law, and 
 also some of my other friends in the Regiment. 
 However, we were not allowed to stop. We con- 
 cluded that these men were less severely wounded, 
 and that the German mania for system and classi- 
 fication would not permit of our being mixed with 
 them. We were taken to a small wooden building 
 filled with tables and benches, where we were told 
 to sit down. We sighed with relief for we saw 
 we were to be given food. 
 
 The room was lit by electric light and for the 
 first time we were able to look around and see who 
 were with us. Sitting next me was an officer of 
 the 1st 0. M. R., who was badly wounded in the 
 head. On the other side was Wells and not far 
 away, Barclay, whom I had not seen since shortly 
 after the mine went up. Across the table was a 
 man with his jaw badly shattered. They were a 
 sad looking crew, covered with bloody bandages, 
 and very pale. Nobody spoke much. They were 
 all thinking too hard of how different it might 
 have been. It was midnight, and, if they had been 
 picked up by Canadian stretcher bearers, by this 
 time they would probably have been in England. 
 
 Soon there was a clatter of tin dishes and the 
 food appeared. We were to have our first taste 
 of German war rations. We discovered that there 
 
THEOUGH BELGIUM TO GEEMANY 51 
 
 had been no reason to get excited over it. Each 
 man was given a cup of acorn coffee without sugar 
 or milk, of course, and a small chunk of black soggy 
 bread. It was the first food we had had in thirty 
 hours and we were ravenous. I sympathised with 
 the poor chap with the shattered jaw, but that 
 didn't appease his appetite. What wouldn't he 
 have given for an egg-nog and a straw! 
 
 When the banquet was over we all searched our 
 pockets for cigarettes. Those who had them broke 
 them up into two, or even three pieces, so that 
 everyone might have a smoke. I racked my brains 
 and at length produced the sentence, " Durfen wir 
 Cigaretten kaufen?" (May we buy some ciga- 
 rettes ? ) , but I gathered from the reply to this that 
 the United Cigar Stores of the town didn't stay 
 open all night, so we settled down to await the next 
 move. 
 
 Fortunately we did not have long to wait. A 
 German Feldwebel (Sergeant-Major) appeared in 
 the doorway and shouted, " Englander heraus ! " 
 (Englishmen, come out). Our little party was 
 loaded into a railway carriage dimly lit by a lan- 
 tern. Down one side was a narrow passage-way, 
 giving access to the eternal wooden bench — this 
 time, however, with a back to lean against. Every 
 seat was so full that we had to sit up perfectly 
 straight. We were awfully tired and wanted to 
 curl up somewhere and sleep, but there was no hope 
 of that. 
 
52 CAPTURED 
 
 All night the train crawled along. About 4 a. m. 
 it stopped for some time in a large city in Belgium, 
 where a few men, judged in a dying condition, 
 were put off. We could see the stretchers being 
 carried along the platform. This was the first in- 
 dication we had that there were other wounded 
 prisoners on the train. 
 
 Cold and hungry we watched the dawn break. 
 As we lay on sidings in different towns we saw 
 trainloads of troops, guns and ammunition on their 
 way to the Western Front. Had we not been so 
 weak and tired we might have taken a great in- 
 terest in all we saw; but as it was, we sat most 
 of the time with our eyes half closed, enduring 
 our pain as best we could. 
 
 After what seemed an interminable journey, at 
 about 4 p.M.y we were ordered out of the train. 
 We were lined up and counted. Wells and I, be- 
 ing the only officers, were placed at the head of 
 the party, which numbered about forty. Like a 
 funeral procession we moved out of the station to 
 a building close at hand, which turned out to be 
 a hospital for German wounded. We were guided 
 down the stairs to two rooms in the basement. 
 One was devoid of any furniture and had no win- 
 dows, while the other had one small window and 
 was furnished with a single wooden bench. The 
 floors in both rooms were of concrete, and on these 
 we were invited to make ourselves comfortable. 
 
 Tike first thing I did was to ask one of the guards 
 
THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 53 
 
 if it were possible to buy any cigarettes. He said 
 it was, so Wells and I checked up our accounts 
 and found we had about thirty francs between us. 
 We subscribed ten and told him to do the best he 
 could. He got someone to relieve him and shortly 
 returned with about six packages of the filthiest 
 cigarettes I ever smoked. These we distributed 
 amongst the men and everybody was happy once 
 more. 
 
 It was here we saw the first signs of the German 
 Red Cross^ The men of this branch of the Ger- 
 man Army wear a distinctive uniform, of a pe- 
 culiar dark grey colour, with the usual red cross 
 on the arm. Most of them are kind and as sympa- 
 thetic as a Boche can be. 
 
 Two of these Red Cross men came in to see us 
 and noticed our lack of comfort. They at once se- 
 cured stretchers on which the more seriously 
 wounded could lie. During the next four or five 
 hours they brought several more stretchers, so that 
 eventually most of us were lying down. It was a 
 great relief. 
 
 I discovered one man who was shot through the 
 hand. He had had no attention except the original 
 field dressing applied by himself. The broken 
 bones were protruding, and he was suffering 
 agony. I got permission to see one of the doctors, 
 and, by means of signs and words, asked him if 
 this man could not have his wound dressed. He 
 said he did not think so but would ask the Ex Chef 
 
54 CAPTUEED 
 
 Arzt (head doctor). He returned with the infor- 
 mation that the man's wound could not be dressed 
 till he got to hospital. Evidently we had not yet 
 arrived. How we did curse those Huns and wish 
 we were in the hands of our own doctors. 
 
 I noticed one of the guards eyeing me curiously 
 and at length he came up and extended a small 
 pocket mirror. I glanced into it and then realised 
 the reason for his interest. I will never forget 
 the sight that met my gaze ; my face was one mass 
 of clotted blood and mud. I removed my steel 
 helmet and felt my head. I couldn't separate my 
 hair from the cake which covered it and I was glad 
 that no one who loved me (if there were any) could 
 see me at that particular minute. My mind ran 
 back to the moment when I recovered conscious- 
 ness after being hit by the timber from the mine. 
 I remembered finding my steel helmet lying beside 
 me and automatically jamming it as it was, full of 
 dirt, on my bleeding head. I felt an overwhelm- 
 ing desire to wash my head and asked for " warmes 
 Wasser" (warm water), but the guard thought 
 this a privilege only for Germans, and refused. I 
 had learned the pass-word from the doctor so told 
 him I wanted to see the Chef Arzt. This seemed 
 to have the required effect. I was taken to him 
 and he reluctantly gave permission. While I was 
 there I again enquired about having the man's hand 
 dressed, but was told the same story as before. 
 
 About six o'clock we were each given a tin bowl 
 
THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 55 
 
 of bean soup and a chunk of black bread. The 
 soup was quite thick and nourishing, and we soon 
 put it in a safe place as this was the first meal 
 we had had all day. A pail of acorn coffee was 
 passed around and with a tin mug we dipped out 
 what we required. The cigars and liqueurs were 
 dispensed with for that evening. After we had 
 finished eating we settled back on the stretchers 
 for a much needed sleep. Up till then we had felt 
 too tired and hungry to sleep, but at last the won- 
 derful feeling of drowsiness was coming over us 
 all. 
 
 We almost succeeded in forgetting our troubles 
 for a little while, but shortly after the meal a Ger- 
 man doctor and two assistants came around and 
 examined the tags on each man. Very few had 
 had an injection against tetanus and were given 
 it then. The quantity of serum injected and the 
 date were added to the information on the tag. 
 
 While this was going on I had a most peculiar 
 conversation with a Red Cross Orderly. He knew 
 a few words of English and French, and I a few 
 words of French and German. We spoke very 
 slowly to each other. Whenever we did not under- 
 stand we would try a word in one of the other 
 languages. 
 
 This system succeeded beautifully. I can see 
 him now, on one knee, beside my stretcher, and can 
 recall some of the conversation which ran some- 
 thing like this : 
 
56 CAPTURED 
 
 " How much years haben Sie? " 
 
 (How old are you?) 
 
 " Sieben-und-zwanzig." 
 
 (Twenty-seven.) 
 
 " You are verheiratet? " 
 
 (Are you married?) 
 
 " Ich verstehe nicht." 
 
 (I don't understand.) 
 
 "You are marie?" (married)] 
 
 " Ob, nein." 
 
 (Oh, no.) 
 
 "You are versagt?" 
 
 (Are you engaged?) 
 
 It took some time to find out what this meant. 
 He didn't know the French or English for it, but 
 by signs he let me know he meant engaged. I said, 
 " fiancee," and he remembered the word then and 
 nodded, " yes." Well, this was a delicate question 
 with me. I hoped I was, but didn't know for sure. 
 Rather than go into a long explanation I told him 
 I was. He seemed very much pleased, and then 
 attacked my family one by one. I was getting a 
 little fed up with this so switched him off the fam- 
 ily tree on to his life history. At the conclusion 
 of an hour we were friends, and he confided to me 
 that we were due to leave at eleven o'clock on an- 
 other train, and that he was coming with us. I 
 saw at once that he would be a good man to stand 
 in with, so took pains not to offend him. 
 
 The inside information I had received proved 
 
THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 57 
 
 correct and about eleven we were taken to the 
 station and again boarded a train. This time 
 Wells and I were put in what might have been 
 termed the drawing-room of a tenth class Pullman. 
 It was a small compartment about six feet square 
 with a wooden seat on each side. We at once lay 
 down on the seats which were made of nice soft 
 wood. We were soon disturbed by a German 
 sentry who came in and propped himself up in one 
 corner and settled down to watch his dangerous ( ?) 
 prisoners. That left room for only one to lie down 
 so we decided to take two-hour shifts. My friend 
 of the Red Cross was on the train, as he had said, 
 and produced a real pillow for which we blessed 
 him. 
 
 I I have passed more comfortable nights before 
 and since, but that hard bench and the pillow 
 seemed like a feather bed to me, and when it was 
 my turn to lie down I always felt that Wells just 
 twisted the hands of his watch around and woke 
 me up. \ 
 
 In the morning the sentry produced a greasy 
 looking parcel from which he extracted a chunk 
 of black bread, a bit of cheese, and a piece of 
 sausage. With the assistance of a clasp knife and 
 a great deal of unnecessary noise, he breakfasted. 
 After this interesting performance he proceeded to 
 fumigate the compartment with the smoke from 
 one of his cigars. We enjoyed it all with the ex- 
 ception of the imitation of a gas attack. 
 
58 CAPTURED 
 
 We also were given breakfast consisting of a 
 piece of the now familiar black bread and a cup 
 of acorn coffee. This was handed into the com- 
 partment and we concluded the dining car had 
 failed to make connections with our train. 
 
 After breakfast the sentry left us and his place 
 was taken by the Red Cross Orderly. He was 
 quite pleasant and told us that we were to detrain 
 at Aachen (Aix-la-Chapelle) where he would be 
 put in hospital. He gave us a German newspaper 
 to read, which we did our best to puzzle out, but 
 finally gave it up 
 
 Not long after lunch, which was the same as 
 breakfast, with the addition of bean soup, we ar- 
 rived at Aachen. A German medical officer came 
 on board the train. He saw the Red Cross Orderly 
 in the compartment with us and roared some un- 
 intelligible German at the top of his voice. Our 
 little friend looked terrified and jumped off the 
 train. Shortly after I saw him standing as stiff 
 as a poker while the officer told him off severely, 
 probably for being so kind to us. We never saw 
 him again except in his official capacity. 
 
 Evidently the German officer didn't like our 
 looks for we were told that we could not get off 
 there, and shortly afterwards Aachen was left be- 
 hind. We were horribly disappointed, but decided 
 that we couldn't learn to love that officer and per- 
 haps it would be better for us elsewhere. 
 
 The next news I got was that we were going to 
 
THEOUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 59 
 
 Coin. I was not aware that this was the German 
 for Cologne. After a long conversation with the 
 sentry, I learned that it was a beautiful city on 
 the Rhine with a Dom (cathedral) . I didn't know 
 what Dom meant and the sentry didn't know any 
 French. He kept repeating the word so often that 
 I thought him very profane. 
 
 While I was talking to the sentry a fast train 
 overtook and passed us like a flash. Swelling out 
 his chest, he informed me that this train was go- 
 ing over 100 kilometres an hour, and that many 
 trains in Germany did that. I knew one particu- 
 lar train that didn't and wished to God it would 
 hurry, or that they would let us off to walk for a 
 while. 
 
 We passed several groups of children who threw 
 kisses towards the forward end of the train. We 
 wondered why, and poked our heads out of the 
 window to find out. We saw that the cars ahead 
 were loaded with German wounded. When the 
 children saw us they cocked up their chins and 
 drew their hands across their necks, indicating the 
 pleasant end we would have if they could get at us 
 with a knife. 
 
 We saw Russian and French prisoners working 
 in the fields, waved to them and received a cheery 
 response. 
 
 About 5 p. m. we drew into Cologne, crawled 
 across one of the huge bridges over the Rhine and 
 into a station. The tracks were some distance 
 
60 CAPTURED 
 
 above the street, where an interested crowd soon 
 gathered to look up at the British prisoners and 
 probably curse England. We looked right through 
 them and quietly cursed Germany and all the 
 Germans. 
 
 On the platform were numerous Red Cross or- 
 derlies who took charge of us. We were led to a 
 waiting room where we spent another half hour, 
 and were then taken outside and loaded into two 
 small tram-cars handled by women. We were so 
 crowded that half of us had to stand up and hang 
 on to the straps. The platforms were filled with 
 vicious looking sentries with fixed bayonets, who 
 looked as though they wished one of us would try 
 and escape so that they could have a good excuse 
 for using the business end of the rifle. At that 
 particular moment we didn't want to escape; all 
 we wanted was to sit down somewhere, anywhere. 
 
 The trams carried us back across the bridge and 
 wound their tortuous way through the main streets 
 of Cologne. I think the drivers had instructions 
 to show us off to the people because I now know 
 that we could have come a much shorter way 
 than we did. Everything came to a standstill as 
 we went by. The crowds stared. A few people 
 hissed and booed but there was no violent demon- 
 stration of any sort. 
 
 We turned into a side street where the trams 
 stopped in front of a stone building set back about 
 twenty feet from the other buildings, and with an 
 
THROUGH BELGIUM TO GERMANY 61 
 
 iron fence across the front. At the gate stood a 
 sentry. 
 
 The doors of the building were flung open. Men 
 in uniform and others in long white coats came 
 rushing out. There was much excitement and 
 shouting of orders. 
 
 With bayonets lowered at a convenient angle the 
 sentries conducted us past a crowd of awe-struck 
 children and through the gate. We had arrived at 
 last. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 Lazarett VI 
 
 Inside was a long hall that ran across the front 
 of the building. Opposite the door was a stone 
 stairway leading up stairs, and on either side an- 
 other leading down to the courtyard and the base- 
 ment. Along the hall were rooms with painted 
 signs over the doors reading, Chef Arzt, Inspector, 
 Polizei Bureau (Police Office), etc. 
 
 We were lined up in the hall and taken in charge 
 by the Police Corporal, a short dark man with a 
 nasty disposition, who was chewing the butt of a 
 cigar. We later on learned to despise this fellow. 
 
 A group of French, English and Russian pa- 
 tients gathered round to look at us. This was the 
 first excitement they had had in some time and the 
 Englishmen were particularly interested. They 
 saw glorious opportunities for getting some recent 
 news from the front. Very few of them had seen 
 the steel helmets which we were wearing. They 
 gazed at us in wonder, and well they might, for 
 we were a curious looking, muddy lot of almost 
 exhausted men. 
 
 We were just as interested in the patients. They 
 
 m 
 
LAZARETT VI 63 
 
 were all wearing the hospital clothes, consisting 
 of a long coat and loose trousers of blue and white 
 striped material. The coat had one button at the 
 neck and was fastened around the waist like a 
 dressing gown with a tape made from the same 
 material. On their feet they wore sandal slippers 
 which were well named — one had to curl one's toes 
 up tight to keep them from slipping off altogether. 
 As they were all dressed this way it was hard to 
 tell the English from the others. 
 
 The little crowd of spectators was roughly or- 
 dered to stand back and the Police Corporal com- 
 menced business. He came to Wells and myself 
 first as we were on the end of the line. The con- 
 versation was again a mixture of French and Ger- 
 man. I told him we were officers and asked to be 
 put with the other British officers if there were any 
 in the hospital. He demanded papers to prove 
 that we really were officers. I don't know whether 
 or not he expected that we all carried our com- 
 missions around in our pockets. I showed him the 
 stars and braid on my sleeve but that made no 
 impression on him; he wanted written proof. I 
 fumbled at the neck of my shirt and produced my 
 identification disc, on which was engraved my rank 
 and regiment. This seemed to satisfy him and we 
 were told to fall out and go upstairs to the officers' 
 ward. 
 
 An English sergeant, with his arm in plaster, 
 came up to us and asked if he could help us. We 
 
64 CAPTURED 
 
 accepted his services as guide. He led us up to 
 the first floor and around the corridor, which was 
 filled with iron bedsteads, to a door bearing the 
 letters B2. He told us this was to be our new 
 home and opened the door. 
 
 Inside, standing by the door, was a nun talking 
 to two British officers. As soon as we entered she 
 bowed to her friends, murmured, " Auf wieder- 
 sehen" (good-bye), and slipped quietly out of the 
 room. 
 
 The taller one of the two greeted us with, 
 " Cheer-o, fellows. What's the matter? You look 
 bad. My name's Moodie (Capt. O. S. Moodie, 
 Black Watch) and this is Gray (Lieut. K. W. 
 Gray, R. F. C). Where did you get yours? 
 You're the first human beings we've seen since 
 January. Won't you sit down? " We gladly ac- 
 cepted the invitation, introduced ourselves and 
 proceeded to sketch briefly the story of June 2nd. 
 
 Gray went to the window and shouted down into 
 the courtyard, " Watkins, Hallam." In about a 
 minute two English Tommies rushed in. They 
 were patients who had recovered from their 
 wounds and were kept on as officers' servants. 
 One of them went downstairs and came up with 
 bed linen, while the other proceeded to punch the 
 three sections of mattress — or "biscuits" as they 
 are called — and get everything ready. 
 
 We were pretty tired. While we talked we kept 
 
LAZARETT VI, COLOGNE. 
 
 FRENCH AND RUSSIAN PRISIONERS PEELING THE DAY 3 SUPPLY OF 
 POTATOES FOR LAZARETT VI. 
 
LAZARETT VI 65 
 
 one eye on the beds to make sure they would not 
 vanish and with the other took in our surround- 
 ings. 
 
 The room was large — about twenty -five feet 
 long and twenty feet wide. The walls were fin^- 
 ished in light grey stucco. There were three large 
 windows overlooking the courtyard. On the wall 
 at one end was a black-board arranged like a win- 
 dow. The two halves slid up and down in a frame. 
 This was explained by the fact that the hospital 
 had been a girls' school before the war and we were 
 occupying class-room B2. The floor was covered 
 with a rubber composition matting. Four regula- 
 tion German military hospital beds were ranged 
 along each side of the room. 
 
 These were narrow iron beds with a steel rod 
 at the head, which carried a metal plate painted 
 black and on which was chalked the patient's num- 
 ber, his "Krankheit" (illness) and details as to 
 his diet — but more about this later. Beside each 
 bed stood a small locker with two shelves and a 
 drawer. A table at the opposite end of the room 
 from the blackboard, a chair pushed under the foot 
 of each bed, and a cupboard by the door, completed 
 the furniture. 
 
 As soon as we had fulfilled our duties as bearers 
 of news we asked if it were possible to cable home 
 to our families. We were told that it was impos- 
 sible, but that we were allowed to write a post-card 
 
66 CAPTURED 
 
 every week and a letter every fortnight and, if we 
 hurried, we could get one of each away on a mail 
 leaving next morning ( Monday, June 5th ) . 
 
 Moodie and Gray provided us with note-paper 
 and pencils — ink was " verboten." We pulled 
 our chairs up beside our beds and began our let- 
 ters. I stuck a pin through the paper to hold it 
 as I wrote and proceeded to fill the six ruled sheets 
 we were allowed. I wrote very small, gave a de- 
 tailed account of my capture, and my new address, 
 which consisted of my rank, name, and regiment 
 in full, followed by Kriegsgefangener, Festungsla- 
 zarett VI, Abt. Kaiserin Augusta-Schule, Coin, 
 Deutschland. I knew that was enough to deter 
 anyone from writing to me. My father got over 
 this difficulty later by having numerous envelopes 
 typewritten, and presenting them to anyone who 
 suggested sending me a letter. That left them no 
 loop-hole, so I got a lot of mail. 
 
 I wrote this first letter to my sister, who was in 
 England at the time. As I read it over again now 
 I remember the prayers with which I finished it, 
 and how I hoped it would arrive all right so that 
 all the things I asked for might be started on their 
 long journey. I will quote the latter part : 
 
 " As you know I have lost everything I had in 
 the trenches except what I had on. 's pic- 
 tures and all of yours and Bill's are gone. Please 
 sfctotl me more, all of yon,, Get Tom Fanner to seed 
 
LAZARETT VI 67 
 
 back my kit (which was at Transport H. Q., back 
 of the line). Then send me my gabardine tunic, 
 slacks, my soft cap — I had on my steel helmet — 
 that other pair of low shoes, new pair of puttees, 
 my slippers, some socks and handkerchiefs, some 
 shirts and collars, pipe, cards, tobacco, cigarettes, 
 magazines and books (these latter never arrived), 
 tea, oxo, chocolate — cooking and eating — sugar, 
 jam, etc., tinned meats and meat pies. I'll have to 
 depend on you for lots of little luxuries, so please 
 keep sending this stuff regularly. It arrives O. K. 
 Don't forget my underwear, too, and pajamas. 
 Soon you will have to send heavy underwear. 
 Also send me that new pair of cavalry-cord breeches 
 and a pair of those fatigue slacks, a pair of size 8 
 running shoes for tennis when I get into camp (I 
 never got there). I am enclosing the key to my 
 kit bag. You can send it to Tom. (It never ar- 
 rived.) For Heaven's sake send me word as soon 
 as possible about Jack. I haven't been able to find 
 out anything. If he is not all right over there he 
 may be here some place, but I haven't seen or heard 
 of him, nor yet have I of any of the other officers. 
 I can write a postcard every week and a letter 
 every two weeks, and will write every other letter 
 to and the other to the family. The post- 
 cards will probably be used for rush orders, etc. 
 Please, oh please, all of you write often. Send 
 this to Father and Mother and ask them to for- 
 ward it to . It's 11.30 and I am awfully 
 
68 CAPTURED 
 
 tired, but I had to get this off tonight to go in A. M. 
 We travelled from 11 o'clock last night till 5 this 
 afternoon in one jump. Sorry I missed Uncle Jim 
 in France. Love to all of you, heaps of it, and 
 regards to all my friends and relations. 
 
