BREAKING US IN AT SENNELAGER
No doubt the pompous adjutant plumed himself upon his tirade and the
impression it had created among the guards. But at the time it was as so
much Greek to us. We wondered what it all meant and what had prompted
his strange speech.
It was not until my return home that I was able to appreciate the
reason. But the bitterness with which he delivered his harangue
certainly proved that he believed the stories which had evidently been
sedulously circulated throughout Germany relative to the alleged
mal-treatment and torture of German military prisoners by the British.
Unfortunately, no steps apparently were taken to disprove these
deliberate lying statements for which we had to pay the penalty.
But I was not reassured by the Adjutant's honeyed words concerning the
example which Germany proposed to set to the British. I guessed that
something which would not redound to our welfare and comfort was in the
air. It is the German method to preach one thing and to practise
something diametrically opposite. I had already learned this. Nor was I
destined to be mistaken in my surmise.
A little later there was another parade. The officer roared,
"All those who are engineers step out!"
A number, including myself, although absolutely ignorant of the craft,
stepped out, because here was the opportunity to secure some form of
active employment.
"You are engineers?" he shouted.
We nodded assent.
"Can you build a drain?"
Again we nodded affirmatively.
We were marshalled, and one of us, Mr. C----, who was a civil engineer,
was selected as leader. We were marched off and set to work to dig a
drain for the camp.
We built that drain, but it was necessity's labour lost. We were not
provided with proper drain pipes but made an open conduit. We had to go
to the quarry to get the stone, which we broke into small pieces, and
these were set out in concave form at the bottom of the trench we had
excavated after the manner in which cobble stones are laid. I believe it
was considered to be an excellent piece of work, but unfortunately it
was of little use. The first wind and rain that came along dumped the
sand into it with the result that it became filled up.
A day or two later there was another parade. Once more the officer stood
before us with a long sheet of paper in his hand.
"All those who can do wire-pulling stand out!"
Those who knew about what he was talking advanced to form a little
group.
"All those who are gardeners stand out!"
More men advanced and another group resulted.
The officer went right through his list calling out a long string of
trades and callings. The result was our sub-division into a number of
small units, each capable of fulfilling some task. A sentry was
appointed to each group and we were hurried off to the particular toil
for which we considered ourselves to be fitted, and about which I will
say more later.
If the accommodation at the "luxurious hotel" was wretched the routine
and cuisine were worse. We were under military discipline as it is
practised in Prussia, and it was enforced with the utmost rigour. We
were not permitted to speak to an officer under any pretext whatever.
Any complaints or requests had to be carried to the authorities through
our "Captain," who was also the officially recognised interpreter. If we
met an officer we were commanded to raise our hats.
[*gap]
The day started at 6.0 a.m., with parade. If we desired to have a wash
and shave we had to be astir an hour earlier because otherwise we were
not allowed to perform those essential duties until late in the evening.
After parade we had breakfast--a basin of lukewarm "coffee" made from
acorns roasted and ground, which we had to fetch, and with which neither
milk nor sugar was served.
At seven o'clock we started the day's work, which was continued without
respite until mid-day. At least that was the official order, but one or
two of the guards were far from being harsh towards us. In the middle of
the morning, as in our case, the warder, after a wary look round, would
ask if we would like to rest for ten minutes to snatch something to eat
if we had it. Needless to say the slight respite was greatly
appreciated. But it was by no means the general practice. One or two of
the sentries were so deeply incensed against England that they took the
opportunity to bait and badger the men in their charge without mercy.
They kept the prisoners under them going hard without a break or pause.
At noon we returned to barracks for dinner. Arming ourselves with our
basins we scrambled down to the cook-house for our rations. It was
red-cabbage soup, and it was never varied. But it was the strangest soup
I have ever seen made or tasted, more particularly during the early
days.
