Three Times and Out Part 16

"But I don't believe in nationalities any more; nationalities are a curse, and as long as we have them, the ruling cla.s.s will play us off, one against the other, to gain their own ends. There is only one race--the human race--and only two divisions of it; there are those who represent money rights and special privileges, and those who stand for human rights. The more you think of it, the more you will see the whole fabric of society resolving itself into these two cla.s.ses. The whole military system is built on the sacrifice of human rights."

I looked at him in astonishment.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am just a bridge-builder," he answered, "but I'm a follower of Liebknecht... We can't do much until the Prussian system is defeated.

There are just a few of us here--the guard who got you the blanket is one of us. We do what we can for the prisoners; sometimes we are caught and strafed.... There is no place for kindness in our army,"

he added sadly.

"I must go now," he said; "I heard one of the guards say we were going to be moved on to another camp. I may not see you again, but I'll speak to a guard I know, who will try to get the good soup for you. The Sergeant of the guard is all right, but some of them are devils; they are looking for promotion, and know the way to get it is to excel in cruelty. We shall not meet, but remember, we shall win!

Germany's military power will be defeated. Russia's military power is crumbling now, the military power of the world is going down to defeat, but the people of all nations are going to win!"

We stood up and shook hands, and he went out, locking me in the cell as before.

I have thought long and often of the bridge-builder of Trieste and his vision of the victory which is coming to the world, and I, too, can see that it is coming, not by explosions and bombardments, with the shrieks of the wounded and the groans of the dying--not that way will it come--but when these have pa.s.sed there shall be heard a still, small voice which will be the voice of G.o.d, and its words shall be--

"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE CELLS AT OLDENBURG

It was on February 3d that we were taken from Vehnemoor to Oldenburg, and when we started out on the road along the ca.n.a.l, roped together as before, Ted and I knew we were going up against the real thing as far as punishment goes, for we should not have Iguellden and the rest of the boys to send us things. We came out of the Vehnemoor Camp with somewhat of a reluctant feeling, for we knew we were leaving kind friends behind us. Ted had received the same treatment that I had in the matter of the blankets and the good soup--thanks to the friendly guard.

It was in the early morning we started, and as Vehnemoor was almost straight west of Oldenburg, we had the sun in our faces all the way in. It was good to be out again--and good to look at something other than board walls.

Our road lay along the ca.n.a.l which connected Vehnemoor with Oldenburg. Peat sheds, where the peat was put to dry after it was cut, were scattered along the ca.n.a.l, and we pa.s.sed several flat-bottomed ca.n.a.l-boats carrying the peat into Oldenburg. They were drawn by man-power, and naturally made slow progress.

The ca.n.a.l furnished a way of transportation for the small farmers living near it, too, whose little farms had been reclaimed from the bog, and their produce was brought into Oldenburg on the ca.n.a.l-boats.

We could see better-looking buildings back farther, where the land was more fertile. At one place we saw a ca.n.a.l-boat with sails, but as the day was still it lay inactive, fastened to an iron post.

The settlement seemed to be comparatively recent, judging by the small apple-trees around the buildings, and it looked as if this section of the country had all been waste land until the ca.n.a.l had been put through.

When we arrived at Oldenburg, which we did early in the morning, we were marched through its narrow streets to the military prison. We could see that the modern part of the city was very well built and up to date, with fine brick buildings, but the old part, which dates back to the eleventh century, was dirty and cheerless.

The prison to which we were taken was a military prison before the war, where the German soldiers were punished, and from the very first we could see that it was a striking example of German efficiency--in the way of punishment. Nothing was left to chance!

We were searched first, and it was done by removing all our clothing.

Then, piece by piece, the guard looked them over. He ran his hand under the collar of our shirts; he turned our pockets inside out; he patted the lining of our coats; he turned out our stockings and shook them; he looked into our boots. As he finished with each article, it was thrown over to us and we dressed again. Our caps, overcoats, braces, belts, and knives were taken away from us. They were careful to see that we should not be tempted to commit suicide.

When I saw my cap go, I wondered if my maps, which I had sewed in the pasteboard, would escape this man's hawk eyes. I thought I had lost my other maps, and wondered how we should ever replace them. But it would be time enough to think of that--when we got out.

The guard's manner was typical of the management at Oldenburg. It had no element of humanity in it. It was a triumph of _Kultur_. The men might as well have been dummies, set by a clock and run by electricity.