 " Harve." 
 
 While we were writing Watkins appeared with 
 the supper. It was Sunday night and we were not 
 given a heavy meal. There were several thin slices 
 of black bread spread with a filthy imitation of 
 butter and a few slices of sausage. 
 
 Wells and I eyed this hungrily, but Moodie and 
 Gray told us to contain ourselves while they went 
 up to the chapel to hold the service for the Eng- 
 lishmen, after which they promised us a good meal. 
 
 Their word was as good as their bond for, after 
 chapel, Gray surreptitiously produced a little spirit 
 stove from under the radiator, while Watkins was 
 sent down to the basement for some mysterious 
 tins. One of these was slipped into a bowl of hot 
 water on the stove. The other was emptied into 
 a little frying-pan and a beautiful odour filled the 
 room. We thought we would probably wake up 
 before long. Dishes were produced from the cup- 
 board and other tins were opened and their con- 
 tents divided on the plates. Gray was the master 
 of ceremonies at the stove, and we eagerly watched 
 him dump a can of peas into a dish and drop in a 
 
LAZARETT VI 09 
 
 huge chunk of butter from another tin. When all 
 was in readiness we sat on the sides of our beds 
 and ate a meal which I would gladly have paid 
 f 10 for at the Biltmore in New York. 
 
 We had lamb chops and fried country sausage 
 with green peas cooked in butter. For dessert 
 there was a mixture of tinned peaches and pears 
 covered with very thick cream. All this was 
 miraculously produced from tins which Moodie 
 and Gray had received in parcels from home, and 
 we at once decided to ask for some of these things 
 before completing our letters. 
 
 After this wonderful meal we continued our 
 writing, asking Moodie's and Gray's advice on what 
 it wa^ iaost necessary to have. They told us we 
 could iiave money cabled to us through Holland, 
 and that we could buy lots of useful things such 
 as shaving materials, etc. In the post card which 
 
 I sent to Mr. C , the manager of our office in 
 
 Manchester, I asked him to cable £10 and also to 
 send word to my family. 3tfy father was in 
 Canada, my sister was in England, and I knew 
 that my mother had intended sailing for home on 
 June 10th. I repeated many of the things I had 
 stated in the letter, as we were told that post cards 
 were surer and quicker. 
 
 When we had finished writing we felt that our 
 duty was done. Watkins was sent for, and he 
 helped us undress and put on the funny little short 
 
70 CAPTURED 
 
 hospital nightshirts. I was given one that fas- 
 tened up the left side with tapes. The floor was 
 covered with the mud that broke off as our puttees 
 were removed. 
 
 The beds were made in a peculiar way. The 
 " biscuits " were covered with a sheet in the ordi- 
 nary manner, but the blanket was folded up and 
 slipped into a cotton bag just the width of the bed. 
 This prevented any possibility of tucking in the 
 clothes so that if you rolled on your side it made 
 the bed draughty to say the least. It did not 
 bother me as it was months before I was able to lie 
 in any position except on my back. We were so 
 tickled at getting into a bed between real sheets 
 that we didn't care what disadvantages it might 
 possess. 
 
 I had a great deal of difficulty in finding a com- 
 fortable position for my arm, but Gray very kindly 
 gave me a small soft pillow he had secured some- 
 how and on this I rested it. The pillows issued 
 were as hard as bricks but felt like eiderdown to us. 
 
 The lights were extinguished and all was still. 
 It seemed so remarkably peaceful after all we had 
 come through in the last three days that I could 
 not help offering up a prayer of thanks that I was 
 still alive. 
 
 My mind kept wandering back to the events of 
 June 2nd, and I fell asleep thinking about all the 
 horrible sights I had witnessed. I passed the first 
 of many restless nights dreaming of all this, won- 
 
LAZARETT VI 71 
 
 dering what I could possibly have done to have 
 got back to our lines, and what had become of Jack 
 and all my other friends. At 3 A. M. I woke and 
 could not get to sleep again. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 Hospital Life Begins 
 
 My first full day in Lazarett VI had begun. At 
 6 o'clock a Frenchman quietly entered the room 
 carrying a huge jug of coffee and an armful of 
 bread. There were enamelled mugs standing on 
 our lockers, which he filled. He left us each a 
 piece of black bread about four inches square and 
 two inches thick. This was our ration of bread 
 for the day. From that time forward, at regular 
 hours, food was brought to us as follows : 
 8 a.m. "Schinken" — which consisted of a very 
 thin slice of bread smeared with some sort of 
 grease and a shaving of sausage or cheese. 
 This was breakfast. At this time we also re- 
 ceived our ration of butter which consisted of 
 a very small piece of this same greasy sub- 
 stance used on the " Schinken." During the 
 morning we each got a bottle of aerated water 
 called lemonade and coloured either pink or 
 yellow. We could have our choice. 
 11 a. m. A mug of what was supposed to be bouil- 
 lon — - a colourless and flavourless liquid whose 
 
 72 
 
HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 73 
 
 only virtue was that it was very hot. A cube 
 of oxo dropped into this made a fairly decent 
 drink. 
 12 :30 P. M. Lunch — invariably watery boiled po- 
 tatoes and cabbage, and sometimes a piece of 
 horse-meat with all the nourishment boiled out 
 of it for soup. It was coarse-grained and very 
 sweet. Once a week we had awful smelling 
 fish cooked with the heads, eyes and tails com- 
 plete. There was no doubt about its being 
 fish. The trouble was that it had been caught 
 years before the war began. We could never 
 eat it so we gave it to the Kussians who oc- 
 cupied the beds in the hall outside our door. 
 They devoured it all, poor fellows ! They re- 
 minded me of the old story of the dog which 
 was advertised for sale thus : " Will eat any- 
 thing. Very fond of children." Instead of 
 meat or fish we often got a very large pancake, 
 tough as leather, and fried in fish fat. Butter 
 and pure grease were never allowed in the 
 hospital kitchens. 
 
 2 p. m. A glass of milk. If you drank it at once, 
 holding your nose, you could make yourself 
 believe that it had come from a cow. If you 
 left it standing for three hours it divided it- 
 self into junket and clear water. After six 
 hours the junket turned to a chalk-like sub- 
 stance. 
 
 4 p. m. Coffee. 
 
74 CAPTURED 
 
 6 P. M. Dinner — which was the same as lunch 
 with the addition of soup. 
 
 About 8 o'clock on the morning of June 5th a 
 sanitaire came for me and helped me along the 
 hall to the X-Bay room where a very expert nun 
 took two photographs of niy arm. Later on in 
 the morning a rubber-tired hospital car bearing 
 dressings and instruments was pushed into the 
 room by an orderly, and in a few minutes Dr. 
 Meyer and a red-headed assistant doctor, followed 
 by two sanitaires all dressed in long white coats, 
 appeared. One of the latter removed the bandages 
 from my arm. Dr. Meyer examined the wound 
 and muttered, "schlecht" (bad); then turned to 
 the assistant doctor and said, " Schreiben Sie!" 
 (Write!) The doctor diagnosed my case glanc- 
 ing from time to time at the X-Eay photographs, 
 while his assistant wrote down on a pad all the 
 details which were later to be inserted in my medi- 
 cal history sheet. 
 
 Moodie spoke German very well and he ex- 
 plained to me afterwards that the doctor had said 
 that the wound where the bullet entered was not 
 serious, but that three centimetres of the radius 
 had been carried away, while the large hole torn 
 by the flattened bullet and splinters of bone was 
 in a serious condition, and several of the tendons 
 had been destroyed. 
 
 I was taken downstairs to the "plaster room." 
 The doctor and his assistant slipped on overalls 
 
CROUP OF BRITISH PRISONERS AND SOME HOSPITAL ORDERLIES IN 
 LAZARETT VI. AT THE EXTREME LEFT IS LUDWIG, AND STANDING 
 NEXT HTM, LOEFELSIND. 
 
 FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN DIRT. 
 
HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 75 
 
 and spread sheets all over the floor. My arm was 
 wrapped in flannel and then bandages sprinkled 
 with Plaster of Paris were dipped in a pail of 
 water and wound round my arm until I was in a 
 solid cast from my shoulder to the tips of my fin- 
 gers. During this operation the assistant had in- 
 structions to hold my hand in a certain fixed posi- 
 tion. I think he must have been in love, for his 
 eyes wandered round the room and I had to place 
 my hand over his to prevent him turning my wrist 
 out of the correct position. While the plaster 
 bandages were being wound on, a tin can was 
 placed over the wound. When the plaster cast 
 was completed this tin can was withdrawn, leav- 
 ing a round opening for the purpose of applying 
 dressings. I was told to go back to bed, having 
 been given the cheerful information that I would 
 have to carry this plaster cast around with me for 
 two or three months. I could only lie in one posi- 
 tion — on my back, and the continual pressure of 
 the cast on my stomach caused me untold agony. 
 I had no decent rest for weeks. 
 
 When I got back to the ward I found the assist- 
 ant doctor working on our medical history sheets. 
 He wanted to know everything about us except 
 whether our mothers wore false hair. Moodie 
 acted as interpreter or we would never have got 
 through. 
 
 When he had gone our minds turned to more 
 worldly things. Wells and I rubbed our chins 
 
76 CAPTURED 
 
 which had not felt a razor for days and asked, 
 "What about it?" Moodie said, "Oh, Ludwig 
 will fix you up with a razor and everything you 
 need. Have you any money?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, we are rich. We have got twenty 
 francs between us." 
 
 " That's enough. Watkins, get Ludwig. " 
 
 Hallam broke in with, " You only need to get one 
 tooth-brush, Sir. I have an extra one I have only 
 used a few times." 
 
 We decided we would waste the price of the 
 second tooth-brush. 
 
 Pretty soon Ludwig appeared. He was enor- 
 mous. His head was cropped like that of a con- 
 vict. He had been the driver of a German beer 
 wagon before the war and he looked as though he 
 had never arrived anywhere with more than half 
 of the original load. He grinned all over his face 
 when Moodie poked him in the corporation and told 
 him that we needed safety razors, soap, lather 
 brushes, mirrors, tooth-brushes, tooth-paste, hair- 
 brushes and combs. He sprang smartly to atten- 
 tion, shaking all over like a jelly fish, sad, "Ja 
 wohl, Herr Hauptmann," and went out of the room. 
 
 We knew that our first shave would be a tough 
 proposition so a Frenchman, who had been a Pari- 
 sian barber before the war, was sent for. He gave 
 us each a beautiful shave as we lay in bed and we 
 felt much better. He used to shave the officers for 
 
HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 77 
 
 twenty Pfennigs — five cents — and the men for 
 ten Pfennigs. 
 
 Not long after, Ludwig reappeared empty handed. 
 Our hearts sank, but he produced everything we 
 had ordered from the depths of his trouser pockets. 
 His tunic hung down in such a manner from his 
 enormous waist-line that he could have concealed 
 anything from a tooth-brush to a baby elephant. 
 We learned later on that this was an illicit trade 
 which Ludwig carried on. He sold things to us at 
 cost price and we tipped him regularly. He ran a 
 little "blind pig" in the cellar where he sold 
 Cognac or " Schnapps/' as he called it, at fifteen 
 Pfennigs for a glass about the size of a thimble. 
 He could not afford to lose a customer so he gladly 
 ran messages for us. 
 
 We were supposed to buy everything through 
 the Feldwebel who added about a hundred per 
 cent to the price of all articles. If we wanted to 
 buy anything of size or value we were obliged to 
 do it through him; otherwise there would be 
 questions raised as to where we got the money, 
 and who did the buying. I ordered a suit case 
 later on. It was made of paper and cost me twen- 
 ty-two Marks — $5.50. Owing to a little careless- 
 ness the price mark — thirteen Marks — was not 
 erased. I realised then what a burglar the Feld- 
 webel was. That first day he went around the 
 hospital and collected all the money from the new 
 
78 CAPTURED 
 
 arrivals. We hated to part with it but there was 
 no alternative. He was the banker for the hospi- 
 tal and kept all the money belonging to the pris- 
 oners. Three or four times a week a Frenchman 
 would come around with a book ruled off for us to 
 sign. Each officer was given the large sum of 
 three Marks and each Tommy one Mark, if he had 
 any on deposit downstairs. We were not allowed 
 to have more than that amount in our possession 
 at a time. Of course we had, but didn't tell 
 every one about it. We all had camp and escape 
 in view, and for that purpose hoarded our money. 
 It might prove very useful. It was all made of 
 paper, with the exception of the five and ten Pfen- 
 nig pieces which were of iron. 
 
 One day the Police Office got a tip that the 
 English officers had money. An orderly came and 
 told us that a German officer was going to search 
 our room. He went out of the door for a minute. 
 We stampeded to the cupboard, slipped some of 
 the paper money between the leaves of books and 
 in other hiding places — and waited. Presently 
 in came the Police Corporal and several other hos- 
 pital officials but no officer. It had been a bluff 
 to make us declare everything. They asked if we 
 had more than three marks apiece. We admitted 
 that we had and opened the drawers of our lockers 
 for inspection. They rummaged around and 
 found we each had from five to ten Marks more 
 than the allowance. We apologised profusely and 
 
HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 79 
 
 said that it was an oversight. They carried this 
 money off in triumph. We really had about a 
 thousand marks between us at this time. 
 
 Through an arrangement with the British Gov- 
 ernment, each month a lieutenant was credited 
 with sixty marks, forty of which were kept by the 
 Germans to pay for hospital food. This, with the 
 addition of the money that was sent from home, 
 assured us at all times of a credit balance with the 
 Feldwebel. 
 
 During that first day I learned that Moodie had 
 been taken prisoner in an attack at Loos, Septem- 
 ber, 1915. He had been shot through the left 
 ankle, just as he reached the barbed wire in front of 
 the German trenches, and had been unable to go 
 back when the others were ordered to retire. Ever 
 since that time he had had his leg in plaster. 
 Two or three times it had been removed but the 
 ankle joint had become so stiff that the doctors 
 had been obliged to break it again and reset it, in 
 hope of eventually giving him some movement in 
 the joint. He was absolutely fed up with German 
 hospital life. 
 
 Gray was an observer in the Koyal Flying 
 Corps. His machine had been shot down by the 
 famous aviator Boelke, in January, 1916. His 
 pilot was killed and he was picked up unconscious. 
 Boelke sent him a signed photograph with a pack- 
 age of tobacco and cigarettes. These were all 
 shown to me as cherished souvenirs. Gray's left 
 
80 CAPTURED 
 
 arm had been badly broken by the fall. The ends 
 of both bones were protruding. At the field dress- 
 ing station four men pulled his arm while the doc- 
 tor poked the ends of the bones into position with 
 bits of wood. When he arrived at our hospital his 
 arm was at once put in plaster by " Gyps Meyer " 
 — nicknamed for his fondness for putting every- 
 thing in plaster. They succeeded in getting one 
 bone to heal, but the ends of the other bone were 
 one above the other and about an inch apart. 
 Gray was turned over to the surgeon of the hos- 
 pital who did a wonderful graft operation, putting 
 a piece of bone from the shin at right angles to the 
 unhealed bone and thus joining up the two ends. 
 Immediately after the operation Gray was again 
 put in charge of Dr. Meyer who could not wait to 
 see if the graft had been a success or not. He 
 took the splints off after less than three weeks and 
 commenced violent massage which broke the arm 
 again. This happened just after our arrival and 
 Gray was disgusted. Dr. Meyer put his arm back 
 in plaster. 
 
 By night time, June 5th, my temperature, which 
 was taken regularly twice a day, was very high. 
 I was feeling very ill and not taking much interest 
 in life. 
 
 The next morning, when the doctor removed the 
 dressing, he discovered that I had gas poisoning in 
 the wound. He called in the surgeon and they 
 held a consultation and decided to amputate my 
 
HOSPITAL LIFE BEGINS 81 
 
 arm. I wasn't keen on this and told them so. 
 They said I would probably die if I didn't have 
 the operation. I was so disgusted at being a pris- 
 oner of war that I didn't care what happened to 
 me. They held a long conversation and finally 
 decided to wait a day or so to see how the wound 
 progressed. Thank goodness, they did. If I had 
 not been in such good health when I was wounded 
 I would probably have cashed in. 
 
 That day a man came in with a sign-board for 
 the head of my bed. I felt like a convict when 
 I saw my number — 3729. Under the word 
 " Krankheit " was " Zerbrechung compl. links Un- 
 terarms, Maschinegewehrschuss " (complicated 
 fracture of left fore-arm, shot from machine gun). 
 I suppose this was put there to remind me that 
 I did not have hydrophobia or any other disease. 
 At the bottom was chalked a large II and a list 
 of the articles included in Diet II. There were 
 two kinds of diet and the only difference between 
 them, as far as I could make out, was the number. 
 
 Watkins emptied all the valuables from the 
 pockets of my uniform and carefully removed the 
 badges. He did the same for Wells and carried 
 our clothes off to be washed. Every prisoner on 
 entering the hospital had his clothes taken from 
 him and sent to the laundry. Hospital clothes 
 were issued when he was able to get up and on 
 leaving for camp his clothes, which were tied in 
 a bundle and kept in racks in the basement, were 
 
82 CAPTURED 
 
 again given to him. He very seldom got his orig- 
 inal uniform complete as the Boches had a great 
 liking for good boots and often helped themselves. 
 The Russians suffered particularly in this respect. 
 I have seen Russians in rags lined up in the 
 courtyard, waiting to be taken away to camp. 
 Some of them were without socks and had nothing 
 on their feet but the hospital slippers. They were 
 often without a tunic, to say nothing of a great- 
 coat. I actually saw one man with his feet in 
 bandages, lined up with the rest. Some fool doc- 
 tor had discharged him from the hospital and he 
 was waiting to hop away with the others, prob- 
 ably to be put to work as soon as he arrived. After 
 a great deal of fuss he was struck off the list and 
 left behind. This was a marvellous feat for the 
 German system. Once a thing is down in black 
 and white it is almost unalterable without the 
 Kaiser's consent. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 Sunshine and Shadow 
 
 My first three weeks in hospital passed by un- 
 eventfully. Most of the time I was very sick and 
 didn't take much interest in what was going on 
 around me. I lay thinking of home and wonder- 
 ing when I would get my first letters. 
 
 There were three nuns in the hospital who were 
 the only women on the staff with the exception of 
 those working in the kitchen. Two of them as- 
 sisted in the operating room and the other did all 
 the X-Ray work. One, named Schwester (Sister) 
 Edelberta, was very nice to us. She made a point 
 of visiting our room almost every day. Two or 
 three times she brought flowers from the chapel, 
 which she placed in water on the lockers beside 
 our beds. She often spoke of her brothers. One 
 of them was in a German Regiment of Guards 
 and had been at the front since the beginning of 
 the war; the other had lost part of his hand and 
 was at home. She went regularly to the chapel 
 three times a day and prayed for the safety of her 
 brother at the front and for the end of the war. 
 
 On the occasion of these visits the conversation 
 was weird and wonderful to hear. Our German 
 was becoming undoubtedly more fluent but our 
 
 83 
 
84 CAPTURED 
 
 vocabulary was very limited. Sckwester Edel- 
 berta was very religious and did not believe any 
 one could tell a lie. Gray used to hold long con- 
 versations with her on all sorts of subjects, but 
 usually religion. His German was terrible but 
 that didn't bother him in the slightest. He went 
 right ahead making the most glaring mistakes in 
 grammar and inserting English words where he 
 did not know the German. A great deal of ges- 
 ticulation and pantomime helped her to under- 
 stand. 
 
 One day he told her that he was a Buddhist or 
 some such thing, and that part of their religious 
 rites involved the burning of bones. He invited 
 her to be present one day at this ceremony. She 
 went away very much impressed, leaving Gray 
 rolling on his bed with laughter. I think in a 
 year's time he would have absolutely shattered 
 that woman's faith. 
 
 It was a big day when I was allowed up. I 
 put my feet on the floor and then knew nothing 
 more until I found myself back in bed. Watkins 
 and Hallam had been standing nearby and caught 
 me as I fainted. Later on in tfte day I sat up for 
 ten minutes, but had such a high temperature at 
 night that I was not allowed up again for three 
 or four days, when I was given a complete set of 
 hospital clothes. 
 
 As soon as I was strong enough I made a tour 
 of inspection of my new home. The hospital con- 
 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 85 
 
 tained about five hundred beds, mostly occupied 
 by Kussians. There were about fifty English pa- 
 tients and the same number of French. The 
 wards were all full and the corridors on every 
 landing were cluttered up with beds to accommo- 
 date the overflow. 
 
 The building was of four storeys and constructed 
 in the shape of the letter " L." There was a small 
 paved courtyard in the centre, enclosed on two 
 sides by the hospital, and on the other two by high 
 brick walls in the rear of private houses. In this 
 courtyard, and against one of the walls, was a 
 small stone building used as a mortuary. It 
 nearly always contained the bodies of one or two 
 patients awaiting burial. Almost every day we 
 would see a stretcher covered with a white sheet 
 carried across to the mortuary. 
 
 In one corner of the yard was a pig-pen and 
 chicken-run. This was the private property of the 
 inspector of the hospital, who used his Govern- 
 ment position to great advantage. The stench aris- 
 ing from the pig-pen made this corner of the court- 
 yard almost uninhabitable. We had no other 
 place to take exercise, and, between the pigs and 
 the Kussians, we preferred to stay inside. 
 
 In the basement was a room used for the stor- 
 ing of clean hospital clothing and bed linen. On 
 obtaining a written order from one of the doctors, 
 articles of this nature could be secured from a 
 little red-headed German named Loefelsind, who 
 
86 CAPTURED 
 
 was in charge. He also kept guard over the store 
 of methylated spirits for hospital use. He was 
 not averse to making a little money now and then, 
 and we used to secure a bottle of this precious 
 liquid for our little stove at the price of a Mark. 
 We would send Watkins or Hallam down for a 
 clean sheet or a pair of trousers. He would carry 
 the empty bottle down wrapped around with the 
 dirty clothes to be exchanged for the clean ones, 
 which would hide the bottle on its return trip. 
 
 Near this was the parcel room, which was the 
 most interesting for the patients. 
 
 All the parcels and letters for prisoners in hos- 
 pital were censored at Wahn or some similar place 
 on the Dutch frontier. Those for prisoners in 
 camp were not opened until they arrived at the 
 camp in which the man was situated. The censor- 
 ship of our parcels generally took from two to four 
 weeks, so that parcels coming from England or 
 Canada were anywhere from one to three months 
 on the way. 
 
