On the right of the British line Part 23

When the watery liquid of potato water called soup was issued from the kitchens fatigue parties were paraded to draw the issue for each mess.

The British prisoners were not altogether dependent on this ration, and would let the Russian prisoners carry the dixy for them, and in return they would be given a cup of soup by the British Tommies. So hungry were the Russians for this little "extra" that hundreds of them would wait for hours in the cold on the off-chance of a few getting the job.

One cannot speak with these British Tommies and hear of their hardships without feeling a profound admiration for their indomitable spirit. You can take a British soldier prisoner, send him far from the protection of his country, but he is British wherever he goes and his courage and resourcefulness cannot be broken.

Whenever I met a man who had been a prisoner since the beginning of the war, I made a point of getting his story to ascertain the truth about the barbarities I had read of.

There was no mistaking these men. I could not see them but I seemed instinctively to recognise, and whether it was my imagination or not I cannot tell; but their manner seemed distinctive and they spoke like men who had suffered much and were harbouring a just grievance, and lived for the day when they would revenge themselves. As one man put it to me:

"If we ever see a German in England when we get back we will kill him."

These men were taken at Mons; captured, most of them, by sacrificing themselves in rear-guard fighting to save the main British army.

These men have been in captivity for two and a half years. Just think of it! But do we think of it enough, or have we forgotten it?

The British Tommy has an individuality which is not always understood.

Ask him in an official way to give evidence of his treatment, and he will sit tight and say not a word. Take out your note-book to write down his evidence and he can think of nothing, but all the same he knows a lot.

I know this to be true; for after I was exchanged I spoke to a soldier who had been exchanged at the same time, and he said that a Government official had been round to question the men on the treatment they had received in Germany. During our conversation he told me that 200 of our men had been put to work in a Zeppelin factory. I asked him if he had given this in evidence, but he said:

"No, not likely; they got nothing out of me."

I asked him why not, for it was his duty. But he said they would only have asked him a lot more questions to try and tie him up in a knot.

When I came across a soldier who was captured at the beginning of the war I used to invite him to my room when no one was about. We would sit in front of the fire and drink a cup of cocoa and smoke a pipe.

I never asked him questions, but let him talk as he felt like it.

There were generally one or two others in the room, and when we began to feel we knew each other and were chums together in adversity, he would tell his story in his own way.

I met these men in Hanover Hospital, Osnabruck camp, and Blenhorst camp. I will not publish their names for fear of paining their relatives; but I have their names and the names of witnesses who heard the stories, which I will relate in my next chapter.

CHAPTER XXVIII

STORIES OF THE HEROES OF MONS

The statements which follow, and which were made to me while I was a prisoner of war in Germany, are not from picked soldiers who happened to have sensational stories. They were the only men whom I met who were prisoners in the early days.

Being blind myself, I could not, of course, see the men I was speaking to, but their tone impressed me very much as being men who had suffered in silence.

It was necessary for me to study very carefully what they said and impress it on my memory; and I have committed their statements to writing immediately on my release, for to carry written statements over the frontier was entirely out of the question.

I have put down nothing which was not told to me; neither have I tried to embellish or enlarge upon the statements made, or frame the words of the men in any way that might give an exaggerated impression of what occurred.

It is quite possible, however, that one or two incidents which I have reported from one man may be part of the story of one of the others.

But it can be taken as an absolute fact that, taken as a whole, the statements are a true recital of these men's own description of their experience.

The men were in no way excited. I obtained the information when chatting in the ordinary way over a pipe of tobacco, whenever the men had an opportunity of coming to my room to have a chat.

THE STORY OF PRIVATE ----, WEST KENT REGIMENT

"I was captured at Mons, sir. Been here over two years now.

Things are not so bad now as they were at first.

"I've seen some things which I shan't easily forget. I've been keeping them to myself because we dare not talk of them.

"Some of the fellows have had a terrible time. When the war is over any German who is met in England by any prisoners of war will have a rough pa.s.sage. There won't be any need to hold ourselves back any longer. My goodness, sir, they'll never get away alive!

"Not long after I was captured 70 English soldiers were taken away from the Lager one day. They never knew where they were going. They were taken to a munition factory; and when they found out where they were they pa.s.sed the word along to refuse to work.

"When the Germans told them what they had to do, they refused.

Their guards threatened them, and said it would be the worse for them if they didn't; but they wouldn't budge.

"Then they were taken out and made to stand in a row against a wall; and a firing-party was drawn up in front of them with loaded rifles, but not one of them flinched.

"They were told that unless they went to work they would be shot, and although the firing-party was standing in front of them not one of them would budge.

"The threat was not carried out, and they were sent back to the Lager.

"Before we started getting parcels we had a terrible time trying to live on the food they gave us. All they gave us was a cup of coffee and two slices of black bread in the morning; and for dinner and supper a basin of hot potato water. It was so thin and weak it was just like water that potatoes had been boiled in."

The soldier whose statement is given above has since been exchanged to Switzerland, owing to an injury to his sight, caused by the work he was employed upon while a prisoner.

THE STORY OF PRIVATE ---- OF THE LEICESTER REGIMENT

"I was captured during the retreat in August, 1914.

"My Company was left behind as a rear-guard, to enable the rest of the battalion to get away. Our trench was only about two feet deep. Although the Germans were coming on very fast and in enormous numbers, we were not allowed to retire.

"The Germans charged us three times. We lost all our officers, and although we kept on fighting they came on in such large numbers it must have been the main body, for they were all round us, and most of the fellows were killed or wounded.

"They had their revenge on us, too, when they got us, for the German soldiers who were told to look after us did terrible things. They took us one by one and made us run the gauntlet.

"I was bruised all over when I got through, and so were the other fellows.

"One chap when he was running the gauntlet was struck in the face by the b.u.t.t of a rifle; his nose was smashed and his face covered in blood, and he fell to the ground insensible. They threw him in a ditch, because they thought he was dead; but he was able to crawl out next morning.

"It was awful, that first night, and they didn't know what to do with us. They made us stand the whole night through in a loose wire entanglement, so that we couldn't walk about or sit down; and it rained like anything all night long.

"Then we were put in cattle trucks and sent into Germany, and for the first two days they did not give us any food or water.

"On the second day we stopped at a station and a woman came towards us with a large can of soup, and we thought we were going to be fed; but she brought it right up to us, and said: 'Ugh, dirty Englanders,' and poured it on to the line.

"I was taken to Soltau Lager; and the food they gave us consisted of a cup of acorn coffee in the morning and a small piece of black bread, which had to last all day, and wouldn't make more than two good slices.