There was a big cauldron with boiling water. Alongside was a table on
which the cabbages were cut up. A handful of cabbage was picked up and
dumped into the cauldron. Directly it hit the water the cabbage was
considered to be cooked and was served out. Consequently the meal
comprised merely a basin of sloshy boiling water in which floated some
shreds of uncooked red cabbage. Sometimes the first batch of men
succeeded in finding the cabbage warmed through: it had been left in the
water for a few seconds. But the last batch invariably fared badly. The
cooks realising that there would be insufficient to go round forthwith
dumped in two or three buckets of cold water to eke it out. Sometimes,
but on very rare occasions, a little potato, and perhaps a bone which
had once been associated with meat, would be found in the basin lurking
under a piece of cabbage leaf. Ultimately some French and Belgians were
put in charge of the kitchen. Then there was a slight improvement. The
cabbage was generally well-cooked and the soup was hot. But although
these cooks did their best, it did not amount to much, for the simple
reason that the authorities would not permit any further ingredients
whatever.
At 2.0 p.m., there was another parade, followed by a return to work
which was continued without intermission for another four hours. At six
in the evening we returned to barracks for a third parade after which we
were dismissed for tea. This was another far from appetising meal,
merely constituting a repetition of the breakfast ration--a basin of
lukewarm acorn coffee without milk or sugar. In addition to the
foregoing we were served with a portion of a loaf of black bread on
alternate mornings. This supply, if you got it, had to last six meals.
It will be realised that our wardens were far from being disposed to
feed us up. We grumbled against the rations, their monotony and
insufficiency, but we received no amelioration of our condition. In
fact, our petitions were ignored. We were told that if we wanted more or
greater variety of food we must buy it from the canteen. We had to act
upon this recommendation just to keep ourselves alive.
The canteen was run by the most unprincipled scoundrel I have ever met.
He was a civilian speculator who saw the chance to fatten on the
British prisoners. He fleeced us in two ways. Not only were his prices
extortionate, but he gave a ridiculous exchange for British currency,
especially gold. After considerable persuasion and deliberation he would
change a half sovereign for 7½ marks--7s. 6d. We complained but could
get no redress for such a depreciation. Other coins were in proportion.
Brödchen in limited quantities were brought in every day. We could buy
these at 5 pfennigs--one halfpenny--apiece, or in the early days three
for 10 pfennigs. The latter practice was abandoned when the pinch of
flour shortage commenced to be felt. The brödchen came in during the
night, and owing to the totally inadequate quantity purchased to meet
our needs, one had to be about early to secure a supply. I, with others,
have often been up at four o'clock in the morning, lounging around the
canteen, so as to be among the first to be served when it opened at five
o'clock. The scenes which were enacted around the canteen in the early
morning are indescribable. Civilians strangely clad, and later badly
wounded, limping soldiers, sickly and white, waited patiently, no matter
what the weather, to buy a little bread.
The necessity to depend upon the canteen for a sufficiency of food to
keep us alive hit those who were blessed with little money extremely
hard. There was one man--he said he was an Englishman, although I have
my doubts about it--who was brought to the camp. He had not a farthing
in his pocket. He said his home was near the frontier, and that he often
slipped across it for a ride on his bicycle. He related that he had been
caught during one of these excursions, to find himself ultimately at
Sennelager. That man was a mystery. He was kept alive by the others more
or less, and he accompanied us to various prisons. But subsequently he
obtained his papers in a mysterious manner, and was seen no more. He
vanished in the darkness as it were, and the German guards were not
disposed to talk about him. It has always been our suspicion that he
was sent among us with an ulterior motive which it is impossible to
divine.
Those who could not purchase supplies from the canteen were assisted by
their more fortunate comrades. The lucky ones divided their purchases so
that the unfortunate individuals might not feel their position or suffer
want. This practice was tangibly assisted by one or two prisoners who
were well supplied with money, especially Prince L----, who became the
general favourite of the camp from his fellow-feeling, camaraderie,
sympathy, and sportsmanship.
One morning he came across a poor prisoner who looked very ill. He
appeared to be half starved, as indeed he was from his inability to buy
any food. After a short conversation the Prince slipped five sovereigns
into the man's hand and bolted before he could be thanked. Unfortunately
this poor fellow is still in prison, but he has never forgotten the
Prince's kindness.
The day after our arrival at Sennelager the Prince came to me and drew
my attention to my shirtless condition. I explained the reason for its
disappearance and that I could not get another as the authorities were
still holding my heavy baggage containing further supplies. He said
nothing as he went away, but a quarter of an hour later he returned with
a new garment from his own kit which he forced me to accept. Another
day, the party with which I was working were coming in to the evening
meal. He hailed us and invited one and all to accompany him to the
canteen to have a chop with him. That was the finest meal I had tasted
since my feast in Wesel prison. Some time later Prince L---- succeeded
in getting home. Although he was heartily congratulated upon his good
fortune, his absence was sorely felt by those whom he was in the habit
of befriending.