 The parcel room was in charge of a German Un- 
 teroffizier (non-commissioned officer) who had on 
 his staff five or six English and French soldiers 
 and one Russian sergeant-major. One or two mem- 
 bers of the staff, accompanied by a hospital or- 
 derly, would go to the station with a small hand 
 cart and collect the parcels when their arrival was 
 announced. Word soon went round the hospital 
 that a certain number of parcels had come and the 
 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 87 
 
 excitement was intense until the list was sent 
 round giving the names of the winners. In the 
 meantime the serial numbers, which were stamped 
 on every parcel when it was censored, were en- 
 tered in a book opposite the name of the recipient. 
 The parcels were then opened and the sealed tins 
 extracted. On each tin was printed in ink the 
 hospital number of the man to whom it belonged, 
 and then it was placed in a small room used for 
 the storing of food stuffs belonging to prisoners. 
 When this work had been completed, the men were 
 allowed to enter the parcel room one by one, and 
 take away the packages and unsealed tins to their 
 wards. Every man was notified of the number of 
 sealed tins that had been placed to his credit. 
 When he required one of the latter he went to the 
 basement, carrying with him plates, cups or any 
 other container he could get hold of. The tins 
 were opened and dumped into these receptacles. 
 This regulation was enforced to prevent prison- 
 ers receiving compasses or other articles of use 
 when escaping, which might be enclosed very easily 
 in the false bottom of a tin. By means of a little 
 diplomacy and sleight-of-hand we were very often 
 able to get an unopened tin to our room without 
 being detected. I tucked many a tin into the broad 
 sling which supported my plaster cast and thus got 
 it past the watchful eyes of the Germans. In the 
 parcel room were also the racks which held the 
 bundles of clothes belonging to the patients. Each 
 
88 CAPTURED 
 
 bundle bore a tag with the name of the man to 
 whom it belonged. When a party was due to leave 
 for camp there was great excitement in the parcel 
 room, sorting out the clothes for the men who were 
 going. Very often it would be found that some 
 very necessary articles were missing, and a hurried 
 attempt would be made to substitute these from 
 bundles belonging to men who had died or of those 
 still in the hospital. We used to imagine the day 
 when the war would be over and the last man was 
 to leave. We wondered whether he would wear 
 any more clothes than Adam. 
 
 The hospital was well guarded by Landsturm 
 troops. At the beginning there were sentries on 
 every floor but later on, owing to the shortage of 
 men, the sentries were removed from the second 
 and third storeys. One man stood guard at the 
 front gate, and one sauntered around the court- 
 yard with a loaded rifle hanging over his arm in 
 a convenient position in case of any disturbance. 
 We always watched critically the changing of the 
 guard. They would clump along the street under 
 the command of an Unteroffizier. In front of the 
 hospital he would shout, "Halt! Gewehr ab!" 
 (Order Arms.) With an uneven rattle and crash 
 the rifles would bang down on the pavement with 
 enough force to destroy the strongest firearm. At 
 an unintelligible command they would straggle 
 into the hospital and along to the guard room. 
 The relief of the individual sentries was carried 
 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 89 
 
 out in a free and easy manner. Each sentry of the 
 first relief went alone to his post and the original 
 sentry returned alone. The old guard was formed 
 up in the street. The Unteroffizier called them to 
 attention; ordered, " Gewehr auf, (Slope Arms) 
 Marsch ! " and away they went. 
 
 While inspecting my new home I found some of 
 the men taken on the 2nd of June and had a long 
 conversation with them trying to find out the fate 
 of my friends, and what had happened in other 
 parts of the line besides that of which we knew so 
 much. 
 
 We used to go around regularly and visit the 
 English prisoners who could not get up. One man 
 had been in bed for over a year with a bad wound in 
 his leg. Owing to the lack of nourishing food the 
 wound would not heal, and the leg swelled up and 
 had to be lanced continually. He was in a terrible 
 state. There was practically no flesh on his cheek 
 bones. We sent him food regularly and for a week 
 I kept him alive on a jar of calves' foot jelly I re- 
 ceived later in one of my parcels, and which was the 
 only food he was able to swallow. He could not 
 even manage to drink a glass of malted milk. He 
 was passed for repatriation direct to England, but 
 there was some hitch in the arrangements and he 
 was still in hospital when I left. This preyed on 
 his mind to such an extent that it greatly retarded 
 his progress. 
 
 The food for the men was served in a disgusting 
 
90 CAPTURED 
 
 manner. Patients who could walk were detailed to 
 carry it from the kitchen to the wards. For this 
 purpose they used a wooden rack with two shelves 
 and a rod along the top. Each shelf had four large 
 holes just big enough to hold firmly the tin bowls in 
 which the food was served. The different portions 
 of the meal were all thrown into this one recep- 
 tacle. Very often a man would be given a bowl 
 containing a mixture of bad fish, a few potatoes, 
 some cabbage and a little dried fruit. The fact 
 that all this was usually served by Russians, who 
 were far from clean, did not make the meal any 
 more attractive. 
 
 If a man were in a dying condition he got the 
 same food as the others. I know that many men 
 did die simply because of the lack of nourishing 
 food served in a way that would tempt their appe- 
 tites. We all shared up our parcels, but for a long 
 time we had very few. Later on when they began 
 to arrive in greater numbers we were much bet- 
 ter off. 
 
 We used to spend a good deal of our time sitting 
 on a bench in the front hall, looking out of the 
 window and watching the children playing in the 
 street. They seemed so happy and free that we en- 
 vied their lot. 
 
 About the end of June we had a visit from Mr. 
 Williams. Before the war he had conducted the 
 services in a church in Berlin which was attended 
 by the Kaiser and his family. He received a spe- 
 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 91 
 
 cial order which allowed him to visit the hospitals 
 and camps and hold religious services for the Eng- 
 lish prisoners. Of course, we had our regular Sun- 
 day night service in the chapel of the hospital. It 
 was conducted by Moodie, being the senior officer. 
 The service was very simple. It consisted of the 
 collect, psalms for the day, a few prayers from the 
 evening and morning services, and three hymns. 
 There was no sermon. We were provided with 
 Church of England prayer books by a German par- 
 son who spoke a little English and used to read 
 the burial service for our dead. I always used to 
 wonder that no one ever discovered that right there, 
 in the heart of Germany, we prayed that the King 
 should "vanquish and overcome all his enemies." 
 
 When Mr. Williams arrived it was a big event. 
 All the Englishmen who were out of bed assembled 
 in the chapel. He was a charming man and, as he 
 wanted to please everyone, he asked if we had any 
 particular hymn we would like sung. Some bright 
 spark in the back called out, " A Few More Years 
 Shall Boll." We could not help laughing, but Mr. 
 Williams took it all in good part and said, "No, 
 we never sing that nor e There is a Happy Land.' " 
 
 On July 6th a new lot of very badly wounded 
 English arrived from the Somme battlefield. I no- 
 ticed that they were asked the same questions as we 
 had heard a little over a month before. The Ger- 
 mans all wanted to know when they thought the 
 war would be over. They gave the same answer 
 
92 CAPTUEED 
 
 that every Englishman gives to this question, to the 
 effect that we were just beginning to get our men 
 ready, and the war was sure to last at least five or 
 six years more. When a German gets this informa- 
 tion he can almost cry, but he keeps on asking the 
 same question from every new prisoner, hoping that 
 some day he will find a down-hearted one who will 
 tell him that England is ready to give in at any 
 minute. I am afraid, however, that they will ask 
 the question a great number of times before they 
 find a down-hearted Englishman. 
 
 Two of the new arrivals were officers. One 
 young chap named Tilley had tried to stop seven 
 bullets. Fortunately no bones were broken, but he 
 had had two narrow escapes. One bullet had 
 passed through the back of his neck and just missed 
 his spine; another had seared his shoulder blades 
 as though a red hot poker had been laid across 
 them. This one also had passed within a fraction 
 of an inch of his spine. His other wounds were in 
 the legs and side. 
 
 The second officer was named Clark. He had 
 had his thigh badly fractured by a bullet. He had 
 been nearly a week on the way back to Germany 
 and in that time had developed gas poisoning. He 
 was very feverish and ill. His wound was similar 
 to mine so I took a great interest in him. 
 
 The following day Dr. Meyer put Clark in plas- 
 ter from his armpits to the foot of the broken leg. 
 Of course, his arms and his other leg were free, 
 
FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN BIRT. 
 
 THE FRENCH CAPTAIN, CAPTAIN MOODIE, THE GOVERNOR OF COLOGNE 
 AND GERMAN OFFICERS AT THE MILITARY FUNERAL OF CAPTAIN 
 BIRT, AN ENGLISH OFFICER WHO DIED IN LAZARETT VI. 
 
SUNSHINE AND SHADOW 93 
 
 but he could not move and suffered agony from the 
 wound and the heat of the plaster. 
 
 I asked him if I could write home for him. He 
 looked very grateful, and told me he was engaged 
 to be married and would appreciate a letter writ- 
 ten, half to his mother and half to his girl. He 
 was too weak to dictate. I considered myself 
 rather expert at writing love letters and very 
 shortly produced a satisfactory epistle. He 
 scrawled his signature and we sent it off. On the 
 same day I wrote a similar letter for Tilley, whose 
 arms had been partially paralysed by the wound in 
 his neck. 
 
 Clark became so ill that the doctor decided the 
 only way to save his life was to amputate his leg. 
 He was too weak to stand the operation, so they 
 left it till the next day and hoped for the best. In 
 the morning he was feeling better and smoked a 
 cigarette. He said he could sleep, so we left the 
 room. In half an hour they brought us word that 
 he was dead. Tilley was just a youngster and felt 
 very nervous at seeing Clark die in the same room 
 with him. We cheered him up with stories of men, 
 with serious wounds who had made a rapid recov- 
 ery. Our prophecy proved correct. In three weeks 
 he was up. Nature is a wonderful thing ! 
 
 As a rule, when an Englishman died we were only 
 allowed to buy wreaths and stand reverently at the 
 door of the mortuary, while a German minister read 
 the burial service in English. We always brought 
 
94 CAPTURED 
 
 our hymn books with us and sang a hymn before 
 the coffin was removed. 
 
 When Clark was buried the same kind of service 
 was held in the courtyard, but by special permis- 
 sion ten men and we three officers who could walk 
 — Gray, Wells and myself — were allowed to march 
 behind the hearse to the grave. On this occasion 
 we wore as much of our uniforms as we could get 
 on over our plaster and bandages. Another short 
 service was held in the chapel at the cemetery. 
 From here the little procession was led by a Ger- 
 man military band playing the Dead March. As 
 the body was lowered into the grave we gave Clark 
 his last salute. The band played a hymn and we 
 were marched off by our guard. I will never forget 
 seeing a German woman, who had probably lost all 
 the men of her family, standing there weeping as we 
 passed. 
 
 On the way home, we came to a school just as the 
 pupils were getting out. They at once surrounded, 
 and commenced to .follow us. The guard had to 
 use severe threats to drive them back and prevent 
 them from stoning us. They hissed and booed until 
 we were out of earshot. 
 
 Several of the other newly arrived Englishmen 
 died, but we were never again allowed to go to the 
 cemetery. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 Making the Best of It 
 
 The horrible monotony of the existence, the fact 
 that no one around you cares whether you live or 
 die, and that you have nothing to look forward to 
 but the end of the war, make the life of a prisoner 
 almost unbearable. One has actually to be a pris- 
 oner to realise this. It is a state of mind that can- 
 not be imagined. I can quite easily see how men 
 who have been in German hospitals or camps for 
 two or three years become despondent, nervous 
 wrecks and often go stark staring mad, or commit 
 suicide. 
 
 Reading through my old letters home I come 
 across a phrase now and then that recalls vividly 
 the feeling of loneliness that possessed me at the 
 time. After only six weeks of imprisonment I 
 wrote : " Please write me often and tell me all the 
 news, and ask anybody I know, who would care to 
 write to me, to do so. It is horribly dreary here. 
 It is cold and raining most of the time. Believe 
 me, we will all be glad when the war is over." 
 
 Moodie had spent a year in hospital and some, 
 days would be attacked with a fit of the blues. He 
 would lie on his bed without saying a word, paying 
 
 95 
 
96 CAPTURED 
 
 no attention when the meals arrived. Gray and I, 
 seeing the effect on him and others, would attack 
 him with pillows. Moodie would defend himself 
 and a rough pillow fight would result. Of course, 
 we had to be very careful not to injure the arms or 
 legs which were in plaster. Heavy artillery in the 
 shape of bottles of aerated lemonade would be 
 brought up, and the shower baths that ensued would 
 generally bring the party to an end with everybody 
 laughing and the desired result would have been 
 accomplished. 
 
 There was an English Tommy with a shrapnel 
 wound in the head, whose case illustrates the utter 
 indifference displayed by the German doctors with 
 regard to the fate of prisoners. His cheek bone 
 was fractured just in front of the ear and for some 
 time he was under the care of Dr. Meyer. He suf- 
 fered a great deal of pain and could not sleep at 
 night. The doctor seemed to take little or no no- 
 tice of his suffering but said there was a splinter 
 of bone inside the skull which might work to the 
 surface if poultices were applied. This was car- 
 ried out by the men in the ward, who heated water 
 in a steel helmet over a spirit stove supplied by the 
 hospital. The case became so serious that I inter- 
 viewed the Chef Arzt and got the patient moved 
 downstairs to another ward under the care of a 
 head-specialist who operated at once. It was found 
 that the man had an abscess on the brain caused 
 
MAKING THE BEST OF IT 97 
 
 — — — — i 
 
 by the splinter of bone. He died within a few days. 
 Incidents like this did not tend to make our lot 
 any more pleasant, but we avoided as much as pos- 
 sible letting our minds dwell on our surroundings 
 and lived in the past, and for the future. 
 4 Cards were a diversion that offered great pos- 
 sibilities. We Canadians introduced the " national 
 game " of poker and also Polish Bank, and the 
 Englishmen took a great delight in using the slang 
 poker terms on every possible occasion. The Bus- 
 sians and Frenchmen had peculiar games of their 
 own. Wherever one turned little groups could be 
 seen, sitting cross-legged on the floor or on the side 
 of a bed, playing some game with a pack of greasy 
 and dog-eared cards. In our ward bridge was the 
 most popular form of amusement, and almost the 
 whole of every afternoon was whiled away at this 
 game. When we had more than four players the 
 extra ones would sit around and watch the game 
 until it was their turn to cut in. 
 
 Beading also served to pass away the time. 
 Moodie and Gray, who had been in the hospital for 
 a long time, had a few books that had braved the 
 censors, j We also had some books in English, such 
 as " The Life of a Curate," which were provided by 
 the German pastor who buried our dead and who 
 also, at long intervals, held a service for us in the 
 chapel. There was a waiting list for all these 
 books, which were passed around the hospital as 
 
98 CAPTURED 
 
 fast as they were read. If we had had a copy of 
 Webster's Dictionary it would have been devoured 
 from cover to cover. 
 
 As I have said, certain men who were fit were 
 employed on permanent duties, such as working in 
 the parcel room, issuing tinned food, etc. ; Barclay, 
 who had recovered from his wounds, being a 
 stretcher bearer, was made a sanitaire. Others were 
 employed on weekly fatigues, cleaning the floors 
 and peeling potatoes. As this vegetable was our 
 staple article of diet it took a lot of potatoes every 
 day to feed five hundred men. At any time in the 
 courtyard could be seen ten or fifteen men seated 
 around barrels and tubs into which the potatoes 
 were tossed as they were peeled. Later on, owing 
 to the scarcity of food, the peeling was dispensed 
 with as being wasteful. 
 
 The study of French was an occupation which 
 attracted many of the Englishmen. There was a 
 French captain in the hospital — the only French 
 officer there — and I soon made arrangements to 
 exchange lessons in English for instruction in 
 French. We managed to have text books bought 
 for us in the city and commenced w T ork in earnest. 
 He lived alone in a small room on the first floor and 
 here, for two hours every day, we worked. Half 
 the time was devoted to each language. We went 
 right through the grammar taking one lesson at a 
 time. In the beginning all our explanations were 
 made in German, as this was the language we both 
 
MAKING THE BEST OF IT 99 
 
 knew best. As time wore on, during the hour de- 
 voted to French, that language alone was spoken, 
 and a similar arrangement was made for the Eng- 
 lish hour. Exercises were written as part of the 
 preparation for each lesson, and these were cor- 
 rected and assigned marks as religiously as though 
 we had been correcting examination papers for a 
 University degree. This serious work served to 
 make the days seem much shorter and my knowl- 
 edge of French proved of inestimable value to me 
 later when I reached Switzerland. 
 
 On July 8th we were sitting in the hall down- 
 stairs when the mail arrived. A letter bearing my 
 name was handed to me, and I felt as excited as 
 though peace had been declared. It turned out to 
 be a money order amounting to 200 Marks, which 
 had been cabled to me from England. I knew then 
 that my first letter or card had arrived, that my 
 family at last knew my fate, and that I could expect 
 letters before long. I was very much relieved. On 
 July 13th I also received £2 sent by mail. The 
 claim slip showed that at the current rate of ex- 
 change I should have received 49 Marks, 23 Pfen- 
 nigs. This amount was scratched out and 40 
 Marks inserted. The difference was a pretty 
 healthy discount for the Germans to claim. The 
 value of the Mark kept decreasing during my stay 
 in Germany, but on no occasion did any of us re- 
 ceive the full amount due for the money sent. This 
 open robbery must have netted the German Gov- 
 
100 CAPTURED 
 
 eminent an enormous revenue, when one considers 
 the number of prisoners who were continually re- 
 ceiving money. 
 
 On July 14th my first letter arrived, and from 
 that time on my only thought on waiving in the 
 morning was, " Will there be a mail in to-day, and 
 if so, will I get a letter? " Every prisoner of war 
 feels the same way. The most exciting thing that 
 can happen to him is the receipt of a letter or a 
 parcel. 
 
 About this time the Swiss Commission paid a 
 visit to the hospital. It consisted of three Swiss 
 doctors who visited the English and French in most 
 of the hospitals and camps in Germany, and se- 
 lected men who were considered unfit for service 
 for a year and who might be benefitted by treatment 
 in Switzerland. The men had to be recommended 
 by the doctors in charge. Those accepted were 
 sent to Constance or some other place near the 
 Swiss frontier, where they were seen by another 
 Commission composed of half Swiss and half Ger- 
 man doctors and final judgment was passed on 
 them. The Germans had the deciding vote in case 
 of doubt. 
 
 Gray's arm was in a bad state. It was very 
 crooked and he had a dropped wrist. He saw the 
 Commission without advising Dr. Meyer that he 
 was going to do so and was at once accepted, but 
 unfortunately just as his name was being entered 
 on the official list Dr. Meyer appeared. He was 
 
Camp money issued by the various prison camps and given in ex- 
 change for German coins and notes which might prove valuable in 
 case of the escape of a prisoner. The camp money was only good 
 in the actual camp in which it was issued. 
 
 The right-hand ring was made by a Russian prisoner in the hospital 
 at Cologne from aluminum secured from a munition factory in 
 which he was working. His only tools were home-made, and he did 
 this work to earn a little money to buy extra food. 
 The other two rings were also made by Russian prisoners and pre- 
 sented to Lieut. Douglas out of gratitude for food he had given 
 them. Left-hand ring is made from aluminum, and ring in center 
 from horsehair and beads. 
 
 
 Nickel coin, value 10 Pfennigs, in use before the war. (Right.) 
 War issue of same value and made of iron. (Left.) 
 Nail in form of stickpin and presented to each person paying two 
 marks and driving an iron nail into the wooden statue Kolscher Boer. 
 The money thus raised was used for Red Cross work. (Center.) 
 
MAKING THE BEST OF IT 101 
 
 furious and said that he wanted to treat Gray's 
 arm for some time to come. This was just what 
 Gray was trying to avoid, but he had to stand aside 
 and see his name struck off the list. 
 
 Wells saw the Commission but was refused. 
 Moodie and I were so far from recovered that we 
 knew it was hopeless and did not present ourselves. 
 
 Not long after this an English aviator named 
 Wilson was brought to the hospital from the camp 
 at Mainz, where he had been sent with several 
 other officers to see the Swiss Commission. He 
 told us some interesting things. He had been in 
 touch with officers from several different camps and 
 we listened eagerly to his description of camp life, 
 as we all expected before long to be leading that 
 sort of existence. We discussed earnestly different 
 plans he had heard for escape, and looked forward 
 to the time when we might take an active part in 
 striving to attain what is cherished as the ultimate 
 goal by every prisoner of war. 
 
 » While Wilson was in Mainz there was an at- 
 tempted escape. Three officers planned to work 
 together. One small building in the camp was 
 used as a recreation room and canteen. Inside the 
 building, and against the wall next the canteen, was 
 a series of long wooden steps, closed in at the ends, 
 used as a sort of small grandstand for observing 
 the various games in progress. Beneath this was 
 the spot selected for the commencement of a tunnel. 
 The sound of the ripping up of the floor boards un- 
 
102 CAPTURED 
 
 derneath the grandstand was deadened by the cheer- 
 ing and stamping arranged by the other occupants 
 of the room. The work progressed beautifully. 
 There was plenty of space under the steps for stor- 
 ing surplus earth and the workers only emerged 
 for roll call. 
 
 One day, just before the tunnel was completed, 
 orders were given that all officers who had been 
 refused by the Commission were to be sent to other 
 camps. Wilson had not been accepted, but was to 
 be left behind, as he had to return to hospital. 
 Most of the officers, including the three "moles," 
 were on the list of those to leave. 
 
 Our three friends entered their place of work, 
 taking with them three days' provisions. Those 
 outside replaced the boards at the ends of the steps 
 with the nails in their original holes and departed. 
 When the final roll was called, of course, these 
 three were missing. No one had seen them. There 
 was great excitement and eventually the party had 
 to move off without them. 
 
 That night, in a frantic attempt to complete the 
 work, a little noise was made when the recreation 
 room w T as vacated and absolutely still. The keeper 
 of the canteen became suspicious and his report re- 
 sulted in the discovery of the elusive ones. We 
 never heard how many weeks of "jug" they got 
 for this. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 Privileges, Etc. 
 
 Wilson only spent a few weeks with us, but his 
 visit proved most profitable. We learned of the 
 things we were entitled to and of the privileges 
 accorded German prisoners in England. We de- 
 cided to take a firm stand and demand certain 
 rights for the Englishmen in the hospital. 
 
