I called out joyfully, and my comrades, the men who had proved
themselves true and staunch, having joined me. The soldier made himself
understood, and tumbled to the fact that we had escaped from the land
of captivity.
"France, Russia, or Engländer?" he asked.
"Engländer!" I replied, with pride. Out came his hand, and I clasped
it. He greeted all three of us warmly, muttering his congratulations
the while. To a house close by he took us, fed us, and warmed us. It
was like a foretaste of heaven, and we could hardly believe that our
troubles were at an end.
We had struck the frontier, it appeared, in the State of Overyssel,
thirty to forty kilometres from the Münster camp, and we could not have
made a luckier strike. It was not long before we were put in touch with
the British Consul and were sent to the Sailors' Home at Rotterdam.
Everybody was kindness itself, and I shall never forget the good old
Dutch pastor who prayed with us that we might reach home in safety.
To each of us he gave a Testament, in which he wrote our names and his
own, together with the words, "Take God's gift, the gift of Eternal
Life, by believing in the Lord Jesus." Passports were soon obtained;
we were photographed just as we were, and at last we landed at Hull,
thankful with a big thankfulness.
Need I describe my home-coming? I had had no chance to prepare my
people, and I dropped down upon them like a visitor from Mars. It was
a brief visit to begin with, for my first duty was to report myself at
headquarters, and by the next train I was on my way to Chester, where I
was immediately granted a month's leave. What is to be done with me it
is for others to say, but I am hoping I shall get some of my own back
upon the Huns.
With scarcely an exception, you can say that the British in captivity
are in good heart and are not cowed or browbeaten. I am told that I am
one of the very few Britishers who have escaped, and I am not surprised
at that, for we are more strictly guarded than the French or Russians,
who are often permitted to work on farms from Monday to Saturday
without any guard whatever.
My impressions of Germany are of no value, for I saw little of the
civil population. But it was evident from the yarns spun us by the
soldiers that they are fed on lies and that a day of awakening will
come. To my mind, they are certainly suffering from the effects of the
blockade. When we first arrived in Germany food seemed plentiful, but
latterly the soldiers often asked us for biscuits and other things sent
us in the parcels which kept us alive.
Working parties on the farms were fed decently in 1914 and 1915, but
during these last months the farmers would give them a few potatoes and
a scrap of bacon, and excuse themselves on the ground that it was all
they had, and there was no food in the country. For what it is worth,
it is my opinion that Germany is kept going largely by the work of
prisoners of war. They labor on farms, they are sent into coal mines,
chemical works, and munition factories, they make and repair railways.
They work hard--from six in the morning till six at night--and their
wages are threepence a day. Whether the Germans still believe they
are winning I cannot say, but their treatment of prisoners has lately
improved, and this seems significant. Winning, the German is a bully
and a cad; beaten, he whines, and his temperament is reflected in his
conduct towards those who are in his power.