At nine o'clock we had to be in bed. Some of the more untameable spirits
rebelled at the order to extinguish lights at this hour, but in our
barrack Captain K---- rigidly insisted that the regulation should be
observed. He feared the antagonism of the officers might be aroused, in
which event we should be made to suffer for our fractiousness. The
disputes between the prisoners and the sentries over the lights were
interminable. The men would be ordered to extinguish their oil lamp. If
they did not respond with sufficient alacrity the sentry cluttered up
and put it out himself. At a later date, however, the hour for "lights
out" was extended to 10 p.m.
The German nation is ever held up as the world's apostle of hygiene and
sanitary science. However true this may be in regard to civic and rural
life it certainly does not apply to prison and military existence. We
were occupying the quarters normally assigned to recruits. Yet
Sennelager was absolutely devoid of the most primitive features of a
safe sanitary system. There was an open cesspool within a stone's throw
of the barracks, the stench from which, during the heat of the summer,
may be better imagined than described. No disinfectants whatever were
used, and at intervals of three days it was emptied by the crudest means
imaginable, on which occasions the barracks were not only untenantable
but absolutely unapproachable. In fact, the conditions were so primitive
and revolting that the outbreak of an epidemic was momentarily expected,
not only by ourselves but by the authorities as well.
This danger was brought home to us when we were compelled to submit to
the ordeal of vaccination. Even this task was carried out under
conditions which no other civilised country would permit for a moment,
for the simple reason that antiseptic precautions were conspicuous by
their complete absence. The order arrived that we were to be vaccinated
on such and such a morning "in the interests of the camp--both prisoners
and soldiers." We were ordered to line up in a queue outside a small
building which we were to enter singly in succession. We were commanded
to have our arms bared to the shoulder in readiness. Vaccination was not
carried out by Dr. Ascher, the official medical attendant to the camp,
but by a young military doctor who came especially for the purpose.
Whether it was because the temperature within the small building was too
sultry or not I cannot say, but the vaccinator decided to complete his
work in the open air, the fact that a dust-storm was raging
notwithstanding. The military doctor was accompanied by a colleague
carrying a small pot or basin which evidently contained the serum. The
operation was performed quickly if crudely. The vaccinator stopped
before a man, dipped his lance or whatever the instrument was into the
jar, and gripping the arm tightly just above the elbow, made four big
slashes on the muscle. The incisions were large, deep, and
brutal-looking. Then he passed to the next man, repeating the process,
and so on all along the line. He took no notice of the dust which was
driving hither and thither in clouds.
Whether by misfortune or mishap I received four striking gashes, and the
shape of the incisions made me wonder whether the vaccinator thought he
was playing a game of noughts and crosses with a scalpel upon my arm.
After we had been wounded in this manner we were in a quandary. Our arms
were thickly covered with the drifting sand. Our shirt sleeves were
equally soiled. Consequently infection of the wound appeared to be
inevitable whatever we did. In this unhappy frame of mind and dirty
condition we were dismissed. Unfortunately for me I proved resistant to
the serum, and had to submit to the operation a second time with equally
abortive results. One or two of the prisoners suffered untold agonies,
blood-poisoning evidently setting in to aggravate the action of the
serum.
The primitive sanitary arrangements which prevailed brought one plague
upon us. We suffered from a pestilence of flies which under the
circumstances was not surprising, everything being conducive to their
propagation. They swarmed around us in thick black clouds. They recalled
the British housefly, only they were much larger, and extremely
pugnacious. Life within the barracks became almost impossible owing to
their attacks and the severity of their stings, which set up maddening
irritation. We petitioned the authorities to allow us a supply of
fly-papers. After considerable demur they acquiesced, but we could not
use them, or rather they were used up too rapidly. The evening we
received them we decided to attach a few to the ceiling, but before we
could fix them in position their fly-catching capacities were exhausted.
They were covered with a heaving, buzzing black mass of insects within a
minute. So we abandoned fly-catching tactics.