 We officers formed ourselves into a committee and 
 interviewed the Inspector. We told him about the 
 way German prisoners were treated in England, 
 explained to him that there were many men able 
 to walk who needed fresh air and exercise, and de- 
 manded that a system similar to that in vogue in 
 all the camps should be introduced into the hospital. 
 In camps men are put on their parole and sent out 
 in parties of thirty or forty, in charge of a guard 
 of one officer and a non-commissioned officer, to 
 take a two-hour walk in the country. On their re- 
 turn their parole is given back to them and they 
 are free to attempt to escape if they wish. We 
 explained the simplicity of this system to the In- 
 spector, who promised to investigate the matter and 
 make arrangements. 
 
 The Inspector's name was Driessen. He owned 
 a big hotel on the Rhine, which before the war had 
 
 103 
 
104 CAPTURED 
 
 accommodated many English and American visi- 
 tors. He spoke English quite well and was, or pre- 
 tended to be, very friendly towards English-speak- 
 ing people. At the conclusion of our interview he 
 suddenly came out with a string of the vilest Eng- 
 lish oaths I ever heard and then asked us to trans- 
 late them. This was a rather hard proposition, but 
 we did the best we could. When he learned what 
 he had said he seemed horrified. We asked him 
 where he had learned his English and particularly 
 where he had picked up such expressions. He said 
 that before the war he had gone to England to 
 study the language and had lived with a professor 
 and his family. 
 
 " Charming people," he said, " all of them very 
 charming indeed. The only objection I had to 
 them was that now and again the professor and his 
 wife, and sometimes the mother-in-law, would get 
 drunk, and then they would use those expressions 
 which you have just translated for me. Oh, yes, 
 they were charming people. " 
 
 On July 21st our interview with the Inspector 
 bore fruit. All the Englishmen in the hospital 
 who could walk were to be taken out in the city 
 for two hours. Uniforms were issued to these men, 
 who polished their buttons and carefully put on 
 their puttees in order to make a good impression 
 on the people of Cologne. Just before it was time 
 to start an officer marched in with a large guard, 
 almost as big as the party they were to conduct. 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC. 105 
 
 We formed up in two ranks, were carefully 
 counted, and marched out into the street. Moodie's 
 leg was in plaster and he could not walk, so it had 
 been arranged that he might have a carriage if he 
 paid the expenses himself. In the carriage there 
 was room for four — three officers and a German 
 sentry. We drew lots as to who would accompany 
 Moodie — Wilson and Gray were the lucky ones. 
 Wells and I and the French captain, who wore his 
 red breeches on these special occasions, were 
 formed up in front of the men, who were arranged 
 in sections of fours. The carriage was in the rear. 
 The whole party was surrounded by the guard 
 carrying loaded rifles with fixed bayonets. We 
 moved slowly off like a convoy of dangerous crim- 
 inals instead of a few harmless unarmed men, most 
 of whom were helpless even had they been un- 
 guarded. 
 
 The commander of the party avoided the main 
 streets as this was the first time prisoners had been 
 paraded through Cologne in this manner, and he 
 did not know how the people would act. His fears 
 proved to be groundless as the adult population 
 showed keen interest, but were not demonstrative. 
 The children, however, made cutting remarks about 
 England, and would gladly have done us injury 
 had they been permitted. After nearly an hour's 
 marching, we arrived at a large cemetery around 
 which we were paraded for fifteen or twenty min- 
 utes. This form of amusement evidently appealed 
 
106 CAPTUKED 
 
 to the German sense of humour. We, however, 
 took a great deal of satisfaction out of the sight of 
 the thousands of little white crosses which marked 
 the graves of the Germans who had died in mili- 
 tary hospitals in Cologne. 
 
 When we arrived back at the hospital I over- 
 heard the following conversation between a Tommy 
 who had been out, and one of his less fortunate 
 friends : 
 
 " Where did they take yeh, Bill? " 
 
 " They took us to a bleedin' cemetery." 
 
 " Yeh don't say so." 
 
 "Yes, but the blinkin' thing was chuck full of 
 Boches." 
 
 "Good egg" 
 
 After this the Germans felt frightened at what 
 they had done, and we were not allowed out again 
 for a month. We had many interviews with the 
 Inspector and made ourselves so objectionable, that 
 in order to gain peace the walks were resumed, but 
 at irregular intervals. During seven months we 
 were only allowed out of the hospital four times. 
 After the first walk the officers were given the privi- 
 lege of going alone with a German officer and a 
 guard. They refused to let us give our parole and 
 there was nearly always a greater number of sen- 
 tries than prisoners. Try as we might, we could 
 never again get permission to have a carriage for 
 Moodie, and we were refused the privilege of visit- 
 ing the famous cathedral on the ground that there 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC. 107 
 
 were fortifications nearby which we should not see. 
 We were usually taken around the Ringstrasse, the 
 main street of Cologne, which runs in a semi-circle 
 through the city, commencing at one point on the 
 Rhine and finishing at another a mile or two far- 
 ther down. On one occasion we went to the Stadt- 
 wald, which is a beautiful park on the outskirts of 
 the city. It was raining and we asked the officer in 
 charge if we might go into a small restaurant 
 nearby and order something to eat while we waited 
 for the rain to stop. As we approached the res- 
 taurant we saw a German officer sitting with a lady 
 on the balcony. He sneered at us and turned his 
 back. On his account we were not allowed inside, 
 but were obliged to sit out in the rain at a little 
 iron table while we drank a cup of very bad coffee 
 without cream and sweetened with saccharine. 
 We were just two — the French captain and my- 
 self. The officer in charge and the sentries avoided 
 us, while we sat there, as if we had been a couple 
 of lepers. We cursed the whole German army and 
 hoped some day to be given the joy of commanding 
 a camp full of German prisoners. 
 
 We were more fortunate than the men who, on 
 each of the four walks they were allowed to take, 
 were conducted to a different cemetery. They say 
 that variety is the spice of life. If taking a man 
 to a different cemetery each time he goes for a 
 walk constitutes variety, then these men certainly 
 led a spicy existence. 
 
108 CAPTUKED 
 
 Another privilege we considered ourselves en- 
 titled to was the use of the small balcony overlook- 
 ing the street. We officers had no place given us 
 where we could be alone and take a little exercise. 
 Though not of a grasping disposition, when we 
 thought of the life of ease led by the German officers 
 in England, we decided to demand everything it 
 was possible to get, both for ourselves and the men. 
 We were advised that an official application to the 
 Governor of Cologne was necessary. This was 
 made out in writing and signed by us all. 
 
 After nearly two months of waiting, permission 
 to use the balcony was given. During this period 
 we had a visit from Mr. Jackson, the American 
 Ambassadors Secretary, to whom we complained 
 about the delay to our application. The Inspector, 
 who was present, was furious at this complaint 
 which, however, had the desired result of hurrying 
 up a decision. Every fine day after that we moved 
 chairs outside and sat in the sun or walked slowly 
 up and down to get back some of the strength we 
 had lost through months of idleness. The people 
 in the street would often stop to stare at the caged 
 animals pacing up and down in the enclosure in 
 front of their den. Sometimes there would be a 
 new sentry at the gate, who would look up 
 and discover us and yell, " Los ! " — pronounced 
 " Loose " and meaning " Get out ! " 
 
 We would lean over the balcony and laugh at 
 him, while he went in, frothing with rage, to report 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC. 109 
 
 us — only to discover that the balcony was not 
 " verboten." 
 
 Of course, up to this time we had had the run of 
 the courtyard, in which we religiously tried to take 
 exercise every day, but there was such a crowd that 
 we were continually bumping men and jarring our 
 injured members, and finally gave it up. 
 
 The men were allowed to stay in the courtyard 
 till 8 o'clock in summer and 7 o'clock in winter, and 
 according to the season of the year they had to be 
 in bed by 9 or 8 o'clock. As daylight saving was in 
 vogue the lights were seldom turned on in the men's 
 wards, but the officers were not obliged to retire 
 before 10. 
 
 The English Tommy is always cheerful and some- 
 times sentimental. He grouses a lot, but this is 
 superficial. It is a habit quickly acquired on en- 
 tering the army and besides, — it is considered the 
 thing to do. At heart he is a fine fellow and his 
 best qualities are brought out under the trying con- 
 ditions of life in a prison hospital. 
 
 After the evening meal the men would often 
 gather in a circle in the courtyard round a man 
 playing a mouth organ, and indulge in a little 
 " close harmony." This crowd would usually be 
 swelled by musically inclined Frenchmen and Rus- 
 sians. Watkins and Hallam considered themselves 
 second only to Caruso and John McCormack and 
 led the singing. These entertainments always 
 started well but had a weak finish. The Police 
 
110 CAPTURED 
 
 Corporal had a strong aversion to (ho English and 
 took a delight in squashing any attempt at amuse- 
 ment on their part. As soon as one of the " barber 
 shop n chords would reach his ears he would order 
 the guard to clear the courtyard at once. There 
 would be a great shouting oi' u Los!" and u Iler- 
 aus!" and all the patients would slink up to their 
 wards. 
 
 The officers in the hospital were allowed the 
 privilege of buying, every night, a tlat watery beer, 
 which was sold in bulk for i'oviy Pfennigs a litre, 
 and was quite harmless. When we sent the money 
 downstairs a woman from the kitchen went to a 
 neighbouring bar and brought back the beer in a 
 large metal flagon. The men soon got wind oi' this 
 and, in the name oi' the officers, would also send 
 down orders for beer. The poor woman had often 
 to make two or three trips io the bar and gathered 
 the impression that the English officers had the 
 Germans u trimmed to a standstill M as far as beer 
 drinking was concerned. 
 
 We subscribed to the Colnische Zeitung (Cologne 
 Gazette) and every night after the evening meal 
 would gather round the table and sip our beer, while 
 some one translated the communiques. We smiled 
 when we read, almost every day, how the English 
 had suffered a "blutige Schlag" (bloody defeat). 
 A successful advance on the part of the Allies was 
 never mentioned, nor were the numbers of any pris- 
 oners taken by us. The British communique* was 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC. Ill 
 
 always cut short, but on one occasion we got a copy 
 of the V 'olkzeitung y in which the censor had been 
 careless and inserted one sentence more of our com- 
 munique than appeared in the Cdlnische Zeitung. 
 This sentence actually stated that we had taken 
 several thousand prisoners. We had war maps 
 cut from the newspapers and also other maps 
 bought for us in the city by Ludwig. These were 
 kept carefully hidden and we never failed to mark 
 <tv(try village that changed hands. We could tell 
 from the mention of new names in the German 
 communiques that, in spite of many a "blutige 
 Schlag," we were advancing. 
 
 We also got news from new arrivals, although 
 these events were few and far between. One day a 
 small, dejected lot of Frenchmen were brought in, 
 who told us that they had carried out a local attack 
 and were returning with twice their own number 
 Of prisoners, whom they were driving before them 
 across No Man's Land. The French machine gun- 
 ners saw only Germans advancing and, thinking it 
 was an attack, opened fire. The Germans in the 
 rear did the same thing, and every man who was 
 caught in this hail of bullets was either killed or 
 wounded. The wounded Frenchmen were collected 
 by the Germans and were very much disgusted with 
 their fate. 
 
 Another reminder we had that the war was still 
 on was the continual appearance of Zeppelins over 
 Cologne. These monster dirigibles would some- 
 
112 CAPTURED 
 
 times fly very low over the hospital, port'onning va- 
 rious evolutions for the benotit of the people in the 
 st roots below. On such occasions we got an excel- 
 lent view oi' the gondolas, machine gun platforms, 
 and other details that wont to make np these ele- 
 ments of dost motion whioh wore reported in the 
 papers to be doing terrible damage in England. 
 At night we would often be awakened by the whirr 
 of propellers, and looking out of the window would 
 soo the black outlines of a Zeppelin silhouetted 
 against the sky and boa ring rod and green lights 
 on the forward gondola. 
 
 Zeppelins starting out for a raid on England 
 usually passed over Cologne. One day, about 4 
 o'clock in the afternoon, the " L33," flying in a west- 
 erly direction, passed so Low over the hospital that 
 I could not refrain front making a detailed sketch 
 of it on the blackboard. When it was finished I 
 slid the front half of the board up to cover the 
 sketch, of whioh 1 was rather proud. The next day 
 we saw by the papers that the "L33" had boon 
 brought down in England. The next time the doc- 
 tor and his assistants oattio io our ward we dis- 
 played the picture of the Zeppelin hearing its num- 
 ber in largo letters on the side, and asked them if 
 they know what had happened to it. They were 
 furious and ordered the picture erased. 
 
 Wilson was a groat ladies 9 man and was always 
 looking out of the window at the houses across the 
 street searching for a girl who would answer when 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC, 11 
 
 <> 
 
 he waved. One day he took rno mysteriously to a 
 little room on the top floor with a ladder leading 
 throng]] a trap door to the attic. Tin's was most 
 exciting. Quietly we walked along the boards ly- 
 ing on the joists until we eame to a plank running 
 across the arched ceiling of the " Grande Salle," or 
 what had been the prayer hall of the school and 
 was now a large ward of eighty beds. We thought 
 of the surprise ire would give the patients if we 
 should slip and crash through the ceiling into the 
 hall below. We eventually reached a window in 
 the front of the hospital, which was directly oppo- 
 site a window of the house across the Street- One 
 of Wilson's lady friends was Standing here and an- 
 swered his signal. He told me that the day be- 
 fore there had been two of them and he wondered 
 where the second one was. We learned from the 
 signs this girl was making that her sister had been 
 arrested for communicating with prisoners of war. 
 A few days later she signalled across to us that she 
 was to suffer the same fate and be, taken away to 
 gaol at 5 o'clock. We were all at a window down- 
 stairs at this hour and waved tier a cheery good-bye 
 although she went away in tears. According to 
 her signals she was to do fourteen days' cells for 
 this terrible crime. 
 
 1 did not have any more exciting escapades with 
 Wilson as, shortly after this, he and Wells were dis- 
 charged from hospital and sent to camp with some 
 of the men who had been wounded on June 2nd and 
 
114 CAPTURED 
 
 were now recovered. I was sorry to see Wells go. 
 He was a Canadian, and at that time I had not 
 fully realised what fine fellows some Englishmen 
 are. The Englishman as a rule is hard to get to 
 know, but once the ice has been broken you find 
 that he makes a very good friend. 
 
 A Canadian that I know was on one occasion 
 walking with an Englishman when they came to a 
 man stooping over picking up something from the 
 ground. The Canadian suggested that the English- 
 man should quietly kick him in the seat of the 
 pants. 
 
 u My dear fellow," replied the Englishman, " I 
 cawn't do that. I haven't been introduced to the 
 chap." 
 
 On August 5th I received my first parcels, which 
 had been sent by my sister from England. It 
 seemed just like Christmas, and I eagerly un- 
 wrapped all the little necessities of life together 
 with what I considered a great number of absolute 
 luxuries. My parcels were a welcome addition to 
 our store of food, as during the two previous 
 months the supplies sent to Moodie and Gray had 
 been very much overtaxed. 
 
 About this time, also, another milestone in my 
 life was passed when, with a huge pair of scissors, 
 the plaster cast was cut away from my arm. The 
 doctor seized me by the wrist and elbow and pro- 
 ceeded to manipulate my arm in what I considered 
 to be a frantic attempt to break the bone. I ex- 
 
PRIVILEGES, ETC. 115 
 
 plained to him, in my very best German, that the 
 ends of bone had not yet joined together, as I could 
 distinctly feel them moving. He did not agree 
 with me and ordered an X-Ray photograph to be 
 taken, followed by a series of hot arm baths to re- 
 store the suppleness of the muscles. I was in the 
 midst of one of these baths when he rushed in carry- 
 ing the photographic plate and dragged me off to 
 the plaster room, where he repeated the operation 
 of two months before. This time I was told that 
 three months would elapse before my arm would be 
 again free from the cast. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 Luxury Under Difficulties 
 
 Before the war, the business firm with which I 
 was connected had done a great deal of buying 
 in Germany. We had a German agent who wrote 
 me a very nice letter asking about my arm, and 
 wanting to know if there was anything he could 
 do for me. I was not allowed to answer this letter 
 but the Inspector did so for me. 
 
 I received, later on, another letter from a Ger- 
 man who was a naturalised American citizen and 
 represented a large firm with whom we had done 
 business. He also asked if there were not some- 
 thing he could do. I was permitted to write an 
 answer on the back of his letter and requested that 
 he should send me, if possible, a couple of English 
 novels and a French dictionary. In a very few 
 days I received these articles together with a box 
 of very good cigars and some cigarettes. This man 
 came to Cologne to see me and spent three days 
 there interviewing officials. He was not even al- 
 lowed to look at me to satisfy himself that I was 
 well, so that he could report to my family. 
 
 One day we were surprised at the arrival of an- 
 other officer named Barnes, of the Canadian Engi- 
 neers, who had been taken prisoner on June 2nd, 
 
 116 
 
LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 117 
 
 but since that date had spent his time in another 
 hospital in Aachen. He had been sent to Lazarett 
 VI to have one of his eyes removed, which had been 
 damaged by the explosion of a bomb, and was 
 placed downstairs in the same room as the French 
 Captain in order to be directly under the care of 
 the head-specialist. 
 
 Barnes managed to give us some new information 
 regarding the events of June 2nd, and I was par- 
 ticularly interested in hearing that he had been in 
 the hospital with a man named Martin who was 
 also an officer of the 4th C. M. R. and who had been 
 badly wounded in both legs. 
 
 Barnes' eye was removed by the head specialist, 
 who used the operation as the subject for a lecture 
 to some students who came regularly to the hos- 
 pital for instruction. All he had to deaden the 
 pain was a very badly applied local anaesthetic. 
 The students sat around in a semi-circle while the 
 doctor snipped each nerve and muscle separately, 
 calling out their names and going into explanations 
 as to their functions, while Barnes drew blood from 
 his lower lip with his teeth in trying to keep from 
 screaming out with the pain. 
 
 From this time on we nicknamed Barnes " Cy- 
 clops/' a name which stuck to him until he left the 
 hospital. 
 
 Across the hall from our ward was a bathroom 
 containing four baths. It was in charge of two 
 Russians, who kept the place very clean and always 
 
118 CAPTURED 
 
 had hot water on hand, which was provided by two 
 small stoves in the room. Nearly all the beds on 
 our floor were occupied by Russians, many of whom 
 had filthy diseases. We objected strongly to bath- 
 ing after these men, no matter how well the tubs 
 had been scrubbed out. We were afraid of having 
 our wounds infected, and finally made arrange- 
 ments to have a bath curtained off at one end of the 
 room for the exclusive use of the Englishmen. As 
 soon as this had been effected an assistant doctor 
 and all the sanitaires located on our floor admired 
 the arrangement so much that they decided to seize 
 this bath for their own private use. Hallam had 
 an altercation with a sanitaire over this and just 
 restrained himself from striking the man. He got 
 into a great deal of trouble and, as a direct result, 
 was later on sent to camp. We eventually suc- 
 ceeded in having another bath allotted us. 
 
 Soap was non-existent in the hospital. A greasy 
 sort of substance in tins, somewhat similar to soft 
 soap, was supplied for washing purposes. The 
 Russians in charge of the bathroom used to do our 
 laundry, but this soft soap stained everything a 
 weird combination of green and yellow. 
 
 We were always looking for something to vary 
 the monotony of our existence and one day thought 
 of investigating the pig pen. The man in charge 
 had no objections to our doing this and we went 
 inside. Some one noticed an egg lying on the straw 
 and slipped it quietly into his pocket. We thor- 
 
FOUR CHEERFUL BRITISH PRISONERS. IN THE CENTRE — 
 WATKINS (WEARING SWEATER) AND BARCLAY. 
 
LUXURY QNDEB DIPPICULTIE 119 
 
 oughly invent jVafod f.h<: jn'r>s, <:<)\\<t<;t'\n% about, fivs 
 eggs in doing SO. The next morning, with thfi as- 
 sistance of our Little spirit stove, re had a wonder- 
 ful breakfast and laid plant for the next day. For 
 nearly a wwik \\m>m pign got more attention than 
 they bad ever had En their lives, and we had better 
 breakfasts than we had had since being taken pri* 
 oners, whereas the Inspector, who had been count- 
 ing on these eggs for bin own meal*, grew more 
 furiotu every day. We made the horrible mistake 
 of taking all the egg* we could hud and a large pad- 
 loci was pul on the pig pot 
 
 Towards the latter part of August parcels began 
 to arrive for all the Canadians who had been taken 
 prisoner on the 2nd of June. The Canadian Bed 
 Cross parcels were particularly welcomed by those 
 men whose families were not in a position to keep 
 them supplied with a continual stream of food. 
 Those of as who had friends En England were espe- 
 cially fortunate En receiving parcels both from this 
 source and from our homes En Canada. 
 
 The englishmen envied the lot of the Colonials 
 as they said that we were looked after better than 
 they were, both En Prance and in Germany, Any 
 little nnevenness in the distribution of parcels was 
 overcome by the generosity of those who received 
 more than their share, and men who did not get 
 sufficient food to supplement the rations Issued by 
 the hospital, and any new prisoners who arrived 
 destitute and hungry, were always taken care of by 
 
120 CAPTURED 
 
 their more fortunate friends. Many of us received 
 parcels of bread sent twice a week from Switzer- 
 land but, unfortunately, owing to the fact that the 
 censorship at Wahn was so slow, in most cases the 
 bread arrived in a mouldy condition. Prisoners in 
 camp received the Swiss bread in excellent shape 
 as the parcels went direct from Switzerland to the 
 various camps, where they were censored and at 
 once given to the addressee. On rare occasions we 
 received a loaf or two of bread in perfect condition, 
 although very hard and dry, and then we celebrated 
 accordingly. But more often I have seen a parcel 
 of Swiss bread, which had lain in Wahn for a 
 month, arrive with the centre all eaten out and 
 sometimes containing a rat's nest. 
 
 It was well that our parcels had begun to arrive 
 at more frequent intervals, as the hospital rations 
 were cut down owing to the great shortage of food 
 and the failure of the potato crop in Germany. 
 Horsemeat was a luxury which we got very rarely, 
 and fish appeared on the menu more often than 
 ever. Another substitute for meat was a species 
 of large sausage, containing mostly bones and 
 gristle, and made from all the otherwise unusable 
 parts of an animal. It seemed to us that there were 
 about eight meatless days in every week. 
 
 Loefelsind, the little German who had charge of 
 the hospital linen, and whose home was in Cologne, 
 told me that, short as our rations were, we got more 
 
LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 121 
 
 and far better food than was allowed the civil popu- 
 lation of the city. He had a wife and three chil- 
 dren and their weekly allowance of meat was not 
 enough to make a decent meal for the average man, 
 while the supply of milk and other nourishing foods 
 was not enough to keep the children healthy. This 
 state of things prevailed in every large city in Ger- 
 many, but the farmers, in spite of strict regulations 
 as to reporting the total output of their farms, man- 
 aged to secrete a certain portion and live fairly 
 comfortably. 
 
