Slowly but with terrible certainty the work of encircling us went on day
by day. A month ago we had seen experts wandering round the barbed-wire
fence which enclosed us. Then the surveyors had followed, and here and
there, at regular intervals, had dug up spadefuls of earth. A certain
inactivity followed, which, in spite of every experience, raised a faint
hope in the heart of the prisoners.
But when some of our comrades appeared in the camp carrying pickaxes and
spades, hope vanished.
Slowly, very slowly, as if to show their regret, the squad went to the
first landmark. There they halted, and the tools were thrown on the
ground. The sentinels, dressed in brown overcoats, ornamented at the
collar by a black number on a red background, stood with their guns
slung on their shoulders, and shivered as they filled their pipes.
Already those who were curious hurried up, and, recognising some of
their comrades amongst the workers, began to talk to them, in spite of
the sentinels who, from fear of disturbances, kept the two groups
apart. From one side and the other exclamations burst forth. To show
their sympathy for their comrades forced to work, some teasingly
congratulated them on the haste they had shown to go and work for the
Boches. The others described their efforts to get out of the group of
able-bodied men, their various adventures and finally their capture. In
any case they assured their questioners of their firm determination not
to outrival the German workman! The gaiety, the vivacity and the wit of
these men were in striking contrast to the heaviness and sour looks of
the guard. Then the idlers asked for “tips,” but even the workmen who
knew the most could tell them nothing; they only knew one thing, that
which brute force taught them--they had got to do the work. But all of
them shook their heads sadly, as if to say: “It’s a bad job.” Nobody
indeed was ignorant of the object of this work, for it had been long
talked about. Some weeks before an interpreter had got wind of it, and
the news that he brought back spread through the camp like wildfire. At
first all cried out at such an invention, for good sense and humanity
revolted against it, and maintained it was impossible. Electricians
amongst us discussed it, and could not believe in it--it was
impracticable. To begin with, the installation would cost too much, and
then it would be a crime to leave at hand a constant danger of death.
The Germans were brutes, it was well known, but even they would never
dare to encircle their prisoners by a current of 5000 volts. The rumour
was, unfortunately, true.
Only the evening before, a well-known man in the French colony had
somewhat reassured the timorous by his learned arguments, and now the
nightmare had become reality. The jailers, jealous of their sandy soil,
begrudged a few feet to our prisoners, already cramped in a place whose
narrow limits were terribly oppressive. All round the perimeter the
Germans were going to cut off three or four metres to make an impassable
barrier; inside a double enclosure of barbed wire they were going to
install a third line of electrified wire which would ensure death to any
one touching it. Everybody lamented the loss of this narrow run of
earth, which was the promenade, the boulevard, the forum. There we
walked as far as possible to the outside of the camp, our eyes turned
towards the neighbouring forest, into which we gazed longingly, and the
sight of which enabled some of us to enjoy the illusion of liberty. The
eyes which turned from the hideous tents, where we lived crowded
together, lit up sometimes with a brighter glance at the happy
remembrance of a walk with our dear ones in a similar forest far away.
This illusion, this shadowy remembrance, was to be taken from us! We had
been able until now, by approaching near enough, to overlook one
barrier, but the presence of three lines of barbed wire between us and
the forest would destroy its lure, and increase the weight of our chains
and the misery of our captivity.
It was on this promenade surrounding the camp that we met in the morning
when work did not claim us. It was there that we walked, to and fro
chatting with friends about the probable length of the war and our
chances of victory. Optimistic speakers, in discourses backed by
irrefutable arguments, with well-founded reasonings, succeeded in
keeping up hope in the hearts of the discouraged. There it was, that at
the end of the day, when it began to get dark, we assembled, and in low
voices, like conspirators, commented on the news contained in our
letters from France, made out like so many puzzles from ambiguous
sentences, and the news learnt from the men who worked outside the camp.
And last of all, in the evening, before fires were put out, when the
greater number of us had gone to seek forgetfulness in sleep, came those
who sought for a moment’s solitude, to calm the anguish which tortured
the soul. We kept our gaiety for our comrades during the day; but in the
evening we could, without being cowardly, give ourselves up to the
discouragement that overwhelmed us. And again it was there that we came
to mourn for those who had fallen. We ground our teeth in thinking of
the crimes of the Hun and our powerlessness at not being able to go to
the help of the oppressed or the avenging of the dead.
These few feet of sand were sanctified to us by the noble feelings that
we had had there. They belonged to us, they formed our temple. It was a
sacrilege to deprive us of them.