There was a blackboard on the wall which told how many prisoners were in the inst.i.tution and what they were getting. The strongest and worst punishment given is called "Streng Arrest," and the number who were getting it was three. The guard, while we were there, rubbed out the 3 and put in a 5.

Ted and I looked at each other.

"That's us," he said.

Our two little parcels were deposited in a locker downstairs, where other parcels of a like nature were bestowed, and we were conducted up a broad stair and along a pa.s.sage, and saw before us a long hall, lined with doors sheeted with steel.

The guard walked ahead; Ted and I followed. At last he unlocked a door, and we knew one of us had reached his abiding-place.

"I always did like a stateroom in the middle of the boat," Ted said, as the guard motioned to him to go in. That was the last word I heard for some time, for the guard said not a word to me. He came into the cell with me, and shut the iron door over the window, excluding every particle of light.

I just had time to see that the cell was a good-sized one--as cells go. In one corner there was a steam coil, but it was stone cold, and remained so all the time I was there. There was a shelf, on which stood a brown earthen pitcher for drinking-water--but nothing else.

Our footsteps rang hollow on the cement floor, which had a damp feeling, like a cellar, although it was above the ground floor.

Without a word the guard went out, and the key turned in the lock with a click which had a sound of finality about it that left no room for argument.

Well, it has come, I thought to myself--the real hard German punishment... they had me at last. The other time we had outwitted them and gained many privileges of which they knew nothing, and Malvoisin had cheered me through the dark hours.

Here there was no Malvoisin, no reading-crack, no friends, nothing to save us.

They had us!

We had staked the little bit of freedom we had on the chance of getting full freedom. It was a long chance, but we had taken it--and lost!

I knew the object of all their punishment was to break our wills and make us docile, pliable, and week-kneed like the Russians we had seen in the camps--poor, spiritless fellows who could give no trouble.

Well--we would show them they could not break ours!

The eight-mile walk had tired me, and I lay down on the platform to try to sleep, but it was a long time before I could close my eyes: the darkness was so heavy, so choking and horrible. If there had been even one gleam of light it wouldn't have been so bad, but I couldn't even see a gleam under the door, and every time I tried to sleep the silence bothered me--if I could only hear one sound, to tell me some one was alive and stirring about! Still, I kept telling myself, I must put it in, some way--I must--I must--I must.

When I awakened, my first thought was that it was still night! Then I remembered it was all night for me, and the thought set me shivering.

My hands were stiff and cold, and I missed my overcoat.

The waking-up was the worst time of all, for my teeth chattered and my knees trembled, so it was hard to stand. But when I had stamped up and down for a while, I felt better. It must be near morning, I thought. I should know when it was morning, because the guard would come and let me have ten minutes to sweep my cell, and then I should see Ted. I should perhaps get a chance to speak to him--even a wink would help!

It was a larger cell than the one at Giessen, and after sitting still for a while I got up and walked up and down. I could take four steps each way, by not stepping too far. My steps echoed on the cement floor, and I quite enjoyed seeing how much noise I could make, and wondered if anybody heard me. But when I stopped and leaned up against the wall, I could hear nothing. Then I sat down again and waited.

I remembered how, after the cells, the Strafe-Barrack did not seem too bad, for we could see people and talk occasionally; and after the Strafe-Barrack the prison-camp was comparative freedom, for we could get our parcels and read, and see the boys, so I thought I will pretend now that my punishment was sitting still.... I can't move a muscle; the cut-throat guard that was over us in the Strafe-Barrack is standing over me with his bayonet against my chest--I must not move--or he'll drive it in.... I wish I could change my position--my neck is cramped....

Then I jumped up and walked up and down, and tried to tell myself it was good to be able to move! But I caught myself listening all the time--listening for the guard to come and open the door!

It seemed a whole day since we came, and still there was no sound at the door. The guard must have forgotten us, I thought.... The guards at Vehnemoor forgot to bring us soup sometimes.... These mechanical toys may have run down; the power may have gone off, and the whole works have shut down. Certainly the lights seem to have gone out. I laughed at that. Well, I would try to sleep again; that was the best way to get the time in.

I tried to keep myself thinking normally, but the thought would come pushing in upon me, like a ghostly face at a window, that the guard had forgotten us. I told myself over and over again that we had come in at noon, and this was the first day; it was bound to be long, I must wait! They--had--not--forgotten us.