 Moodie had told us, a month or so before, that 
 some one had sent him a small phonograph and 
 records. We had been eagerly looking forward to 
 the time when these should arrive and about the 
 first of September the parcel came. We happened 
 to be in the middle of a meal, but food was forgotten 
 for the time being, and we played every record 
 through behind closed doors and windows and with 
 a fine needle, as we had not received permission to 
 use the phonograph in the ward. We knew that 
 trouble might ensue if this were not obtained, and 
 did not dare ask permission as we were " in wrong " 
 with the hospital authorities, and knew that it 
 would be refused on some technical grounds, such 
 as that of disturbing the other patients in the hos- 
 pital. The phonograph and records were always 
 kept carefully hidden under a bed when not in use. 
 From that time on it was worked overtime and al- 
 
122 CAPTURED 
 
 ways with the greatest care. If a footstep were 
 heard in the hall the machine was immediately shut 
 off and pushed under the bed. 
 
 On Sept. 19th the plaster was removed from my 
 arm for the second time, and Dr. Meyer, remem- 
 bering that my statement about the arm not hav- 
 ing been healed on the previous occasion had 
 proved correct, asked me whether I thought the 
 bone had knitted. I was not sure, but told him 
 that I thought at last it had joined up but was in 
 a very weak condition. He ordered an X-Ray pho- 
 tograph to be taken, then he passed on to the next 
 ward saying that he would return when the plate 
 had been developed. He went home that day with- 
 out seeing me again or examining the photograph, 
 and left no instructions as to what should be done 
 with my arm over night. I went to the X-Ray 
 room myself and saw by the photograph that the 
 bones had grown together along a splinter, but that 
 the junction was composed of an almost transpar- 
 ent substance, and I knew that if I rolled on my 
 arm in the night it would probably be broken 
 again. Fortunately a good Samaritan in the shape 
 of Schwester Edelberta, who was horrified to think 
 that nothing had been done for me, secured a splint 
 which she applied herself. The next day the doc- 
 tor was delighted when he saw the X-Ray photo- 
 graph and congratulated me on my good fortune, 
 saying that only one per cent of fractures of this 
 nature were healed without a graft operation simi- 
 
LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 123 
 
 lar to that performed on Gray. He began to 
 massage my arm vigorously, which at once caused 
 an abscess by shifting the splinters of bone which 
 were still in the scar. He applied a splint and 
 said he would wait a month for the bone to 
 strengthen before he operated to remove the splin- 
 ters. 
 
 Moodie also got his foot out of plaster, and a 
 shoemaker was called in from the town to make a 
 special boot with a cork rise on account of the 
 shortness of his leg. He at once began to talk of 
 going to camp ; and Gray laid plans to go with him 
 as there were rumours of another Swiss Commis- 
 sion, and he thought that he would have more 
 chance of being accepted in camp than in hospital, 
 where he had failed once before. He asked Dr. 
 Meyer's permission to leave with Moodie, but in 
 order to obtain this he had to sign a certificate to 
 the effect that he took all responsibility in case his 
 arm, which was not properly healed, should be 
 broken while at camp. Tilley was also quite well 
 again, and arrangements were made for all three to 
 leave together. 
 
 Before our happy home was broken up we de- 
 cided to go " right in off the deep end " and hold a 
 big dinner. We had never been extravagant with 
 our food before, but we felt that this was an occa- 
 sion which demanded it. The French captain and 
 Barnes were invited to come and to supply any 
 delicacies that they wished to contribute. 
 
124 CAPTUKED 
 
 The French captain promised a whole chicken 
 tinned in jelly which he had received from Paris. 
 The instructions said that it had to be placed un- 
 der a cold water tap one hour before eating. He 
 was very precise, and after asking the exact hour at 
 which we intended to dine, said he would be on 
 hand with the chicken ready to eat. 
 
 Ludwig was given careful instructions a few days 
 before the event and secured for us two bottles of 
 Madeira and a bottle of Port, which were hidden 
 under the mattresses till the time came to open 
 them. The day previous we spent some time print- 
 ing the menus — one copy for each guest — deco- 
 rated with the flags of the Allies as far as red and 
 blue ink would permit. We secured two tables 
 which, when placed together, would give plenty of 
 room for six, and calculated the number of plates 
 necessary to avoid having to use any twice in suc- 
 cession. Watkins promptly stole the extra ones 
 from the kitchen. 
 
 We dressed for parade as completely as we could, 
 but the French captain outshone us all in his blue 
 tunic and red breeches. My tunic had shrunk so 
 much in the wash that I could hardly button it, 
 and the sleeve was slit up so as to enable me to put 
 it on over my plaster cast. The others were in a 
 similar plight, but in spite of our peculiar appear- 
 ance we felt " all dressed up and no place to go." 
 
 Moodie, being the senior, was made chairman, 
 
LUXUKY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 125 
 
 and before dinner he put us each in charge of a 
 certain course, preferably the one we had shown 
 ourselves to be more or less expert in cooking. 
 
 At 7 o'clock we sat down and glanced at the 
 menus in a careless manner as though we had never 
 seen them before, and had not spent most of the 
 last three days sneaking down to the basement and 
 smuggling up the tins containing the food an- 
 nounced thereon. 
 
 The menu was as below. It was printed in 
 French with many side remarks of a more or less 
 witty nature. Unfortunately my copy was taken 
 away from me on leaving Germany, but the follow- 
 ing details I have secured from one of my letters 
 home. 
 
 Consomme 
 
 Mock Turtle Soup 
 
 Poisson 
 
 Sardines 
 
 Entree 
 
 Creamed Shrimps 
 
 Piece de Resistance 
 
 Cold Chicken and Sausage 
 
 Tomatoes Peas 
 
 Fruits Confits 
 
 With Cream and Custard 
 
 Entremets 
 
 Welsh Rarebit 
 
126 CAPTUKED 
 
 Dessert 
 
 Dates Raisins 
 
 Biscuits Cheese 
 
 Cafe au Lait 
 
 Vins 
 
 Madere Porto 
 
 To cook this wonderful banquet we had but one 
 tiny spirit stove with two burners, one medium and 
 one small saucepan and one toy frying pan. 
 
 While one course was being eaten the cook for 
 the next would be dancing around the stove, burn- 
 ing his fingers, and rushing to the table at odd in- 
 tervals to snatch a bit of the course in progress. 
 It was the most exciting meal I ever ate. Watkins 
 was working against time and our appetites trying 
 to wash, in a pail of hot water, the dishes for the 
 course about to be served. We expected the room 
 to be raided and all our little secret luxuries dis- 
 covered, but decided to throw everything to the 
 winds and enjoy ourselves. Fortunately, no one 
 came in to disturb us. 
 
 After dinner we drank the health of everybody in 
 turn. Speeches were made alternately in French 
 and English (on this occasion German was barred) 
 and at the conclusion of the evening we all voted 
 unanimously in favour of a similar dinner with the 
 same guests to be held after the war if it could 
 possibly be arranged. (Here's hoping that it will 
 be possible.) 
 
LUXURY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 127 
 
 A few days after this Moodie, Gray and Tilley 
 departed for camp, and left me in sole possession 
 of the ward. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 Alone 
 
 I never felt so downhearted in my life as the day 
 I was left alone in that hospital ward. The room 
 seemed twice as large as before. My locker and 
 the floor around my bed were cluttered up with 
 articles, such as empty tin boxes for sugar, or glass 
 jars for holding butter when taken from the tin, 
 all of which had been the precious possessions of 
 the boys who had left, and had been donated to me 
 as too bulky to carry. The drawers of the other 
 lockers stood open as they had been left in the last 
 hurried search. Discarded hospital clothes lay on 
 the untidy beds and the floor was strewn with torn 
 up letters and other papers. I asked Watkins to 
 tidy the room and fled from the scene. 
 
 I spent most of that day with the French Cap- 
 tain and Barnes until I was summoned to the par- 
 cel room to examine two mysterious packages which 
 had arrived for me. They turned out to be a phono- 
 graph and records which had been sent by a very 
 kind uncle. This was a piece of luck, that, the day 
 Moodie departed with our chief source of amuse- 
 ment, the gap should be filled in such an oppor- 
 tune way. The excitement was as great as on the 
 
 128 
 
ALONE 129 
 
 day of the arrival of the first phonograph, because 
 here we had a brand new lot of records we had 
 never heard which had to be tried over at once. 
 
 The phonograph was a very compact little ma- 
 chine, exactly the same as the one we had had at 
 battalion headquarters in the trenches. It was 
 constructed in two halves joined by hinges. The 
 lower part contained the machinery, and the upper 
 part, which stood upright when the instrument 
 was playing, held a concave metal sound-reflector. 
 When closed up, the phonograph could be locked 
 and carried about by a suit-case handle arranged 
 for the purpose. 
 
 I could not see why a phonograph should not be 
 allowed in the hospital, so braved the lion in his 
 den and told the Inspector that I had one which I 
 wanted permission to use occasionally in the men's 
 wards as well as my own. After some arguing this 
 was obtained, and I came to the conclusion that you 
 never know what you can do till you try. 
 
 Shortly after this I arranged for a little con- 
 cert in the ward which had the greatest number of 
 Englishmen in bed. All those from the other 
 wards who could come were invited to do so. I 
 saw the sanitaire on duty, who happened to be al- 
 most human and promised to say nothing if the 
 men smoked, provided I would see that all traces 
 were removed when the concert was over. Barnes 
 promised to assist me, both in running the phono- 
 graph and supplying the very necessary cigarettes. 
 
130 CAPTURED 
 
 The news had spread like wildfire, and when we 
 appeared I think every Englishman in the hospital, 
 who was not at death's door, was seated on the beds 
 or on the floor of that ward. They were delighted 
 when they heard that they could smoke. This was 
 not allowed in the building. Goodness only knows 
 why, because it was very modern and absolutely 
 fire-proof — and the bed patients had the first com- 
 fortable smoke they had had since entering the hos- 
 pital. An English Tommy would die without a 
 "fag" and the only chance he had to light up in 
 Lazarett VI was at night. 
 
 The sanitaire on duty had a nasty habit of burst- 
 ing into the rooms and suddenly switching on the 
 lights, in order to catch the men at this trick. He 
 always found them apparently fast asleep, and 
 never knew that most of them were holding a 
 lighted cigarette under the covers. The tell-tale 
 holes burnt in the bed clothes were what always 
 caused the trouble. 
 
 The concert commenced about three o'clock. I 
 didn't want to bore the men and had counted on 
 only playing the machine for an hour or so, but we 
 didn't stop till six o'clock when the appearance of 
 supper broke up the party. Never had musical 
 artists performed for a more enthusiastic audience. 
 Shrieks of laughter greeted every joke and every- 
 one joined in and sang all the better known popular 
 songs. Some of these were called for over and over 
 again, We conclude^ the performance with a dou- 
 
ALONE 131 
 
 ble song from a musical comedy, in which God Save 
 the King, quietly sung by the chorus, formed the 
 background for a popular lay. We all felt as 
 though we should be standing at attention. 
 
 Other similar concerts were afterwards held in 
 different wards and helped to brighten our all too 
 monotonous existence. 
 
 Our regular Sunday night services went on as 
 usual, and by this time I had graduated to the po- 
 sition of pastor. I must confess that I didn't make 
 a very good one. I am a Presbyterian and my 
 knowledge of the English church service was lim- 
 ited. Before leaving, Moodie had written out for 
 me a list of the prayers in use and the pages on 
 which they were to be found. During the week 
 Watkins selected the hymns and practised them 
 over with a Canadian sergeant who was wounded 
 in the head and who managed to do fairly well at 
 the little organ in the chapel. Each Sunday I went 
 to the service with every finger of my good hand 
 marking a place in the book. I have often watched 
 ministers in church looking up places in the prayer 
 book during the singing of the hymns and followed 
 their excellent example. Only once did I fall 
 down. It was rather difficult turning the pages 
 with one hand, and on one occasion I absolutely 
 could not find the collect for the day. I had to lean 
 over and ask the page from Barnes who was seated 
 in the front row. 
 
 My meals were lonely affairs but I used to amuse 
 
132 CAPTURED 
 
 myself trying to invent new dishes. I was very 
 occasionally given a boiled egg as a treat and in- 
 stead of a ration of meat. I think the cook's watch 
 must have been shell-shocked because sometimes the 
 egg would be almost raw and sometimes quite hard. 
 A single egg is not very filling so I decided to give 
 it that property, if possible, without losing the 
 flavour. The result of my experiments can be gath- 
 ered from the following quotation from one of my 
 letters : 
 
 " I think I have invented a new dish to get the 
 most benefit out of an egg. We sometimes get them 
 (boiled). Take three or four soda crackers, ac- 
 cording to the quantity required, and pulverise 
 them thoroughly (this was usually done with the 
 clenched fist). Add enough (condensed) milk to 
 make the whole a thick creamy mass, butter the 
 size of an egg, then stir in the egg thoroughly 
 minced if already boiled. Add a pinch of salt and 
 cook until the whole is about the consistency of 
 scrambled eggs. The result is wonderful. One egg 
 makes enough for about three people. Use a raw 
 egg if available ! " 
 
 The supply of cabbage seemed to run out and we 
 were given instead a very tough lettuce. This, 
 when sprinkled with salt and pepper and covered 
 with oil from a tin of sardines, was quite palatable. 
 
 On Thursday, Oct. 12th, Dr. Meyer informed me 
 that the following Tuesday he would operate to re- 
 move the splinters from my arm. On Friday we 
 
ALONE 133 
 
 heard the Swiss Commission was coming soon to 
 the hospital and I decided to present myself. I re- 
 membered the trouble that Gray had had, and con- 
 fided in the doctor that I wished to go to Switzer- 
 land where I would be able to see my family. He 
 agreed that my arm would be useless for a year, but 
 said he would not let me see the Commission until 
 after he had operated. 
 
 The next day there was a strong rumour — we 
 were never given any official notice — that the 
 Commission would visit the hospital on Tuesday. 
 The doctor was unable to operate on Sunday or 
 Monday ; but agreed to do it that very morning if I 
 had eaten no breakfast, as otherwise it might be 
 very dangerous. I was taking no chances on miss- 
 ing the operation so said I was starving of hunger. 
 I had in reality just finished a royal breakfast of 
 cereals and fried sausage. 
 
 The loneliness of my position was impressed on 
 me more than ever as I lay in bed for the three 
 days following the operation. During this time I 
 could not sleep and was given morphia every night. 
 I thought a great deal of home and the approach- 
 ing Christmas season, and took a great deal of sat- 
 isfaction in enclosing, in the letter I wrote while in 
 bed, a cheque to buy presents for some of the 
 friends who had been so good to me. I was for- 
 tunate in having my cheque-book in my pocket at 
 the time I was captured. 
 
 On Tuesday afternoon I was told that the Swiss 
 
134 CAPTURED 
 
 Commission had arrived and that I was to get up 
 and go to the French Captain's room and wait till 
 I was sent for. Barnes was to see the Commission, 
 too, and we could not concentrate our minds on any 
 one thing as we waited for the time for our fate to 
 be decided. At length the Inspector appeared at 
 the door and beckoned to Barnes who went out, 
 only to reappear in a few moments wearing a smile 
 from ear to ear. We knew that he had passed. I 
 was sent for almost immediately. 
 
 In the centre of the Grande Salle was a group 
 of patients and German doctors. In their midst 
 I could distinguish the three Swiss doctors by their 
 high blue caps with the long patent leather peaks. 
 I was taken to one side while a sanitaire removed 
 the bandages from my arm and displayed a deep 
 gash stuffed with iodoform gauze. Presently a 
 Swiss doctor approached, examined my arm, and 
 asked several questions regarding the loss of move- 
 ment in my hand. He was very nice and spoke 
 English fluently. It turned out that he had been 
 in Canada and had visited in several cities which I 
 knew quite well. It was a strange feeling, talking 
 to a friendly neutral who was in a position to aid 
 you. Dr. Meyer brought up the other two doctors 
 and explained my case to them, adding that I was 
 very anxious to get to Switzerland to see my wife 
 and family! They held a short consultation, and 
 then gave some instructions in German to an or- 
 derly who sat at a desk writing. The Inspector 
 
ALONE 135 
 
 whispered in my ear "felicitations" (congratula- 
 tions). I had passed the first Commission. I 
 hardly knew whether to laugh or cry. I went back 
 to the room closely followed by the Inspector, who 
 grabbed the French Captain and urged him to pre- 
 sent himself for examination. He was finally per- 
 suaded to go, and came dashing back in a moment 
 to undress. I never saw a man remove his clothes 
 so quickly. He was gone a long time and was very 
 dejected when he returned. Shrugging his shoul- 
 ders he said that the Swiss doctors had been very 
 nice to him but had told him that he was too far re- 
 covered to be accepted. 
 
 When the excitement had subsided we talked 
 over the idea of all living together, as Barnes and I 
 had been told that we would not be sent away for 
 re-examination in Constance for about three weeks. 
 The matter was decided, and in the course of the 
 next day or two I moved down, bag, but no baggage. 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 The French Captain 
 
 The room occupied by the French Captain and 
 Barnes had been, before the war, the office of the 
 head mistress of the school. It opened off the 
 Grande Salle and had two windows overlooking the 
 courtyard. Just inside the door, and on the right, 
 was a small hand basin. Along the same wall, and 
 in the corner next a window, stood my bed and 
 locker. Against the opposite wall stood the other 
 two beds at the foot of which, and between them, 
 was a desk piled with books. The little enclosure 
 thus made contained an arm-chair and two lockers. 
 A table between my bed and the basin held a back- 
 gammon board, a few dishes and the phonograph. 
 All this furniture so completely filled the room that 
 when you walked in it was almost necessary to 
 back out like a crab. 
 
 The French Captain was a charming man of 
 about forty years of age. He had entered Lazarett 
 VI when it was opened about the end of 1914. 
 Since that time he had occupied the same room 
 and had there recovered in solitude from his very 
 serious wounds. He was an indefatigable worker 
 and as soon as he was aWe, commenced the study 
 
 136 
 
THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 137 
 
 of French law in some books which he had ordered 
 from Paris. For a year and a half he lived almost 
 alone and kept himself from going mad by very 
 hard reading. In sheer desperation he had taken 
 up the study of German with a sanitaire and had 
 even attempted English by himself. The latter he 
 gave up until he commenced again with Moodie. 
 His habits were well denned; every day at pre- 
 cisely the same hour he did the same thing, whether 
 it was the study of a certain language or a walk on 
 the balcony. 
 
 By the middle of 1916 he was well enough to go 
 to camp but he managed to stay on because he 
 took his studies very seriously, and thought that, 
 in his little room in hospital, he would have a bet- 
 ter opportunity for reading than in camp, where he 
 would probably be placed in a room with six or 
 seven other men. 
 
 His progress in English was remarkable but, in 
 spite of that, our conversations were usually held 
 in French. The only time he voluntarily spoke 
 English was when we were all in bed. Just as 
 Barnes and I were trying to get to sleep he would 
 come out with some long sentence he had been plan- 
 ning for five or ten minutes. 
 
 Like all other Frenchmen he had an aversion to 
 having the window open at night. He insisted that, 
 being near the door — which was always closed — 
 he felt a draught. My bed was right in front of 
 the window in question, but we humoured him and 
 
138 CAPTURED 
 
 went to bed with the windows closed and the cur- 
 tains drawn. As soon as he was asleep one of us 
 would slip out of bed and quietly open the window. 
 
 One evening after supper we were sitting, smok- 
 ing and discussing various subjects, when the con- 
 versation drifted around to home. He told us that 
 he had lived in Lille, where his regiment, the 43rd 
 Infantry, had been stationed. He had no family 
 but lived alone in a small house. His two chief 
 sources of amusement were his horse and his 
 library. He railed bitterly at the Huns who were 
 probably occupying his house and destroying his 
 books. We led him on to tell us his experiences 
 since the war broke out. 
 
 He told us that when war was declared he was 
 on leave, and motoring with some friends in North 
 ern France. He was at once recalled to join his 
 regiment, and had just time to draw his money from 
 the bank and pack his kit before departing for Bel- 
 gium. 
 
 The French army was fighting a rear-guard ac- 
 tion, and near Namur the 43rd was the last to be 
 retired. His battalion was opposed by four regi- 
 ments of German Guards and before their advance 
 the battalion was retreating one company at a time. 
 His company was the last to move, and as they lay 
 in the hastily dug trench they saw a whole squad- 
 ron of German cavalry, which was dismounted, 
 and awaiting orders in what they considered a con- 
 cealed position. Four salvos from the famous 
 
THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 139 
 
 " 75's " annihilated them before they could mount 
 and move off. Unfortunately the guns were all too 
 scarce and the German hordes moved on. 
 
 When orders came for his company to retire, the 
 Captain stayed with the last section to prevent a 
 disorderly retreat. Most of the men of that sec- 
 tion were killed and our friend fell shot through 
 the jaw, the lungs and the body. The enemy passed 
 over the trench and a German officer, seeing the 
 Frenchman lying helpless, whipped out his re- 
 volver and shot him in the thigh. 
 
 A German medical officer who passed by a little 
 later, told him he would be dead in the morning, 
 that there was no use doing anything for him, and 
 giving him a half bottle of stolen champagne, left 
 him to die. 
 
 For three days nobody came near the place until 
 finally a Belgian peasant, probably searching for 
 valuables on the dead, put him in a rough two- 
 wheeled wagon and took him back to the farm. 
 There he lay for three weeks with no medical atten- 
 tion till, eventually, the Germans found him and re- 
 moved him to a hospital in Belgium. 
 
 When examined by the doctors he said that the 
 wound in his thigh was caused by a shot from a 
 German officer's revolver as he lay wounded in a 
 trench. This statement was scouted as a lie, for 
 they said that no German officer would do such a 
 thing! On his medical history sheet there was 
 detailed account of the treatment of every wound, 
 
14d CAPTURED 
 
 but this one — which was the most serious of all, 
 and nearly cost him the loss of his leg — was not 
 even mentioned. 
 
 When he was well enough to be moved he was 
 sent to Lazarett VI which had just been opened, 
 and there he had lived for almost two years. 
 
 The first mail that left the hospital after I had 
 passed the Swiss Commission was on October 21st. 
 On that day I sent a post card home saying that 
 there was every possibility of my going to Switzer- 
 land, and asking that my parcels should be stopped 
 until further notice. This card did not reach Eng- 
 land till Dec. 27th. It must have been held for 
 over a month, and for no apparent reason, except 
 that the Germans did not want the supply of food 
 coming into the country to be decreased. 
 