To those who had planned flight, this work was the ruin of their hopes,
and each blow of the pickaxe sounded as the last turn of the key by an
unfeeling jailer to him condemned to die. Never had the men been a prey
to such agony as they now felt, for before hope had sustained them; now
the last chance of escape was gone.
There were other prisoners who, with sad eyes and looks of gloom,
watched anxiously the preparations. Our poor humanity is not exclusively
composed of dreamers and visionary lovers of liberty; it includes
practical people who enjoy bodily comforts, and when they cannot enjoy
the hot rays of the sun, like to warm their numbed limbs at a flaming
fire. For them the electric barrier meant simply a lack of fuel.
Once this barrier was finished they would no longer be permitted to
approach the enclosure and drag in, between the barbed wire, the dead
branches which the kindly fir-trees shed each day. And the winter was
here, each hour grew colder; the future might well look gloomy to those
poor devils, who were clothed in a ragged shirt with trousers and coat
in pitiable condition, reduced to finding in a litre of hot water, drunk
twice a day, the amount of heat necessary, according to the German
staff, to keep their emaciated bodies in health.
Everywhere consternation reigned, and despair. It was in vain for their
kind and more clever comrades to talk about the fun they would have in
playing tricks on the Boches. Nothing was more easy, said they, than to
throw a simple bit of barbed wire, which would hook on to the
electrified fence, and by its contact with the earth establish a short
circuit. In vain our orators talked about the trouble that that would
cause the Germans, the exploded leads, the painful searching
[Illustration: _Page 88._]
all along the line, the momentary interruption of the current and the
expense that would follow. One optimist held forth that he saw in this
development an excellent sign, an indication of undeniable weakness in
the German Army. Its losses had been such that already they were short
of men. The electric installation would permit them to spare 50 per
cent. of the sentinels. Moreover, the information lately received backed
up his theory. Had not one of the sentinels just told them that he was
going off that evening for the Russian front? Perhaps also they feared
the rising of the French prisoners, when they heard the thundering of
their friends--the 75’s--in the far distance. And these times were near!
In any case they must conclude from it that our arms were successful and
“Gaudeamus igitur.” But these speeches were of no use. With all their
subtleties what could they do against the brutality of visible realities
and palpable facts? They were going to be encircled. So one of us
regretted the beauty of the forest, another his liberty that vanished
just when he hoped to regain it, a third the comforting fire which was
to take the place of a meal and warm clothes.
To the last speaker a wag replied: “But, my dear fellow, you won’t be
cold. It is to warm us that the Boches have installed this apparatus.
They are blockaded by the Allied fleets and have no coal. Electricity,
you know, can be produced by waterfalls; that will cost the Boches
nothing. You see! Throughout the camp there will be warmth. The days
will come when we shall be too hot, you will be obliged to leave off
your overcoat. Then just see how practical these Boches are! They place
at a certain distance from these electrified wires a kind of barrier. It
is the drying ground. On these lines we shall hang our linen. They say
that electric heat kills the eggs of parasites. You see how fine it will
be. In the morning you can also toast your K. bread or your herring by
holding it at the end of a stick. Just consider a little how great are
the advantages of the installation. This fence that they are making
round the camp may be called an ‘Outside Central Heating Apparatus.’”
It was indeed all very fine, but the simple doubted, and, in any case,
preferred the flames which scorched their bodies and in which they saw
pictures of home.
* * * * *
Exclamations were heard. We distinguished the words “Los,” “Weg,” and
“Arbeiten.” We saw the imperious gestures, and the workmen having picked
up spades and pickaxes, went slowly towards the marked-out holes. The
tools were lifted painfully, with a fine sweep of the arm. They struck
the earth without energy. But numbers prevailed in spite of goodwill,
and the nothing done by each nevertheless came to something by the end
of the day.
The next day and during many days the men laboured. The holes were deep
and the posts solid enough to resist anything.
But here we must do justice to our fellows; they attacked their task
with a most praiseworthy moderation. One might have thought that, like
the Trappist’s fathers, the prisoners were digging their own graves, for
their ardour was such as would have made a road-maker of Paris turn pale
with scorn.
The day dawned at last when, all round the camp, stakes two metres high
stood white, shining and aggressive against the dark trunks of the
sweet-smelling firs so soothing with their beauty. The electricians,
recruited from our professionals, were told to lay the wires which were
to surround and support the electrified fencing. Pataud counselling a
strike was never more listened to, never more obeyed, than were our
friends who encouraged the engineers to waste time. For a long while one
might have thought that the installation would never be finished, and
again the hope sprang that peace would find this barbarity still in its
first stage.
