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On the right of the British line Part 21

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The biscuits were never in stock; the chocolate, though high in price, was so thin that there was nothing of it; and the cigarettes were unsmokable.

It was a sorry day when we could get no more eggs. We used to depend upon the eggs for supper; for the cheese was uneatable, the brawn suspicious, and the sausage like boiled linoleum. German sausage at the best of time is open to argument; but German sausage in a country which has been blockaded for two and a half years is worthy of serious thought.

The surgical attention was good, though the Russian prisoners who a.s.sisted were apt to be rough; and as neither the German doctor nor his Russian a.s.sistant could understand each other, and the wounded could understand neither, nor be understood in turn, the situation was sometimes difficult.

The doctor visited each bed at 8 A.M. every morning to inquire the condition of the wounded; but whatever you had to say--which of course he did not understand--the reply was always: "Goot, Goot."

On one occasion we saw flags flying over the city, and that evening for supper we were given a hard-boiled egg. We were told it was the Empress's birthday. We made anxious inquiries as to when the Kaiser and the Crown Prince would have a birthday.

A few days after I arrived at Hanover, my right eye was removed, and the following day the doctor told me, through an interpreter, that I should be sent back to England. I asked when I should be sent, and was told in three or four weeks.

It was about this time that I began to develop an unsatiable appet.i.te for sweet things. I have found that many have had the same experience, after a period of privation following upon their wounds. I would buy up all the jam, chocolate, and toffy I could lay my hands on, which came in parcels to other prisoners. When I wrote home for parcels to be sent to me, I hardly mentioned food, which afterwards became so necessary, but asked for sweet stuff.

But what I needed more urgently than anything else was money. When I was picked up the only cash I had on me was two francs, and this I exchanged for a mark and sixty pfennigs, which, with five marks I was able to borrow, kept me going for a while. But it was soon gone, and I found myself without a sou, and no pay due for six weeks.

About ten days after I arrived at Hanover I was able to sit out in the garden, and from then on I began to mend.

Saniez used to dress me, and his watchful eye was upon me wherever I went.

Sometimes of an afternoon I used to sit by the fire. I used to like sitting by the fire, because its warmth misled me into thinking I could distinguish the light. If I happened to be rather quiet Saniez would come to my side, and I would feel that he was watching me. Then he would speak, and each would find some word to make the other understand:

"Cigarette, Capitaine?"

"Oui, Saniez."

He would take one of his own cigarettes, put it in my mouth and light it.

I could neither taste nor smell it; but it pleased Saniez, so I took it.

"Tres bien, Capitaine, puff, puff!"

"Oui, Saniez, tres bien."

"Tres bien, good. Monsieur Parker says, 'Trays beens.' Joke, ah, good joke!"

He would go away, but still watching me from a distance, would presently come back again, and placing his large hand on my shoulder, would say:

"Couche, Capitaine?" and leading me to my bed would lay me on it, and carefully tuck me in for the night.

There was a German non-commissioned officer employed in the hospital who was really a good sort. He could speak good English, having worked in English hotels before the war.

He would sometimes sit by my bed for a chat:

"Where were you wounded, Captain?" he asked one day.

"Leuze Wood on the Somme," I replied.

"Somme dreadful place, dreadful war, Captain."

"Very!"

"It is not fighting now; it is murder, both sides murder--yah."

"Have you been to the front yet?"

"No; don't want to, either; don't like soldiering. German people sick of war; but got to do what we are told. Captain, you and I could settle it in five minutes."

"I'm not so sure; it's nearly settled me."

As the weeks pa.s.sed by I began anxiously and earnestly to wait for news of my exchange; but three weeks went, and the fourth and fifth week pa.s.sed, and still no news. About the seventh week Saniez burst into the ward one morning and rushed up to my bed.

"Bon jour, Capitaine. Good, good! Office, quick," and he began hurriedly dressing me.

I was to report to the office at once. I had been waiting for this, and dreaming of this moment for weeks.

Saniez knew it too, and as I went through the door I heard him shout:

"Angleterre, Capitaine; tres bien!"

I waited outside the office for about half an hour. Wishart of the Canadians was inside, and presently he came out to fetch me:

"They want to see you inside. Who do you think is in there?"

"I don't know--who?"

"Doctor Pohlmann. He supervises all the prison camps belonging to the Tenth Army. We've got to go to a prisoners' camp."

My hopes were dashed to the ground.

Ho led me in, and I sat down before Doctor Pohlmann, who spoke excellent English, and explained that he was a doctor of languages.

He filled up a form, taking from me particulars of my name, regiment, and the usual details; and then, turning to Wishart, told him to go.

I began to feel that I was in for a rough time. Why did Doctor Pohlmann wish to speak to me alone.

I sat before him in silence, too disappointed at the turn events had taken to care what happened. But as soon as the door had closed he turned towards me, and his remarks surprised me beyond measure. Not a single question did he put to me to elicit information.

"Captain, you are quite blind?"

"Yes, quite."

"I am sorry; I did not know you were blind."

He seemed quite sympathetic. Not that I wanted it from him, yet so relieved was I to escape cross-examination that I felt quite bucked.

He continued: "The hospital people say you are ready to be sent away.

When you leave here you come under my charge. They did not tell me you were blind. I have no proper place to put you; I do not know where to send you."

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On the right of the British line Part 21 summary

You're reading On the right of the British line. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Gilbert Nobbs. Already has 514 views.

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