 Every third day since my operation the wound 
 had been carefully dressed. There was a great 
 shortage of dressings in the hospital and all band- 
 ages were washed and used over and over again. 
 My arm became infected from, I believe, a dirty 
 bandage and I was suddenly laid up for about a 
 week with a bad attack of erysipelas. 
 
 I grew very impatient at getting no news as to 
 when we were to leave for Constance; I could not 
 settle down to work and almost gave up the study 
 of French altogether. Most of my time was spent 
 in discussing with Barnes the possibility of being 
 refused by the second Commission. He was sure 
 to go as he had lost one eye, but my case was doubt- 
 
LIEUT. DOUGLAS, THE FRENCH CAPTAIN AND LIEUT. BARNES IN 
 THE COURTYARD OF THE HOSPITAL AT COLOGNE. 
 
THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 141 
 
 ful. He kept me in good spirits by continually 
 telling me how bad my arm was. 
 
 At 2.30 p. M. on Nov. 14th an orderly dashed into 
 our room and told us to be ready to leave for Con- 
 stance at 3 o'clock. This was very short notice and 
 we had a lot to do. It took at least half an hour to 
 get out of my hospital clothes and into my uniform. 
 Besides that, I had some packing to do and wished 
 to make arrangements for the disposal of my par- 
 cels in case I should not come back. During that 
 half hour pandemonium reigned supreme in our 
 room. We were so excited and happy that we 
 really did not care much whether we took any bag- 
 gage with us or not. 
 
 We hastily donated to the French Captain and 
 others articles of which they were in need, and 
 which could be replaced quite easily if we got to 
 Switzerland. I half expected to be returned to 
 the hospital in about a week's time, so left instruc- 
 tions w T ith the French Captain to hold my parcels 
 against return. If I were accepted I said I would 
 let him know, and he promised to see that the most 
 needy men in the hospital, but preferably the Eng- 
 lishmen, should get the benefit of this extra supply 
 of food. 
 
 We had hardly started to pack when we got or- 
 ders to send our baggage downstairs to be searched. 
 This order was closely followed by another demand- 
 ing our immediate appearance in the Inspector's 
 office. He informed us that the increase in pay, 
 
142 CAPTURED 
 
 which we had been given during the last two or 
 three months, had not been agreed to by the British 
 Government and that we would have to pay back 
 the difference before we would be allowed to go to 
 Switzerland. Barnes had no money, but fortu- 
 nately I had enough to pay for both of us. We 
 were each given a very official receipt, and I got in 
 notes the balance which stood to my credit. These 
 notes were later discounted in Switzerland at the 
 rate of 28 per cent. 
 
 The Police Corporal was in charge of the search 
 of our baggage and removed my precious steel hel- 
 met, saying that it was war material. He told us 
 that we were to leave behind all photographs, let- 
 ters or papers of any description. These were to 
 be placed in an envelope bearing our name and regi- 
 ment and after being censored would be forwarded 
 to us if we went to Switzerland. I complied with 
 this but kept in my pocket the receipt the Inspector 
 had just given me, my cheque-book and little diary. 
 
 The hall was crowded with people to see us off. 
 Schwester Edelberta, whom we had not seen for 
 two weeks, came to say good-bye; she was crying 
 and told us that her brother had been killed. About 
 ten Englishmen formed the party leaving that day. 
 There was a great deal of shaking of hands and giv- 
 ing of verbal messages — written messages were 
 forbidden — for men who were already in Switzer- 
 land. Just before we left one poor fellow came up 
 to me and said that he had been passed by the pre- 
 
THE FRENCH CAPTAIN 143 
 
 vious Commissi on when it had visited Wahn. The 
 day the party left there for Constance he was sent 
 out to work and thus missed his opportunity of be- 
 ing seen by the second Commission. He had since 
 been sent to our hospital but arrived just after the 
 Swiss doctors had made their last visit. There 
 was nothing for him to do but wait till they came 
 again. 
 
 I could not help comparing this happy group of 
 men who filed out of the hospital door and climbed 
 into an ambulance to the similar group that had ar- 
 rived, weary and dejected, on June 4th. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 Constance 
 
 The ambulance took us to Lazaret I, another hos- 
 pital for prisoners in Cologne — where, after a 
 short wait, a few more men were added to our party 
 and we were whirled off to the railway station. We 
 were met by Red Cross orderlies who were very 
 kind, and assisted in carrying the baggage of those 
 prisoners who were too weak to do so for them- 
 selves. The Unteroffizier in command of our guard 
 had a railway warrant for a certain number of pris- 
 oners and our heads were counted as we passed 
 through the wicket. We were obliged to wait for 
 about half an hour in the huge hall, but chairs were 
 brought for most of us and the rest sat on their suit- 
 cases, or on the floor. 
 
 We w r ere eventually led into a second-class res- 
 taurant where we found a little group of English 
 officers seated at one end of a long table. Most of 
 these men were from the same camp and had much 
 luggage in the shape of cages of tame canaries, 
 home-made musical instruments and such other ar- 
 ticles as had served to while away the time during 
 their long punishment. After buying a few war 
 
 144 
 
CONSTANCE 145 
 
 cakes and a cup of coffee, we sat around and talked 
 until we were taken out on the station platform. 
 
 At 7 o'clock a train, loaded with prisoners from 
 various camps, pulled into the station. We officers 
 were allotted certain carriages and climbed on 
 board to seek room in some of the compartments 
 which were not completely filled. 
 
 By a very strange coincidence Barnes and I got 
 into a compartment containing Moodie and Gray 
 and also Addie Sime, whom I had not seen since 
 our long chat in the trenches on June 1st. We had 
 a happy reunion: everybody talked at once and it 
 was worse than any women's sewing meeting that 
 was ever held ! 
 
 No one slept much that night for the compart- 
 ment was too crowded, and besides we had too much 
 to say. We talked well on into the night, catching 
 occasional dim glimpses of the Rhine and some of 
 its famous old castles. We all regretted very much 
 that we were not making this trip in the day-time, 
 because those who had been in Germany before told 
 us that the scenery was wonderful. It was unani- 
 mously decided, however, that we would much pre- 
 fer to study the scenery in Switzerland. 
 
 We had all brought tinned food to last us for two 
 or three days, at the end of which time we expected 
 to be on our way back to camp or hospital, or mak- 
 ing our way to the promised land where tinned food 
 was not required. At about 12 o'clock we decided 
 to have a little feed. One of the men produced a 
 
146 CAPTURED 
 
 loaf of Swiss bread, others, tins of butter, sausages 
 and tongue. This was washed down with a drink 
 of condensed milk sucked through the hole in the 
 tin — and then we felt much better. 
 
 The next day we were interested in seeing the 
 women and old men working in the fields. Horses 
 were nowhere to be seen, their places being almost 
 invariably taken by oxen. On this occasion I don't 
 remember noticing one man of military age who 
 was not in uniform. 
 
 About noon the train was stopped for an hour on 
 a siding. We were taken to a wooden hut close by, 
 where we were allowed to purchase an excellent 
 meal consisting of soup, very good meat, plenty of 
 potatoes and cabbage. We were all surprised at 
 the huge portions of meat, and came to the con- 
 clusion that this was done to send us from the 
 country with the impression that Germany was far 
 from starving. 
 
 At 11 o'clock that night we arrived at Constance 
 and were thankful to get out on the platform and 
 stretch our legs again. A German doctor asked 
 those who wished to ride in an ambulance to stand 
 on one side. Very few wanted to do this, as they 
 preferred to walk and see something of the town. 
 A doctor, seeing my arm in a sling and thinking I 
 looked weak, placed me on one side with the crip- 
 ples. 
 
 A short drive took us to the garrison barracks 
 and we were shown into a long, narrow, wooden 
 
CONSTANCE 147 
 
 building with a row of beds down each side. At the 
 far end were a few officers who had arrived on an 
 earlier train, and amongst these I was delighted to 
 find Lieut. Hubbs of the 4th C. M. R. He greeted 
 me with the news that I was dead, and wanted to 
 know what I was doing there. I assured him that 
 I was very much alive and probably born to be 
 hung, as they had failed to kill me on the 2nd of 
 June. 
 
 We were each assigned a bed, and proceeded to 
 undress immediately as we were very tired after our 
 28-hour journey in the train. Shortly afterwards 
 the officers who had walked arrived and filled up 
 the unoccupied portion of the room, the overflow 
 being accounted for by placing the senior officers 
 in one of the main buildings which surrounded the 
 parade ground. 
 
 We were actually within the walls of a German 
 barracks containing troops undergoing training. 
 In addition to the main buildings there were rows 
 of other structures, similar to the one we were 
 in, which formed temporary hospital wards for 
 English and French prisoners awaiting the visit of 
 the Swiss Commission. Our building contained 
 fifty beds. At one end was a room in which our 
 baggage was locked, and at the other a small dining- 
 room was walled off by a thin partition. Beyond 
 this was a short passage-way leading to the door, 
 on one side of which was a room occupied by an old 
 nurse, and used as a surgery ; on the other side was 
 
148 CAPTURED 
 
 what had once been a bathroom, but the bath was 
 now chiefly used by the orderlies for washing dishes 
 and clothes. The place was heated by several 
 round stoves for which there seemed to be no lack 
 of coal, and was well lit by numerous windows on 
 both sides. In the corner next the dining room 
 were five beds occupied by the German orderlies. 
 At the foot of each hung a sign-board painted with 
 the name of the owner — Karl, Franz, Fritz, etc. 
 
 The meals were brought in from a central 
 kitchen, and for the first day or two were very 
 good. Unfortunately, something had delayed the 
 arrival of the Swiss Commission, and, as the Ger- 
 man Government did not fancy maintaining the 
 luxury in which we were living, the supply of food 
 was suddenly reduced. The food we had brought 
 with us gave out, and we were reduced to living 
 entirely on the German rations, supplemented by 
 cheese and sardines which we were able to buy at a 
 canteen, established in the barracks by the Swiss 
 Red Cross. No one would tell us how long we were 
 to be kept in Constance, and we were refused per- 
 mission to write and ask to have our parcels and 
 letters forwarded. 
 
 At 8 o'clock every morning coffee, and rolls made 
 of fairly white flour, were placed on the tables in 
 the dining room, and a German orderly would furi- 
 ously stamp up and down the ward shouting 
 " Schweinerei, auf stehen, Kaffee trinken ! " ( Pigs, 
 get up and drink your coffee) . We had nothing to 
 
CONSTANCE 149 
 
 get up for, and tried to persuade our more energetic 
 friends to bring our rolls and cups of coffee along to 
 our beds. There was only one roll apiece. The 
 early bird got the worm or, in this case, an extra 
 roll, and the late-comers had no breakfast. After 
 the first day or two this difficulty was overcome by 
 an orderly walking up the ward every morning and 
 throwing a roll on each bed. He was generally a 
 good shot, and managed to hit everybody in the 
 small of the back or on the shins so as to be sure to 
 wake him up. It was easier to wake a man than to 
 force him to get up, and the orderlies were always 
 angry because we continually lay in bed. One 
 morning Karl put his head in the door and shouted 
 " Commission kommt heute Morgan neun Uhr " 
 (the Commission is coming this morning at nine 
 o'clock). Every man that could, leapt from his 
 bed and was completely dressed in a few minutes. 
 This trick only worked once. 
 
 The next bright idea was to start sweeping the 
 room and raising such a horrible dust that it was 
 impossible to lie in bed with comfort. There were 
 many men with amputated legs who could not get 
 up and escape this form of pleasantry, so for their 
 sakes we usually crawled out of bed. 
 
 When we first arrived the lights were extin- 
 guished at 9 o'clock, but a delegation to the Com- 
 mandant of the camp succeeded in getting us per- 
 mission to stay up until 10 o'clock. Karl and his 
 friends did not think that we should be allowed 
 
150 CAPTUEED 
 
 this privilege and did their best to encourage the 
 motto " Early to bed, early to rise." 
 
 They started the evening performance by occupy- 
 ing the only comfortable chairs in front of the 
 stoves in the dining-room where we gathered to 
 smoke and play cards or chess. No amount of 
 abuse or complaints to the Commandant could 
 oust them. About 8:30 or 9 they would open the 
 windows — this was late in November and early in 
 December — and commence to sweep the dining- 
 room. 
 
 In spite of the unpleasantness and uncertainty of 
 our life we did our best to be cheerful. The little 
 phonograph worked over-time, and many pleasant 
 parties were held around the beds of the more seri- 
 ously wounded officers. 
 
 Jack Firstbrook of Toronto was one of these. He 
 was in the R. F. C. and had been severely wounded 
 in an air duel. One bullet which had pierced his 
 lungs was still lodged in his body and he was in a 
 serious condition. He, Addie Sime and I would 
 often discuss our " home town " and talk of the 
 people we knew and the good times we had had. 
 It was a wonderful thing to be able to transport 
 ourselves out of our surroundings and back to the 
 days when it seemed that the sun was always shin- 
 ing. 
 
 Lieut. Hugh Macdonnell of the Princess Pats, 
 who had played football and hockey for Queen's 
 University, was there, too, and with him I discussed 
 
CONSTANCE 151 
 
 everything from football rules to Canadian politics. 
 
 An English officer had a very tame canary which 
 he would let free in the dining-room while we were 
 sitting playing cards. The bird afforded us much 
 amusement by flying from one person's head to an- 
 other and pecking furiously at the ear of the pas- 
 sive victim, or by perching on the cards which some 
 player was holding in his hand and thus seriously 
 upsetting the game. At one stern word of com- 
 mand from its master the canary would fly back 
 through the open door of its cage. 
 
 On one of these occasions there was a game of 
 bridge in progress and it was noticed that there 
 were only five eyes between the four players ! 
 
 From 10 A. M. till noon, and from 3 to 5 P. M. we 
 were allowed out on the parade ground for exercise. 
 It was a strange sight — that mixture of crippled 
 French and English soldiers — aimlessly going 
 round in a large circle, stopping only now and then 
 to watch a squad of German recruits being put 
 through their drill by an Unteroffizier. 
 
 The German N. C. O., if he wishes to impress a 
 certain command on the mind of a soldier, stands 
 very close to, and directly in front of him, and 
 shouts at the top of his voice. If, after this " gen- 
 tle hint," the soldier makes a mistake, he is brutally 
 cuffed and told to try again. As a result of such 
 treatment the German soldiers are terrified of their 
 N. C. O.'s, and will fight hard as long as they are 
 directly under their command. But let the N. C. 
 
152 CAPTURED 
 
 O's. become casualties and up go the hands of the 
 German soldiers as if by magic. 
 
 Every morning the nurse came through the ward 
 and dressed our wounds. She was a harmless old 
 person who meant well but knew very little about 
 surgery. After she had once roughly poked the 
 iodoform gauze down into my wound, I took the in- 
 struments from her and applied all my own dress- 
 ings. 
 
 We heard some interesting experiences from men 
 who had been taken prisoner at the beginning of 
 the war. One officer had been placed in a men's 
 camp where they refused to recognize his rank. He 
 did not mind this so much as the brutal treatment 
 and the terrible food. He had seen men ruthlessly 
 shot and bayoneted to death for very trivial rea- 
 sons. His life of hardship had given him very bad 
 indigestion and for this reason he had been sent to 
 Constance to be examined by the Commission. He 
 had brought with him two pork pies in order to be 
 sure of having a fit of indigestion when the Com- 
 mission saw him. Unfortunately these were eaten 
 on the occasion of two false alarms about the ar- 
 rival of the Commission. He was returned to Ger- 
 many. 
 
 J Another young officer had lost his arm above the 
 elbow. Every night when we were getting into bed 
 he used to amuse us by waving good-night to those 
 at the other end of the room and saluting the pass- 
 ers-by with his stump. J 
 
CONSTANCE 153 
 
 When we had been in Constance about two weeks 
 we were given our first batch of letters, which we 
 were overjoyed to receive as we felt as though we 
 had been absolutely cut off from the world. After 
 a great deal of discussion permission was also given 
 us to write home. 
 
 About December 1st the Commission actually 
 came. We were shown, one by one, into a room con- 
 taining the Swiss doctors and numerous German 
 doctors and officials. We were examined; notes 
 were taken about our cases and we left the room 
 without being told whether we had been accepted or 
 refused. The next three or four days we spent 
 comparing notes as to which doctors we had seen 
 and what they had said, in an endeavour to find out 
 who had passed and who had failed. The Germans 
 would tell us nothing. One day an Unteroffizier 
 came in with a list of six or seven names. This was 
 read out and the officers mentioned were told to 
 pack up and leave for camp at once. Almost every 
 day a similar list came in and each of us trembled 
 for fear his name might be included. 
 
 Gray, Moodie and Addie Sime were victims of 
 these lists. 
 
 On December the 5th we were allowed to wire 
 for our parcels and the Germans told us we would 
 probably spend Christmas in Constance, as our Gov- 
 ernment would not agree to the terms of the ex- 
 change. 
 
 One day I was talking to a German Unteroffizier 
 
154 CAPTUKED 
 
 who had a great deal to do with us on account of 
 his knowledge of English. \ The conversation 
 drifted around to who started the war. He, of 
 course, insisted that England was to blame. 
 
 " Do you yourself, in the bottom of your heart, 
 really think that England started the war?" I 
 asked. 
 
 " Well, you know, we've got to believe it," was his 
 reply. There is more truth than poetry in this 
 statement. [ 
 
 On December 12th a lot of parcels, which had 
 been accumulating for us in camp or hospital, ar- 
 rived. They were practically useless as we left the 
 next day for Switzerland. I, particularly, got a 
 very large number, which the Germans tried to per- 
 suade me to leave for them. I refused, and sent to 
 the town and bought a large basket-trunk into 
 which I packed them all to take to Switzerland, 
 whence I hoped to be able to send them back to my 
 less fortunate friends. I got permission to write a 
 postcard to the French Captain in which I told 
 him I was leaving, and asked him to carry out the 
 arrangements about my parcels. 
 
 The day we left, that baggage which had not been 
 examined and sealed in camp was brought in and 
 placed by the owner's bed. We were gathered to- 
 gether and asked by a German Major if we had any 
 written messages from friends in camp, or if we had 
 any gold in our possession. No one spoke. "I 
 
CONSTANCE 155 
 
 take your word, as English officers and gentlemen, 
 that such is the case/' said the Major. 
 
 The Germans have a high respect for the word of 
 an Englishman : I'm afraid the feeling is far from 
 
 mutual. 
 
 Our persons were not searched, but the baggage 
 was thoroughly examined, after which it was 
 packed, labelled and carted off to the station. 
 
 My feelings about this time can be gathered from 
 the following extract from my first letter home after 
 leaving Germany: 
 
 " As you know by now, of course, I am in Switzer- 
 land, or at least I think I am. Every minute I ex- 
 pect to wake up and hear some Hun shouting, i Auf- 
 stehen, Kaffee trinken.' I wrote you from Con- 
 stance but you probably never got the letters. 
 Permission to write was given very grudgingly. 
 We arrived there November 15th. There were 63 
 of us at first. We were there for a month and the 
 whole stay was nothing but a series of disappoint- 
 ments. The first was that the Commission would 
 not be able to see us for some time and we had come 
 prepared for a few days' stay only. All our tinned 
 stuff was left behind in camp or hospital. We had 
 to fall back on the horrible German rations — 
 mostly cabbage, with cabbage on the side as a veg- 
 etable and again as an entree. Suddenly, as a bolt 
 from the blue, a Guillotine list was read out con- 
 taining the names of eight senior officers who were 
 
156 CAPTURED 
 
 to go back to camp. It was some sort of a reprisal, 
 I am sure. 
 
 " We saw the Commission and then no one knew 
 whether he had passed or not. They wouldn't tell 
 us. Guillotine lists became frequent. I managed 
 to escape them all but was still in Constance with 
 thirty-two other officers on Dec. 12 when two lists 
 came in including us all. One party of thirteen 
 was to leave at 6 a. m. on the 13th for one camp, 
 and the rest of us in the evening for another. We 
 weren't very hopeful, but kept cheerful. As soon 
 as the first lot had gone we were told that the rest 
 of us were to leave for Switzerland that night. 
 You never heard such a cheer as went up. We 
 were all running around in our pajamas, shaking 
 hands and hugging each other. Even then we 
 didn't really believe we were going till we got on 
 the train at 6. The train wasn't to leave till 7.50 
 but I suppose they were afraid we might miss it. 
 No — fear ! " 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 Switzerland at Last 
 
 With what a sigh of relief we settled back into 
 the plush seats of that Swiss train ! We were trav- 
 elling in first class carriages just as though we had 
 paid our fare. A very nice Swiss officer, followed 
 by several stretcher-bearers, came through to see 
 that we were all comfortable and asked us if there 
 were anything we wanted. The only thing we 
 could think of was a large brick to hurl at the Ger- 
 mans standing on the station platform, but we did 
 not tell him this. We acted just as though we were 
 dining with wealthy friends whom we hardly knew. 
 
 On the train were 414 English Tommies and 20 
 officers. There was a comfortable seat for every 
 man who could sit up, and there were hospital cars 
 for the stretcher cases. I doubt if, in the whole 
 world, at that moment, there were a happier lot of 
 men. But there wasn't a cheer or any other sign of 
 joy. We were still on German territory and before 
 we crossed the border a wheel might come off the 
 engine or there might be an earthquake. We were 
 taking no chances ! 
 
 Just after the train pulled out of the station we 
 entered Switzerland. We were out of the hands of 
 
 157 
 
158 CAPTURED 
 
 the Huns at last. We looked out of the windows 
 and saw women and children standing in the snow 
 outside their doors, waving' handkerchiefs and 
 shouting, " Vive PAngleterre." A spontaneous 
 cheer w r ent up from every man. It was the most 
 thrilling moment of our lives. 
 
 As we were whirled on through the night the 
 cheering and waving continued until the train 
 made its first stop in a Swiss town. The station 
 platform was packed with people who crowded to 
 the car windows and showered us with flowers, 
 chocolate, cigarettes and cigars. This was carried 
 out not only by the girls in their smart Red Cross 
 uniforms, but many civilians made private dona- 
 tions as well. 
 
 As the train pulled out of the station the men 
 hung out of the windows cheering and waving the 
 Swiss flags that had been given them. It was a 
 wonderful sensation to feel that we were really wel- 
 come in Switzerland. The personal element had 
 recently so absolutely disappeared from our lives 
 that this sudden show of enthusiasm brought lumps 
 to our throats. 
 
 A British Government official had boarded the 
 train and brought with him an armful of London 
 papers. With the exception of the Continental 
 Times, a pro-German paper published in Germany 
 and distributed free amongst the prisoners in order 
 to try and discourage them, we had not seen a news- 
 paper printed in English since we had been cap- 
 
■ ■-■■■ »•" «.' ■•- *» .-if- , 
 
 MURREN, SWITZERLAND— THE UPPER VILLAGE ON THE 
 EDGE OF THE PRECIPICE. 
 