This pestilence harassed us sorely during our meals. They settled
everywhere and upon everything. While butter or margarine were
unobtainable at the canteen we were able to purchase a substance which
resembled honey in appearance, colour, and taste. Indeed we were told
that it was an artificial product of the beehive. When we spread this
upon our bread the flies swarmed to the attack, and before the food
could be raised to our mouths the bread was not to be seen for flies. At
first we spent considerable effort in brushing the insects away, but
their numbers were too overwhelming to be resisted, so we were compelled
to run the risk of the flies, and I, in common with others, have eaten
bread, honey, and flies as well! It took considerable time and effort to
master such a revolting meal, but under these conditions, it was either
flies or nothing, so we ran the risk of the insects, although it cannot
be said that they contributed to the tastiness of an already indifferent
food, or our peace of mind, because we could not dismiss thoughts of the
cesspool which the flies made their happy hunting-ground during the
periods between meals.
Infraction of the rules and regulations were frequent, for the simple
reason that they were never explained to us. We had to learn them as
best we could--invariably through the experience of punishment. This
state of affairs placed us at the mercy of the guards. Those who were
venomously anti-British expended their savagery upon us on every
occasion. For the slightest misdemeanour we were consigned to the cells
for one, two, three, or more days. The cell recalled my domicile in
Wesel, and I must confess that I made the acquaintance of its uninviting
interior upon several occasions through inadvertently breaking some
rule. But the others fared no better in this respect. It was cells for
anything.
This prison was a small masonry building, fitted with a tiny grating. It
was devoid of all appointments, not even a plank bed being provided. To
sleep one had to stretch one's self on the floor and secure as much
comfort as the cold stone would afford. Bread and water was the diet.
All exercise was denied, except possibly for the brief stretch
accompanied by the sentry to fetch the mid-day meal of soup, assuming
the offence permitted such food in the dietary, from the cook-house.
Conversation with a fellow-creature was rigidly _verboten_. It was
solitary confinement in its most brutal form.
The method of punishment was typically Prussian. If one upset the guard
by word or deed, he clapped you in the cell right-away and left you
there. Possibly he went off to his superior officer to report your
offence. But the probability was that he did not. Indeed it was quite
likely that he forgot all about you for a time, because the sentry at
the door never raised the slightest interrogation concerning a prisoner
within. More than once a prisoner was forgotten in this manner, and
accordingly was condemned to the silence, solitude, and dismal gloom of
the tiny prison until the guard chanced to recall him to mind.
During my period of incarceration at Sennelager the number of civil
prisoners brought in to swell our party was somewhat slender. They came
in small batches of ten or twelve, but were often fewer in number. They
invariably arrived about two o'clock in the morning. Then the sentry
would come thumping into the barrack, his heavy boots resounding like
horse's hoofs and his rifle clanging madly. Reaching the room he would
yell out with all the power of his lungs, thus awaking every one,
"Dolmetscher! Dolmetscher!" (Interpreter! Interpreter!) "Get up!" That
luckless individual had to bestir himself, tumble into his clothes and
hurry to the office to assist the authorities in the official
interrogation of the latest arrivals. This was one of the little worries
which were sent to try us, but we soon became inured to the rude
disturbance of our rest, in which the average sentry took a fiendish
delight.
By the time the first Sunday came round, and having nothing to do--all
labour was suspended, although no religious service was held--I decided
to wash my solitary shirt. I purchased a small cake of cheap rough soap
from the canteen, got a wooden tub, and stripping myself to the waist,
washed out the article in question outside the barrack door to the
amusement of my colleagues. While I was busily engaged in this necessary
occupation I was attracted by tittering and chattering. Looking up I
found I was the object of curiosity among a crowd of civilians dressed
in their Sunday best. Together with my fellow-prisoners I hurriedly
retired to the sanctuary of our barracks.
Later we learned that on Sundays the residents of Paderborn and the
countryside around were free to enter the camp to have a look at the
British prisoners. Indeed they were invited. They stalked and wandered
about the camp in much the same manner as they would have strolled
through the Zoological Gardens in Berlin, looking at us as if we were
strange exotic animals, chattering, laughing, and joking among
themselves at our expense. We considered this an unwarrantable
humiliation, and we countered it by the only means within our power. We
resolutely stayed indoors until the gaping crowds had gone. This
diversion of the German public, if such it may be called, speedily fell
into desuetude, not because the novelty wore off, but because the
"Engländer" were never to be seen, so that the six-mile tramp from
Paderborn to Sennelager and back was merely wasted. It was a bitter
disappointment to the curiosity-provoked crowds, but we scored a
distinct success.