But one fine day to our horror we saw the ends of the wire being joined.
The circuit was complete, the prison was shut for ever.
For one moment there was consternation amongst the wood-gatherers. They
could no longer get near the firs, and all stood there, with mouths
open, like sleepers rudely awakened from their dreams.
Then, as in all difficult circumstances, in the time of need a man was
found, “the man of the hour,” Claude, a timid collector of twigs, a man
so shy that he only dared to warm one hand at a time, rose up and showed
what was hidden in his heart.
Inspired by a flash of genius, and helped by an indomitable will, he
prepared to act. With an authority never suspected till now, he grouped
around him some of those who only yesterday had pushed him on one side
and looked at him disdainfully when he asked for a little of the heat
for his frozen limbs--heat that was in principle for all, but in fact
was the right of the strongest. One scarcely knew anything of him. All
day long he used to go searching for wood, and it was only towards
evening that he came with his load. And his load was always the
heaviest; it was a sort of insult and reproach to those who stayed all
day in the best places and warmed themselves with the wood that their
comrades had gathered. It was a little too strong for this small puny
man to want to teach them a lesson. The strong are made thus! They
cherish an unutterable contempt for those who serve them, and a
sovereign disdain for those who, out of love, become their slaves.
Well, Claude put himself at the head of a handful of men, who followed
him meekly. Like a captain sure of victory he led the phalanx. Near a
shed he stopped and leaned down under a window.
For one instant he sought for a mark, then he began to dig a hole in the
sand with his hands. Soon something glittered. With a glance round,
Claude made sure that his associates kept good watch, then he
triumphantly exhibited a small hand-saw in a perfect state. This
tool--between us, be it said--had been looked for by the Germans some
days before, as they were hastening to finish the huts. However, an
earnest and clamorous search by the authorities had brought no
information as to the lost tool. Only one man could have cleared up the
mystery, and he had determined to keep silent.
With, the saw in his hand, and escorted by his bodyguard, the leader
continued his march. They halted near one of the new boundary posts, and
Claude who, from his serious air, might have been a field-marshal at
least, took a folding measure from his pocket. The importance of his
mission gave him added stature. He no longer resembled the suppliant of
yesterday begging for a corner near the fire. With skilled hands he
measured the part of the post above the electric wire. As he was on the
point of making a mark immediately above the isolators, he stopped and
murmured something about “making a good job of it,” and made the groove
five centimetres higher. “Five from twenty-five,” he murmured, “leaves
twenty.”
Some passing German officers stopped to watch the men at work,
astonished and at the same time pleased at seeing our soldiers diligent
and serious, not at all their usual behaviour.
For a long time Claude measured, for a long time the saw worked, and one
by one the tops of the posts fell. These twenty centimetres of strong
post would certainly make a splendid log, so the men worked as hard as
possible, one sawing, another carrying. Depots of firewood were
organised, and till the evening they worked without stopping, hoarding
the precious logs, which after all were fully equal to dead branches.
It was only the next morning, when the foreman of the work arrived, that
the deed was discovered.
There was a fearful row. The fires were immediately put out by order and
the ashes scattered to the four winds. For several days a strict guard
prevented attempts to relight them. But soon the watch became relaxed,
and the sentinels, tired of pursuing abortive fires, ceased to go their
rounds. It was not long before the natural result followed and the
sparks of the first new fire were flying upwards. The logs were dug up
as they were wanted and gave our comrades pleasant warmth and a feeling
of well-being, of which for some time they had been deprived. They were
once again able to make hot drinks. The joy they felt in having “done”
their jailers added to the pleasure they felt in being able to warm
themselves.
When the sentinels were questioned on the subject they confessed to
having seen everything, but having noticed the apparent regularity and
good order of the men, they had not been suspicious, and confined
themselves to admiring the sense of economy which imbued all the
enterprises of their Kolossal administration. In their inmost hearts
they had doubtless chanted “Te Deum Laudamus” to the glory of their
omnipotent Kaiser, who knows and foresees everything.
This act of indiscipline on the part of the French was incomprehensible
to the German mind. They could not imagine another reasoning otherwise
than they did: “One must never do anything without an order, and if one
does something, then it must be because one has received an order;
moreover, the order can only come from a superior, who in every case is
right.” Therefore, if some one does something, it is well. But they are
too dull to realise that German logic is not universal logic and far
less French logic.
* * * * *
Once again our soldier-prisoners had gained a victory over their
thick-skinned guardians.
And that is how the encircling heating apparatus became central heating!
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE WHEELBARROWS]