SWITZERLAND AT LAST 159 
 
 tured. He also produced several pads of cable 
 forms. Imagine being able to send a cable to some- 
 one and have it arrive! It seems to me that we 
 wrote cables to almost every person whose first 
 name we knew. My cable home to Canada arrived 
 in five hours, thanks to the consideration of the cen- 
 sors, and was the first intimation my family had 
 that there was even a possibility of my going to 
 Switzerland. You will remember that my letters 
 and postcards, suggesting a move, had been held up. 
 
 At every station where the train stopped our re- 
 ception was just as enthusiastic until, at 12 o'clock, 
 when we arrived at Berne, the climax was reached. 
 Here we were met by several English staff officers, 
 members of the British Legation, and a crowd of 
 charming English and American ladies who es- 
 corted us to the station restaurant to a regular ban- 
 quet. All these months we had dreamed of a meal 
 like this and at last our dreams were to be realised. 
 The ladies were kindness itself. They cut up the 
 meat for those of us who had " game " arms, and 
 then sat and talked to us — but not about the war, 
 thank goodness. 
 
 Before leaving Constance a tag indicating our 
 final destination in Switzerland had been tied on 
 each of us. Those who were to go to Chateau 
 d'Oex left at 3 a. m. — Barnes was included in this 
 party. The rest of us left at 6 a. m. for Murren, 
 and a large number of those kind ladies stayed in 
 the station until we had all gone. 
 
160 CAPTUEED 
 
 The Mtirren party consisted of nine officers and 
 about two hundred men. We were accompanied by 
 some of the officers who were already stationed in 
 Mtirren, and Capt. Llopart, the Swiss medical of- 
 ficer in charge of the interned at that place, who 
 had come to Berne to meet us. 
 
 As we ran along the shores of Lake Thun the 
 Jungfrau Mountain was pointed out and we were 
 told that it was directly opposite our new home. 
 At Interlaken we took another train which, cross- 
 ing and recrossing a mountain stream, wound its 
 way slowly up a valley until, about 8 o'clock, it ar- 
 rived at Lauterbrunnen, a little village nestling in 
 the bottom of a valley, whose walls towered up al- 
 most perpendicularly on both sides. 
 
 Here we were given a real Swiss breakfast of 
 coffee, rolls, butter and honey. Not far away was 
 a small barber's shop with one barber. As soon as 
 breakfast was over the more particular ones stam- 
 peded to get in line for a much needed shave. 
 Major A. Kirkpatrick, of Toronto, had grown, while 
 in Germany, a very luxuriant beard: he returned 
 from the barber's shop minus this decoration, and 
 looking so handsome that nobody knew him. 
 
 About 9 o'clock we were asked, not ordered, to 
 come to the station at the foot of the funiculaire, 
 the little mountain railway which was to take us 
 up to a much higher altitude. The funiculaire con- 
 sisted of two small cars, holding about fifty people, 
 one of which was fastened at each end of a long 
 
SWITZERLAND AT LAST 161 
 
 steel cable. There was a single track, over a mile 
 long, which rose at an angle of about 45 degrees. 
 As one car went up the other came down, the two 
 passing in the middle at a point where the track 
 was made double for this purpose. While the first 
 fifty of us were boarding the car, a compartment at 
 one end was loaded with, what we considered, an 
 enormous amount of baggage and freight. We 
 noted the steepness of the incline and glanced at 
 the steel cable, which, though very strong, did not 
 seem to us strong enough to negotiate that heavy 
 load. Having stared death in the face so many 
 times before and come through successfully, we did 
 not wish to die unheroically by the snapping of 
 that cable. The Swiss officer got on board and we 
 decided that if he, knowing all about it, was willing 
 to take a chance, we would too. 
 
 As the car crawled slowly up the side of the 
 mountain the valley below was unfolded to our 
 gaze, and we had a glorious view of the wonderful 
 mountains from which the snow never departs. At 
 that season of the year snow was everywhere. 
 There had been a great fall during the night, which 
 clung to the branches of the fir trees and glistened 
 in the rays of the early morning sun. 
 
 At the top of the funiculaire we changed into a 
 very modern electric car, which bore us along 
 tracks cut out of the side of the mountain until we 
 arrived at Mtirren, a small cluster of houses and 
 hotels perched ©n the very edge of a precipice. A 
 
162 (WITURED 
 
 crowd of English Tommies, who had been released 
 from Germany in August of (hat year, were at the 
 station to meet us, Waving flags ami ringing cow- 
 bells, they welcomed us, while one of the men 
 played u Borne Sweet Borne" on a cornet, As we 
 emerged from the station three rousing British 
 cheers again brought the lumps to our throats, 
 
 We were escorted through the snow (o our vari 
 ons hotels where most of us went promptly to bed. 
 Personally I was almost exhausted, and will never 
 forget the feeling of satisfaction with which 1 
 Climbed into the bed with its two soft mattresses 
 and two soft pillows; and as I pulled up the clothes, 
 I don't even remember them reaching my chin. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 MURREN 
 
 The first few days of our stay in Murren were 
 spent in an interested inspection of our surround- 
 ings. The town is situated on a small plateau — 
 over a mile above sea-level — and overlooks a preci- 
 pice which drops about 3,000 feet to the valley be- 
 low. On the other side of the valley tower up the 
 triple peaks of the Eiger, Monk and Jungfrau, from 
 which at frequent intervals huge avalanches come 
 thundering down, to carry away large stretches of 
 forest on the lower slopes of the mountain. Be- 
 hind the town, the Amendhubel — a hill well 
 known to all the Interned at Murren — rises to the 
 height of 1,000 feet; and behind this is the Schilt- 
 horn, and other peaks favoured by the less adven- 
 turous mountain climbers. 
 
 Murren is literally a one-horse town. The horse 
 is used to help the soldiers drag coal and baggage 
 from the station to the hotel. There is only one 
 level road, a few hundred yards long, and along this 
 are found half a dozen little shops which, before the 
 war, catered to the immediate needs of the English 
 tourists who filled the hotels. Most of these shops 
 had been shut for the two years between the declar- 
 
 163 
 
164 CAPTURED 
 
 ation of war and the arrival of the first British In- 
 terned at Murren. 
 
 All the officers and some of the men were quar- 
 tered in the Palace Hotel, the rest of the men being 
 distributed among seven other hotels. We were all 
 treated as guests; our daily board — six francs 
 (fl.20) for the officers and four francs (80c.) for 
 the men, together with a small sum for heat — was 
 paid directly to the management by the British Gov- 
 ernment. The hotel keepers were glad to get guests 
 even at this low rate, as they were thus able to keep 
 their establishments running and accommodate the 
 few civilian visitors who came to Murren; a con- 
 siderable number of officers, and some of the men, 
 had their families permanently visiting them. 
 
 The medical services were in the charge of Capt. 
 Llopart, who was aided by several doctors, ap- 
 pointed from the French part of Switzerland, who 
 did a six weeks' tour of duty in Murren. Each man 
 was examined on arrival and his treatment pre- 
 scribed. Those who needed operations were sent to 
 various hospitals in the large towns of Switzerland, 
 where their expenses were paid by the British Gov- 
 ernment ; those who were to have massage and me- 
 chanical treatment received it at Murren, in a room 
 equipped for this purpose. 
 
 A Swiss combatant officer held the position of 
 Commandant de Place and was responsible for the 
 discipline of the camp. He held office every morn- 
 ing and administered punishment for breaches of 
 
MURREN 165 
 
 discipline, being advised in this by a British of- 
 ficer appointed as his adjutant. 
 
 The Senior British officer was directly in com- 
 mand of all the Interned at Murren. He organised 
 the canip on the old established principles of the 
 British Army. We were fortunate in having as 
 S. B. 0., Lieut.-Col. F. H. Neish of the Gordon 
 Highlanders. He took a keen interest in every- 
 thing that went on and, with the help of very able 
 assistants, succeeded in creating a system which 
 cared for the moral, spiritual and physical welfare 
 of the men. 
 
 Orderly officers were appointed weekly, to inspect 
 the hotels, rectify any minor complaints, and in- 
 sist on order and cleanliness. 
 
 In each hotel the senior N. C. O. was known as 
 the Chief of Establishment, and did duties similar 
 to those of a Company Sergeant Major. 
 
 A school was organised under an army school- 
 master sent out from England and, after examina- 
 tion, the successful men were given their Army cer- 
 tificates. 
 
 Numerous work shops were opened, not only to 
 do very necessary repair work, but also as a means 
 of instructing untrained men in trades they could 
 follow after the war. There was a carpenter's 
 shop, shoemaker's shop, tailor's shop, etc. 
 
 Later on a printing shop was started under the 
 direction of Lieut. Hubbs. A press and type were 
 bought and the men were taught type-setting and 
 
166 CAPTURED 
 
 printing. A magazine called the B. I. M. — Brit- 
 ish Interned Miirren — was published every fort- 
 night, and served to amuse the men, as well as to 
 establish a permanent record of doings in Miirren. 
 
 Perhaps the most attractive form of instruction 
 was given by the school of motor mechanism under 
 Lieut. Wallis. A chassis was donated by a Swiss 
 automobile firm and on it the pupils learned to be 
 very expert motor mechanics. The school was 
 later moved to Vevey where instruction in driving 
 could be given. Most of the graduates of this 
 school obtained positions as chauffeurs and me- 
 chanics during their stay in Switzerland. 
 
 The British Red Cross, with headquarters at 
 Berne, usually supplied the necessary capital to 
 start any new venture, but in most cases the money 
 was soon paid back out of the profits. 
 
 Everything possible was done to entertain the 
 men and make their lot more pleasant. A rink was 
 built for the use of those whose condition allowed 
 them to skate, and on it many carnivals and com- 
 petitions of various sorts were held. A hockey 
 team was organised from among the fifty Canadi- 
 ans, and, although all the players were crippled in 
 some way, they succeeded in defeating almost every 
 Swiss team they played. 
 
 There was a bob-run three kilometres (about two 
 miles) long which, after some work, was cleared 
 and put in working order. A funiculaire ran up 
 the Almendhubel and carried the more energetic 
 
MURREN MILITARY PRINTING OFFICE. 
 
 LIEUT. DOUGLAS AND TWO OF HIS STAFF AT WORK ON THE "b. I. M." 
 
 CARPENTERS SHOP. 
 
 A CORNER OF THE SHOP WHERE MEN WERE TAUGHT THE USE 
 
 OF SAW AND HAMMER. 
 
MURREN 167 
 
 and healthy members of the community to the top 
 of the run, which wound around a little valley and 
 finished conveniently close to the lower station of 
 the funiculaire. 
 
 Skiing was another very popular form of amuse- 
 ment. I was very much interested by this fasci- 
 nating sport and, when strong enough, bought a 
 pair of skis and proceeded to learn. My first at- 
 tempt at a real run netted me a strained knee and 
 ankle, and two cracked ribs, but fortunately no 
 damage to my arm. After several days in bed I 
 began again, w T ith much more success. 
 
 Soon after my arrival in Switzerland I received 
 a cable from home asking me to " Cable condition 
 of arm and general health." My poor family had 
 endured some rude shocks. About June 5th I was 
 reported " missing," and then later, " missing, be- 
 lieved killed." This time they had received no in- 
 timation that I might come to Switzerland, and 
 thought that the change meant that I was at the 
 point of death! I cabled back asking for my 
 skates; that satisfied them. 
 
 Just before Christmas, the party of officers and 
 men who had been sent back from Constance on 
 the morning of Dec. 13th, arrived in Switzerland. 
 We could thoroughly appreciate the joy with which 
 those who were sent to Murren stepped off the elec- 
 tric car. 
 
 Christmas day was very festive. In the after- 
 noon there was a Christmas tree in the ball-room 
 
168 CAPTURED 
 
 of the Palace Hotel for the men quartered there, 
 and each one received a small present donated by 
 generous Swiss manufacturers. In the evening a 
 special dinner was provided, followed by dancing 
 to the music of the Mtirren band. Think of it ! 
 
 Every Saturday night there was a dance for the 
 officers, and every Thursday night a dancing class 
 for the men, at which all the officers' wives and 
 sisters offered themselves as partners for the will- 
 ing pupils. 
 
 We Canadian officers had a bigger treat in store 
 for us on Christmas night. Lieut. J. E. McLurg 
 and Mrs. McLurg, of Sault Ste. Marie, lived in a 
 little chalet not far from the hotel. They invited 
 us all to a real Christmas dinner with turkey and 
 cranberry sauce, and pie — the kind of pie that 
 " Mother used to make." When the meal was over 
 Mr. McLurg passed around his best cigars and the 
 reminiscences began. We all had a wonderful 
 time and concluded the jolly evening by gathering 
 around the piano and singing a lot of songs that 
 had been popular when we left Canada. 
 
 We were all far from home and strangers in a 
 strange land, and on that one day of the year, 
 when everyone wants to be at home, we warmly 
 appreciated Mrs. McLurg's efforts to make us feel 
 that we were not forgotten. 
 
 After Christmas the days passed by uneventfully. 
 There was a good deal of work to be done, especially 
 when it snowed hard. The rink, the bob-run, the 
 
MtfKREN 169 
 
 roads and the railway track all had to be kept 
 cleared. For this purpose all the men who had 
 been passed by the doctors as fit for work were 
 formed up every morning, and the required number 
 selected. How these men did hate it too! For 
 months and months in Germany they had been re- 
 fusing to work in spite of severe punishment, and 
 now they had to do it whether they liked it or not. 
 A gentle reminder of the hardships their comrades 
 in Germany and France were enduring put a quick 
 stop to any unnecessary grousing. 
 
 When we had been in Murren about a month we 
 cast our eyes to the tops of the mountains and won- 
 dered what was beyond, and if it were possible to 
 go and look for ourselves. We soon found out that 
 we could not be away from Murren overnight with- 
 out a pass signed by the Commandant de Place, and 
 only given with a good excuse. It was rather hard 
 to find a sick relative in Switzerland so we did not 
 do much sight-seeing. 
 
 Switzerland is divided into two parts — one 
 French and one German — which speak the lan- 
 guage of the country on which they border. The 
 Germans who are interned in Switzerland are 
 confined to the German part, and the French and 
 English are scattered over the French half of the 
 country. There is very little mixing of enemies, 
 except in one or two cities which boast large hospi- 
 tals, where it is necessary to send men of all na- 
 tionalities for treatment. In these cities miniature 
 
170 CAPTURED 
 
 wars are avoided by confining the Germans to their 
 quarters on certain days of the week when the Al- 
 lies are allowed out, and vice versa. 
 
 Berne is the capital of Switzerland and the melt- 
 ing pot of the country. An English Tommy — an 
 ex-prize fighter — was walking alone on the street 
 of Berne when three Germans, thinking it was safe 
 to attack a lonely Englishman, sprang on him. He 
 knocked two of them unconscious on the side-walk, 
 but was unable to catch the third ! 
 
 I had become great friends with an English cap- 
 tain named Brewster. We both needed operations 
 and decided to go to Lausanne, where we could have 
 the services of one of the best surgeons in the world. 
 We had heard that it was possible to obtain per- 
 mission to attend a university. I was very anxious 
 to continue my study of French, and we both 
 wanted to study Lausanne and Lake Geneva. 
 Eventually we were transferred to the Lausanne 
 district for the purpose of having our operations 
 and later attending the university of that city. 
 
 Not long before we left, Jack Firstbrook, who, on 
 coming from Germany, had been placed in a hos- 
 pital in Berne on account of his weak condition, 
 arrived in Mtirren with his father and mother. 
 Mrs. Firstbrook soon took all the Canadians under 
 her wing, and thanks to her and Mrs. McLurg, we 
 had many a congenial afternoon tea-party. 
 
 Things were very pleasant in Mtirren ; the skiing 
 and curling were good, and I would gladly have 
 
MURREN 171 
 
 stayed on till the snow left, but my arm was giving 
 me trouble, and Brewster had been in this one spot 
 since August and was becoming restless, so, on 
 March 5th, we departed for Lausanne. 
 
CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 Lausanne ! 
 
 Switzerland is a strange country in time of war. 
 Every belligerent nation lias its official representa- 
 tives in this little oasis in the desert of war. Be- 
 sides that, the country is teeming with spies and 
 deserters. In towns exclusively devoted to in- 
 terned prisoners this melange of nationalities is not 
 so pronounced, but in Lausanne one hardly dares 
 make a new acquaintance without first ascertaining 
 the life history of the person in question. 
 
 Brewster and I had a lively time during the three 
 weeks we spent waiting for accommodation in the 
 hospital. We eventually got to know the danger- 
 ous characters by sight and carefully avoided being 
 brought into touch with them. However, we did 
 make the acquaintance of many charming people — 
 chiefly American and Swiss — and were shown 
 great hospitality. 
 
 The day after we were admitted to hospital I had 
 a sudden attack of appendicitis and was at once 
 operated upon. I thanked my lucky stars that I 
 was not still in Germany, for complications set in, 
 and a second operation was necessary. Skilful 
 
 172 
 
LAUSANNE ! 173 
 
 medical attention and careful nursing pulled me 
 through a critical stage. 
 
 Brewster had the operation on his leg and we 
 shared a private ward. We were the first English 
 officers that had ever been in that hospital and at- 
 tracted, for that reason, a considerable amount of 
 attention. Our room was continually filled with 
 flowers and we had numerous visits from our ac- 
 quaintances, who showered us with gifts. One 
 motherly Swiss lady kept us supplied with home- 
 made jelly. 
 
 We saw a good deal of several French officers 
 who had come there to have the mistakes of the 
 German doctors rectified. One of these had had a 
 most trying time. His thigh-bone had been shat- 
 tered, and after months in plaster the bone had 
 finally knitted. One day he was being carried 
 downstairs by some German orderlies who dropped 
 him and broke his leg again. After several months 
 more of agony the bone finally knitted, but in such 
 a manner that the joint formed almost a right 
 angle. His leg was very much shorter and prac- 
 tically useless. In the hospital in Lausanne the 
 bone had to be broken again ; a pin was put through 
 the knee, weights were attached to it, and the poor 
 fellow had again to endure sleepless weeks of tor- 
 ture in an endeavour to finally overcome the re- 
 sults of over a year of careless treatment. 
 
 While sitting around a cosy wood fire and en- 
 tertaining our friends at afternoon tea we often 
 
174: /CAPTURED 
 
 contrasted our life there with the months spent in 
 German hospitals. It was a wonderful thing to be 
 again amongst sympathetic people. 
 
 After six weeks I was discharged from hospital, 
 the operation on my arm being postponed until I 
 was stronger. About a month later Brewster 
 joined me at the little hotel on the shore of Lake 
 Geneva where I had taken up my abode. We reg- 
 istered at the University. Brewster, who had 
 lived in Paris and spoke French fluently, took up 
 engineering, but I enrolled in a course in the 
 French language. Seven or eight English Tom- 
 mies attended the same lectures as I, and the pro- 
 fessor was most skilful in detecting, from their ac- 
 cent, the particular part of England from which 
 they came. 
 
 During our spare time we did a great deal of 
 sailing and I played tennis almost every day. Life 
 in Lausanne was pleasant but we were never able 
 to forget that we were prisoners of war and unable 
 to go home. 
 
 I eventually had the operation on my arm but 
 managed to avoid a further stay in hospital. I had 
 had over eight months of hospital life and did not 
 relish the idea of another session. Accordingly I 
 arranged with Brewster to bring me back in a taxi 
 to the hotel after the operation. I was three hours 
 under the anaesthetic and was put in a ward full 
 of Frenchmen to recover. For some unaccount- 
 able reason, when I came to I was thinking in 
 
MURREN VARIETY ENTERTAINMENT COMPANY AND PIERROT 
 TROUPE, COMPOSED ENTIRELY OF INTERNED PRISONERS. 
 
LAUSANNE ! 175 
 
 French, and shouting, "A bas les Boches! 
 Cochons!" (Down with the Huns! Pigs!) etc. 
 Whenever I went back to the hospital for a dressing, 
 these men would smile at me and say, " A bas les 
 Boches ! " 
 
 Brewster wrapped me in rugs and hurried me to 
 the hotel, where the concierge was sent for to help 
 me to my room. He, poor fellow, thought I was 
 drunk, and handled me in the patronising way 
 usually employed towards gentlemen in this state. 
 A kind English lady who knew what had happened 
 came to see if there were anything she could do. 
 The concierge waved her aside, saying, in French, 
 " He's alright, Madame. Leave him alone, he will 
 be quite right after a little sleep ! " 
 
 While we were in Lausanne the United States 
 declared war on Germany. A sigh of relief went 
 up from every Ally. At last the whole English- 
 speaking world was fighting, side by side, for Jus- 
 tice and Eight. We Canadians felt that now we 
 could shake our cousins to the South by the hand, 
 and welcome them to the greatest of all undertak- 
 ings, and that after the war there would not be 
 the feeling of reproach which we had dreaded so 
 much. We all realised the tremendous power of 
 our new Ally, and hoped, from a selfish point of 
 view, that her assistance might bring the war to a 
 speedy close and so hasten our return to our 
 homes and families. 
 
 Towards the end of July, one of the officers stay- 
 
176 CAPTURED 
 
 ing in our hotel received a telephone message from 
 Chateau D'Oex to the effect that the British and 
 German Governments had come to terms regarding 
 the repatriation of certain interned prisoners of 
 war, and that before long we might expect to be 
 visited by a Swiss Commission, to select those eli- 
 gible to go home. Naturally, this caused a great 
 flutter of excitement. We had been expecting it 
 for some time past as, at the railway-station of 
 Lausanne, we had said good-bye to large numbers 
 of our French comrades, on their way back to their 
 native land. 
 
 About the same time as we received this good 
 news the University closed, and the doctor with 
 whom Brewster and I had been taking massage and 
 mechanical treatment decided to go away for a 
 holiday. We had no excuse left for staying longer 
 in Lausanne and, on August 1st, we, together with 
 several others, were recalled to Mtirren to take over 
 some of the duties which were falling rather heavily 
 on the few remaining officers. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 Back to Murren — Repatriation 
 
 As soon as we arrived in Mtirren we were each 
 assigned duties. Lieut. Hubbs had been sent away 
 in charge of a party of men to do some civic work 
 for the Swiss Government, and I was appointed his 
 successor as editor of the B. I. M., and business 
 manager of the printing office. This meant a lot 
 of hard work, but I thoroughly enjoyed having 
 something to do, productive of tangible results. 
 The subject of my first editorial was Mr. Woods, 
 who had rendered such valuable service in caring 
 for the teeth of the men. I will quote some parts 
 of this article as illustrating the way in which this 
 work was carried on : 
 
 " There is hardly a man in Murren who has not 
 paid a visit to the bright and cheery rooms of our 
 dentist, Mr. J. A. Woods. In doing so, few of them 
 realised what a privilege was being accorded them. 
 ... In spite of his formidable official titles, every- 
 one agrees that he is one of the nicest men they 
 ever met. 
 