The first Sunday I had to wander about shirtless, the only garment of
this character which I possessed hanging upon the line to dry. But the
sight of a crowd of us, on Sunday mornings, stripped bare to our waists,
washing and scrubbing the only shirts to our backs, became quite a
common sight later, and I must confess that we made merry over this
weekly duty for a time.
We had not been in Sennelager many days before we discovered to our cost
that we were all suffering solitary confinement. We were completely
isolated from the outside world. We were not permitted to receive any
letters or parcels. Neither were we allowed to communicate with anyone
outside. Newspapers were also sternly forbidden. These regulations were
enforced with the utmost rigour during my stay at this camp.
Consequently we knew nothing whatever about the outside world, and the
outside world knew nothing about us. Early in September I did succeed in
getting two post-cards away, but I ascertained afterwards that they did
not reach their destinations until some weeks after I had left
Sennelager. We felt this isolation very keenly because one and all were
wondering vaguely what our wives, families, friends, or relatives were
doing.
About ten days after our arrival at this hostelry there was a parade.
The adjutant strutted before us with the pride of a peacock, and in his
pompous voice cried:
"All prisoners who reside in Germany because of their business
connections, or who are married to German wives, will be permitted to
return to their homes!"
This announcement precipitated wild excitement because it affected from
twenty to thirty prisoners. Needless to say they packed their bags with
frantic speed, as if fearing cancellation of the welcome news, and
emerging from the barracks hastened to receive their passes to make
their way to Paderborn. Among them was the head of our barrack, Captain
K----. A strong friendship had sprung up between him and me, and we
shook hands vigorously though silently. He invited many others and
myself, in the event of our being given permission to move about the
country, to come and stay at his house near C----.
While every man Jack of us who was left behind was heavy in his heart
and became sad because he was not numbered among the privileged few, we
were by no means cast down. As the small party of free men walked
towards the entrance we gave them a frantic and wild parting cheer. It
was the first time we had let ourselves go and we did it with a
vengeance. The German officers and men started as if electrified, and
looked at us in amazement. They thought we had gone mad. Beside us stood
one of the guards. He turned to us, his eyes and mouth wide open, to
mutter:
"My God! You English are a funny race!"
"What's the matter?" we returned.
"What? You cheer those fellows who are going home and yet you are being
left here!"
"Why not? Good luck to them!" and we let fly another terrific huzza to
speed them on their way.
The guard shook his head, thoroughly puzzled. He did not understand the
psychology of the British race any more than his superiors.
"But why do you cheer?" pursued the guard.
"Because we are English," swiftly retorted one of our party. The guard
said no more.
A day or two after the departure of our colleagues there was a change in
the command of the camp. The old General was superseded by a man whose
name will never be forgotten by the British prisoners of Sennelager
Camp. They will ever couple him with the infamous instigator of the
"Black Hole of Calcutta."
This was Major Bach. Upon his assumption of the command he inaugurated
what can only be truthfully described as a Reign of Terror. Tall, of
decided military bearing, he had the face of a ferret and was as
repulsive. With his sardonic grin he recalled no one so vividly as the
"Villain of the Vic!"
The morning after his arrival he paraded us all, and in a quiet suave
voice which he could command at times stated:
"English prisoners! Arrangements are being made for your instant return
to England. A day or two must pass before you can go, to enable the
necessary papers to be completed and put in order. But you will not have
to do any more work."
We were dismissed and I can assure you that we were a merry, excited
crowd. We jumped for joy at the thought that our imprisonment had come
to an end. Like schoolboys we hastened to the barracks and feverishly
set to work packing our bags, whistling and singing joyously meanwhile.
Suddenly the bugle rang out summoning us to parade again. We rushed out,
all agog with excitement, and half hoping that our release would be
immediate. The Adjutant confronted us and in a loud voice roared:
"English prisoners! You've been told that you are going back to England.
That was a mistake. You will get to work at once!"