 " As soon as Mr. Woods heard that British pris- 
 oners were to be interned in Switzerland he at once 
 
 applied for permission to come here, and give them 
 
 177 
 
178 CAPTURED 
 
 the benefit of his services. He alone knows the 
 difficulties he had to surmount before he finally ar- 
 rived in Mtirren, on 17th August, 1916, just a few 
 days after the first batch of prisoners. He had to 
 bring all his instruments with him as personal lug- 
 gage, but did it so effectively that he now has two 
 bedrooms and a bathroom in the Palace Hotel 
 transformed into the finest dental operating rooms 
 in Switzerland. He also enjoys the unique posi- 
 tion of practising at a higher altitude than any 
 other dentist in Europe. 
 
 " Mr. Woods wasted no time in commencing his 
 work. He at once asked for lists of men, classified 
 according to the degree of urgency, who wished den- 
 tal treatment. Two hundred of the original four 
 hundred at once sent in their names. Each case 
 was given individual treatment, and the patients 
 were made to feel that they were being treated by 
 their own dentist, and not in a clinic. The same 
 system was followed with the second and third 
 batches of men who came in December. There 
 never was any compulsion used; all the patients 
 came of their own free will. A tribute to Mr. 
 Woods' efficiency is the fact that 99 per cent of the 
 officers and about 80 per cent of the men have 
 presented themselves to him for treatment. Mr. 
 Woods keeps an exact record of every patient, and 
 below will be found some interesting statistics of 
 his work during the past year. 
 
BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 179 
 
 Number of different patients over 700 
 
 Visits to room nearly 3,000 
 
 Operations 4,500 
 
 Pro thesis (Artificial dentures, special 
 appliances for jaw injuries, etc.) 368 
 
 " Mr. Woods has visited Wengen, Chateau d'Oex 
 and other places, attending to 533 urgent cases 
 amongst the French and English soldiers. As a 
 result of these visits another Dental Surgeon, Mr. 
 W. J. Law, has been sent to the Chateau d'Oex 
 district. 
 
 "We all appreciate the generous way in which 
 Mr. Woods gave up his large practice in Liverpool 
 and, at enormous personal expense, came here to 
 Switzerland to give us the benefit of his wide ex- 
 perience. All his work has been entirely gratu- 
 itous. If he had not undertaken it, no one else 
 would. We all take off our hats to a man who is 
 doing his bit, and doing it well." 
 
 While we were in Lausanne many improvements 
 had been made in the camp at Murren. Signboards 
 had been erected calling all the little foot-paths by 
 the names of the best known London streets, such 
 as Piccadilly, Strand, etc. A large finger-post at 
 the station pointed in a north-westerly direction, 
 and was marked " Blighty." 
 
 A new Y. M. C. A. hut had been erected and was 
 as well patronised as the Red Triangle huts on the 
 Western front. This one had an attraction which 
 
180 CAPTURED 
 
 was lacking elsewhere, in having ladies to assist in 
 serving the tea, which was very good in spite of 
 the following limerick composed by one of the men : 
 
 "The tea at the Y. M. C. A. 
 Is weaker than ever they say ; 
 
 When they try to pour out, 
 
 It just stops in the spout, 
 It's too feeble to come all the way." 
 
 A moving picture show had been started, and, 
 on Thursday and Friday afternoon and evening, 
 the ball-room of the Palace Hotel was filled with 
 Tommies thoroughly enjoying everything from 
 Charlie Chaplin to the latest war film. 
 
 A variety entertainment company, composed en- 
 tirely of interned prisoners, gave very good per- 
 formances at regular intervals, and smoking con- 
 certs were frequently arranged in the various ho- 
 tels. 
 
 Through the generosity of the people in England, 
 an arrangement had been made whereby the sol- 
 diers' wives, in groups of eighteen, were sent free 
 of charge to spend two weeks with their husbands 
 in Switzerland. If a man were not married his 
 mother was allowed to come instead. In this way 
 many couples were reunited after three years of 
 separation. 
 
 If an interned soldier were contemplating mar- 
 riage, his fiancee would be sent out with a party of 
 wives and mothers, and the ceremony would be held 
 in Switzerland. The Tommies took a great delight 
 
BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 181 
 
 in making these affairs successful. In winter the 
 bride was usually dragged to the church on a large 
 sleigh decorated with the Union Jack, and confetti 
 was always abundant. On one occasion there were 
 six weddings in one day at Mtirren. 
 
 The most unique wedding I ever saw was that of 
 Lieut. Hedges. He had been badly wounded at the 
 Somme and had lost one leg. He and several other 
 officers in the same condition had been at Con- 
 stance with me. As they were all limited to the 
 same sort of amusements they were always together 
 in Switzerland. During the summer of 1917 
 Hedges decided to get married, and came to Lau- 
 sanne for the happy event. His one-legged friends 
 came with him, one of whom acted as best man, and 
 the others as ushers. When the knot had been tied 
 these always cheerful heroes formed an arch of 
 crutches, under which the bride and groom passed 
 on leaving the church. A small boy presented the 
 bride with a bouquet, and the whole party drove off 
 amidst the cheers of the onlookers. 
 
 There was a South African officer with one arm 
 who had been taken prisoner on the Somme who 
 had, what I consider, a rather ghastly experience. 
 He had received a bullet wound in the elbow which, 
 though not serious, caused his temperature to rise. 
 The German doctor who was attending him said 
 that the reason for the fever was that the hole in 
 his arm was not big enough to allow the pus to 
 escape. He advised a small operation to open and 
 
182 CAPTURED 
 
 clean out the wound. When the officer awoke from 
 the anaesthetic he was lying on his back in bed, 
 and unconsciously moved his hand across his chest 
 where his wounded arm usually lay. The arm was 
 not there. He feverishly felt his body until he 
 came to a large dressing over the stump of his arm, 
 which had been amputated. He almost fainted 
 dead away with the shock. He shouted frantically 
 for the nurse and demanded to see the doctor. She 
 refused to call him. The officer started to climb 
 out of bed, saying that he would go to the doctor 
 if she would not fetch him. Eventually the doctor 
 appeared and received the worst abuse he had ever 
 had in his life — but it was too late. 
 
 I spoke to a great number of men who had had 
 limbs amputated, and in almost every case the bone 
 was not cut far enough back to allow the flesh to 
 grow over the end and form a cushion for an ar- 
 tificial limb. A friend of mine, who had lost a leg 
 in this way, told me that he had complained to a 
 German surgeon about this method of amputation, 
 and asked him why it was done. The German's re- 
 ply was : " Well, you know, that's what the French 
 and English are doing to our prisoners." 
 
 A private who had been taken prisoner at Mons 
 told me that, in one camp he had been in, there 
 were about three thousand prisoners, mostly Rus- 
 sian and French. The camp was divided by a road 
 into two separate enclosures. In one of these en- 
 
THE WEDDING OF LIEUT. HEDGES. 
 
BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 183 
 
 closures were about a thousand men who had to 
 go to the main camp every day for their meals. 
 There were two gates side by side — a small one 
 reserved for Germans, and a larger one for the use 
 of the prisoners. At meal times the men used to 
 crowd around the gate, waiting for the order to 
 pass through to draw their rations in the other en- 
 closure. They were always hungry and impatient, 
 and one day an English sailor and a couple of 
 Tommies found themselves being forced through 
 the small gate by the crowd in the rear. The sen- 
 try shouted at them to go back but they were un- 
 able to do so on account of the pressure from be- 
 hind. Once more the sentry shouted " Zurtick ! " 
 (Back!) and then ran his bayonet through the 
 sailor and pulled the trigger to facilitate the with- 
 drawal of the weapon. The bullet killed one of 
 the English Tommies and wounded the other. 
 
 Another private who had been taken prisoner at 
 the beginning of the war told me how the men in 
 his camp had been tied with their backs to a post, 
 their toes just touching the ground, and left there 
 for hours on end, as a punishment for refusing to 
 work. 
 
 If one of the men in a hut had committed a 
 trivial crime, such as smoking indoors, and the 
 Germans were unable to find out who was the cul- 
 prit, every man in that hut would be stood at atten- 
 tion all day, in bitter weather, with only a single 
 
184 CAPTUKED 
 
 bowl of soup as nourishment. The punishment 
 would be repeated day after day, until the man con- 
 fessed in order to save his comrades. 
 
 Men who had received treatment such as this 
 thoroughly appreciated the comfort in which they 
 were living in Switzerland, but still they longed to 
 see Blighty once again, and could appreciate some 
 of the sentiments expressed in the following article, 
 quoted from an August number of the B. I. M.: 
 
 " Interned Prisoners of War are a species of ani- 
 mal usually found in a neutral country. The word 
 i interned' comes from the Latin ' ino/ meaning 
 * fed/ and ' ternus/ meaning ' up.' They are used 
 in the winter for moving large quantities of snow 
 from one place to another, and in the summer for 
 doing the same thing with rocks and gravel. 
 
 " They are amusing creatures to watch. They 
 live in large communities like the bees. These com- 
 munities or establishments, as they are scientifically 
 called, are presided over by what is known as a 
 Chief of Establishment, something similar to the 
 ' Queen Bee.' Unlike the latter, the Chief of Es- 
 tablishment does not lay the eggs which produce 
 the other Prisoners of War. These are hatched out 
 in the mud of France and elsewhere, usually in a 
 hollow in the ground, called a shell-hole. 
 
 " The chief vice of the Interned Prisoner of War 
 is playing football, cricket, hockey, etc. They are 
 so depraved that at times they will indulge in 
 these vices in the pouring rain. The only way they 
 
BACK TO MtJRREN — REPATRIATION 185 
 
 can be tempted to desist is by the offer of a meal. 
 They spend their spare time in having operations 
 and attempting to get leave. 
 
 " There are different species of Interned Prison- 
 ers of War. There are the Scotch, English, Irish, 
 Australian and Canadian. The latter have not red 
 skins, as some people suppose. 
 
 " There is also another species called Officers, 
 who spend most of their time seeing that the others 
 are wearing their own boots, and don't take a bath 
 before it is necessary. 
 
 " The Interned Prisoners of War are sometimes 
 soldiers. They arrange themselves in long rows to 
 present a formidable appearance on certain feast 
 days. They are very religious, and believe that 
 some day they will go to a country where they have 
 homes, friends and relations." 
 
 We soon learned that the rumour that a certain 
 number of Englishmen were to be repatriated had 
 been confirmed. At a conference held at the 
 Hague an agreement had been come to between the 
 British and German Governments, for the exchange 
 of interned prisoners in Switzerland on practically 
 the same terms as had been arranged for the ex- 
 change of French and German prisoners. We 
 were told that at this conference the Dutch were 
 always seated at the table first, then from a door 
 on one side came in the Germans, and from a door 
 on the other side, the English. No intercourse, 
 save on business, took place. At the closing meet- 
 
186 CAPTURED 
 
 ing the Chief of the Germans got up and said they 
 could not go without thanking England warmly for 
 the way their prisoners had been treated, and ad- 
 mitted that no other country had done the like. 
 Our people bowed back acknowledgment and 
 thanks, but could not return the compliment. 
 
 This agreement applied to the following classes 
 of interned men, the general principle followed 
 being that the sick and wounded whose re-establish- 
 ment to health was not likely to take place within 
 one year, and whose validity had diminished by 
 about 50 per cent., would be repatriated: 
 
 (1) All those who had lost one limb, at least 
 a hand or a foot. 
 
 (2) All suffering from a grave infirmity which 
 was not likely to disappear within one year, with 
 or without operative treatment, for instance: 
 Complete or partial ankylosis or paralysis, dimin- 
 ishing by about three-quarters the use of a shoul- 
 der, elbow, wrist, leg, knee or foot. 
 
 (3) Mutilation of the face; mouth wounds, head 
 wounds, causing epilepsy. 
 
 (4) Cases of wounds to the vertebral column, 
 throat, abdomen, etc. 
 
 (5) Tuberculosis, where a cure in Switzerland 
 was not likely to be useful. 
 
 (6) Diseases affecting respiration, the heart, di- 
 gestion, grave neurasthenia. 
 
 (7) Blindness. 
 
 (8) Deafness of certain degree. 
 
BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 187 
 
 (9) Mental cases. 
 
 (10) Malarial cases (serious). 
 
 (11) Diabetes. 
 
 (12) Tuberculosis (cured). 
 
 (13) Loss of an eye, if other eye were also af- 
 fected. 
 
 The two governments agreed not to allow men 
 thus exchanged to fight or work on the lines of 
 communication. 
 
 The doctors in charge at Miirren carried out a 
 thorough examination of every man and selected a 
 certain number as eligible to appear before the final 
 Commission, which was composed of three Swiss 
 doctors. 
 
 The excitement was intense when, on August 
 18th, the Commission commenced work in Miirren. 
 The officers were examined first. One by one they 
 went into an upstairs room in the Palace Hotel 
 while their wives and sisters sat breathlessly on 
 the stairs, awaiting their exit and the fateful news. 
 There were not many disappointments. It was 
 very hard for officers to get out of Germany, and 
 they were all in a more or less serious condition. 
 Five only, out of twenty, were compelled to resign 
 themselves to remain in Switzerland. The rest of 
 us dashed to the Post Office and cabled home the 
 glad tidings. 
 
 We heard that only four hundred Germans had 
 been passed for repatriation on account of the fact 
 that they knew when they were well off, and refused 
 
188 CAPTUEED 
 
 to present themselves to the Commission. Alto- 
 gether 860 British interned prisoners had been 
 accepted. 
 
 Before leaving for home the German officers had 
 a banquet — probably their last for some time to 
 come — at which they drank a large quantity of the 
 very best wines obtainable. We were told on very 
 good authority that, instead of being jovial, this 
 affair was one of the gloomiest ever held in Berne. 
 
 At 4 o'clock in the afternoon of September 8th, 
 the first load of happy and excited men descended 
 the funiculaire, and thus completed the first stage 
 of their voyage home. The first number of the 
 B. I. M. which appeared after our departure con- 
 tained the following: 
 
 EXODUS 
 
 " Now it came to pass on the 25th day of the 8th 
 month of the 3rd year of the war against William, 
 Emperor of Germany, there came unto Mtirren cer- 
 tain physicians who spake, saying, Let everyone of 
 you that is diseased, or hath lost of his value as a 
 man of war, more than the half, return ye, all 
 every man unto his own home. 
 
 " And all the people shouted, and said, Great is 
 the Commission of Doctors. 
 
 " For every man said in his heart, Surely I shall 
 be amongst the chosen. 
 
 " Now when the physicians had gone from them 
 but a few hours, then began those who were 
 
DEPARTURE OF REPATRIATED PRISONERS FROM MURREN. 
 
 REUNION, IN SWITZERLAND, OF TOMMIES WITH THEIR WIVES 
 AND MOTHERS AFTER THREE YEARS' SEPARATION. 
 
BACK TO MURREN — REPATRIATION 189 
 
 amongst the chosen to murmur, saying, Why go we 
 not hence forthwith, wherefore have we been be- 
 guiled with promises? 
 
 "But those set in authority over them went 
 amongst the people, speaking good words unto 
 them, saying, Wherefore murmur ye? Surely in 
 a little while will they let you go. Albeit they 
 knew nothing. 
 
 "Now after ten days came messages, saying, 
 Surely on the day before the Sabbath shall ye go 
 out. 
 
 " And all the people shouted, and said, Great is 
 the Commission of Doctors. 
 
 " Then Neish, chief of the mighty men of valour, 
 calling together his Captains and his Lieutenants, 
 commanded them, saying, Thus and thus shall ye 
 do. Ye shall not shout, nor make any noise with 
 your voice, neither shall any word proceed out of 
 your mouth, so long as the trains remain standing 
 still in the station. For lo ! is it not written in the 
 book of King's Regulations. 
 
 " On the Sth day of the 9th month of the 3rd 
 year of the war against William, Emperor of Ger- 
 many, that reigned in Potsdam, departed the chil- 
 dren of Neish, even 182 men with their women and 
 their children and their dogs, a very great multi- 
 tude. 
 
 " Moreover, there was much joy amongst those 
 that departed, and they made merry, saying, Be- 
 hold, Mtirren shall be covered with snow, and the 
 
190 CAPTURED 
 
 land shall be white with the flakes thereof, but 
 what is that to us. Look ye to it ! 
 
 " And the people answered them and said, Go to. 
 Get you down quickly, lest the Commission harden 
 their hearts, and it repenteth them that they have 
 let you go. 
 
 "And the people departed by companies, every 
 man according to his hotel, to every hotel an Of- 
 ficer or two, according to the commandment of 
 Neish, chief of the mighty men of valour. 
 
 " And it came to pass, while the train was yet in 
 the station, that a certain fellow of the tribes of 
 Canada, with a loud voice about the space of ten 
 minutes, cried out, and said, Well, Well, Well, 
 Well, Well. 
 
 "And the people of that country were aston- 
 ished, saying, Surely this man hath a devil. 
 
 "Now the rest of the acts of the children of 
 Neish, and all that they did, shall they not be writ- 
 ten in the chronicles of B. I. M. ? " 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 Home 
 
 Our departure from Switzerland was a repeti- 
 tion of our glorious arrival. We were sent home 
 in two parties, one three days before the other, and 
 those from Murren were fortunate in being included 
 in the first party. As we passed through Switzer- 
 land we collected, from different towns, several 
 small groups which brought our numbers up to 
 about four hundred. 
 
 At Interlaken a great crowd was at the station 
 to see us pass through and, as I was standing on 
 the platform, I was accosted by a little Belgian sol- 
 dier who knew my name. I racked my brains and 
 suddenly remembered that he had been a prisoner 
 in Lazarett VI, where he had acted as orderly to 
 the Feldwebel. I shook him warmly by the hand 
 and asked him how things were in Cologne. In 
 broken English, which he had learned while in Ger- 
 many, he said, " I leave Lazarett VI tree weeks ago. 
 She's awful, nothing to eat — macaroni every day. 
 She's better here in Suisse, n'est-ce pas? You glad 
 to go home? Au revoir, bon voyage." 
 
 At Berne we spent an hour in the station, where 
 we were fed. The train also stopped for a short 
 
 191 
 
192 CAPTURED 
 
 time in Lausanne, where the station was literally 
 packed with people. As we pulled out, the cheer- 
 ing from the platforms and the train mingled into 
 a roar that made the roof vibrate. We did not 
 leave Geneva till 3.10 a. m., but in spite of the late 
 hour many of our friends were at the station to 
 say good-bye, and the girls of the Swiss Red Cross 
 passed up and down showering us with dainties of 
 every sort. 
 
 After leaving Geneva we peered out into the 
 blackness of the night to try and see the place 
 where we crossed the border. Brewster was in our 
 compartment. He had travelled over the same line 
 before the war, and it was he who made the an- 
 nouncement, " Gentlemen, we are in France ! " 
 
 We were prisoners no longer. 
 
 The news soon travelled the length of the train, 
 and the men gave vent to their feelings by pro- 
 longed cheering. 
 
 The first stop we made in France was at Belle- 
 garde. It was 4.30 a. M., but the station was 
 crowded with people. As the train came to a stop 
 a military guard presented arms, while a band 
 played " God Save the King " and the " Marseil- 
 laise." We stood smartly to attention till the last 
 note sounded, and then leapt on to the platform. 
 We actually stood on French territory ! 
 
 Tables had been erected all along the platform 
 and from these the kind ladies of Bellegarde served 
 champagne and biscuits. This was hospitality in- 
 
HOME 193 
 
 deed. We were the first train-load of repatriated 
 British prisoners that had ever left Switzerland, 
 and the people felt they could not do enough for us. 
 
 Our reception at Lyons was stupendous. We 
 filed past a cavalry guard and through a tremen- 
 dous crowd that clapped enthusiastically as we 
 passed. We were conducted to a large hall in the 
 station where a speech of welcome in English was 
 read by a French general, and responded to in 
 French by a British staff officer. 
 
 Motor cars were at the door and whirled ub 
 through the streets — where we were pelted with 
 flowers by the people — till we came to a temporary 
 barracks. Here the officers were tendered a formal 
 luncheon and the men, too, received an excellent 
 meal. 
 
 In the afternoon we took the men for a walk 
 through the town, and at 8 o'clock boarded an 
 English hospital train. There was a bed for every 
 man. None of us had enjoyed this luxury when 
 we were wounded and taken prisoner and, al- 
 though the train was not due to leave till 10 o'clock, 
 we went straight to bed. We were going to make 
 up for lost time. 
 
 The next day we stopped for a few minutes close 
 to the place where some German prisoners were 
 working under guard. Many of the men on our 
 train had been taken prisoner at the beginning of 
 the war and had received very brutal treatment. 
 The hints and suggestions which they shouted to 
 
194 CAPTURED 
 
 the sentries would have made the Huns tremble in 
 their shoes had they but understood. 
 
 We passed a battalion of American troops march- 
 ing on the road close to the train. It was the first 
 time we had seen soldiers of our new Ally, and we 
 gave them a hearty cheer to which they responded 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 The crossing of the channel was made that night 
 on a luxurious hospital ship, and at dawn the decks 
 were crowded with men waiting to catch the first 
 glimpse of Blighty. Two special hospital trains 
 rushed us to London, and we were immediately 
 placed in hospital to await a medical board. 
 
 I was fortunate in arriving on the first train, in 
 having my board the same afternoon, and being 
 discharged from hospital with a recommendation 
 for two months' leave. 
 
 By a great piece of good fortune I spent only 
 four days in England and was put on the first boat 
 leaving for Canada. 
 
 I will never forget the day we sighted land, and 
 the days that seemed like months, when we 
 crawled up the St. Lawrence in sight of the shore, 
 but too far away to make a break and swim for it. 
 
 When we arrived at Quebec I rushed off the boat 
 and took the first train for Montreal. It didn't 
 seem possible that I was actually a free man on 
 Canadian soil once more, whereas, less than three 
 weeks before, I had been a prisoner of war interned 
 in Switzerland. 
 
HOME 195 
 
 At Montreal I was met by my family. Nothing 
 could have been more perfect than that reunion 
 which I had pictured almost from the moment I 
 had been taken prisoner. It did not happen just 
 the way I had imagined it would. Words fail me 
 to describe it 7 but suffice it to say that it was the 
 happiest moment of my life. 
 
 THE END 
 
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