COURT-MARTIALLED AND INSULTED
I have now reached a point in my narrative which dates us back to a few
days before Christmas 1915, when we learned that the German canteen was
to be done away with, from which hitherto we had been able to get so
much food, in order to augment both our parcels from home and the
greatly diminished Boche rations, and that hereafter we should be more
or less dependent on our parcels. Some of my readers may find this quite
an interesting point, as it indicates the period when the Boches really
began to feel the shortage of foodstuffs. So many people continually ask
me, “Are the Germans really as short of food as the papers say?” My
reply to this is, “Yes, only a jolly sight harder up than the papers
say.”
The old canteen was finally abolished with the advent of New Year’s Day
1916; and since the woman and her husband who had hitherto run the
canteen also ran the whole show, they had a terrific amount of stuff to
remove--all the kitchen utensils necessary to run a mess for three
hundred and fifty officers. We had a little hand in the removal, as I
will explain. Early in the morning of Christmas Day a Canadian officer
came to me and asked me for the loan of my big basket before mentioned,
also for some money, as he knew me to be in possession of a certain
amount. His idea was to get into the basket, let himself be carried down
by a couple of the British orderlies, and deposited outside the kitchen
door with some dozens of other packages, amongst them a couple of
baskets of similar type full of linen and plates. Accordingly we got him
into the basket, called up the orderlies, and gave them orders where to
deposit the baskets. All went well; the orderlies carrying the basket
passed the sentries without trouble, since most of the orderlies had
been detailed to help the canteen people remove their stuff. A couple of
large pantechnicons were standing at the guard-room gate, being rapidly
filled with the packages, when my basket’s turn came. It was evidently
too heavy, and unfortunately a Boche orderly came out of the kitchen
that moment and offered to give a hand. Just as he was about to lift it
the Canadian officer wriggled or made some movement. Anyway, the Boche
suggested looking inside in case of a cat or something being there,
though he had absolutely no suspicion of a prisoner whatever. Proceeding
to the kitchen to fetch the key, as it was padlocked, they discovered
that the basket did not belong to the canteen people at all. Immediately
they started to cut it open, and inside of course they discovered the
“Jack-in-the-box,” who rose up with a wild yell. The Boches nearly died
from heart failure.
However, they collared him and all his paraphernalia, also the money,
which he was not quick enough to get rid of. He was taken to the
commandant in the usual fashion, and stripped naked, whilst they even
ripped up the seams of his tunic in their frantic efforts to discover
some forbidden article or evidence against another person, as accessary
before the fact.
As his trial, and incidentally mine, proceeded, it was clearly evident
that the Boches suspected that we had been helped by the guard or some
German in the camp. There was absolutely no evidence to prove this, and
no reason for their suspicions whatever, but the Boche authorities were
most positive about it, so much so that the wretched canteen people were
arrested the day after their departure, and shoved in a little jail in
Dresden, pending the examination of the court-martial. We chuckled over
this, since the canteen people were absolutely innocent, and had grown
rich at our expense in the past. Shortly after the first inquiry the
basket was traced to me, and then the fun started. The commandant
insisted that I had given the Canadian the basket for the purpose of
escape. I said I hadn’t, that I had been merely asked for the loan of
the basket, and that as I was not in need of it at the time I had
naturally complied, and that British officers were not in the habit of
asking their friends what they wanted to do with articles which were
lent to them.
After this, for a day or two, the affair, in so far as I was concerned,
blew over. Of course the Canadian officer was confined to cells. One day
I was again called up, and informed that I had not only given the basket
but also five hundred marks to the Canadian. Of course I asked them to
prove it; then they produced a written statement from the Canadian,
acknowledging that I had given him the five hundred marks, after which
it was no longer any use denying the fact. They extracted this
information by telling the Canadian that the officer who had given him
the basket had also owned up to giving him five hundred marks. Their
object was to convict the Canadian of the serious charge of bribing the
guards, which was being brought against him. Like an idiot, he fell into
the trap, and so we both got caught.
In a few days the members of the court-martial arrived--a full colonel,
equal to a brigadier with us, a major, and a captain--and a court of
inquiry was held forthwith, when I was accused of having bought the
basket a few weeks before in the canteen. This being so, it was alleged
I purchased it for the purpose of escaping or aiding others to do so,
but I was told that, if I would make a clean breast of the affair, they
would try to make my punishment as light as possible. Very oily they
tried to be; but I was not going to be taken in by soft words. Then I
was accused of providing the money. Both the money and the basket I
explained satisfactorily; but the verdict was that, seeing I was
incapable of behaving myself in a good camp, I should be sent away for
punishment. “Now,” I said, “I will just show you to what extent you
Germans are capable of miscarrying justice. I did not buy that basket
three weeks ago, nor did I buy it in the canteen,” at which a general
smile passed round the court, and the canteen record-book was brought
forth, showing the date, etc., when I bought the basket. The accusation
of falsehood was then added to the list of my other crimes. I then
started to prove that I purchased the basket over three months ago at
the camp at Clausthal. So convincing was my evidence that the court
closed, pending inquiry from Clausthal. The report which came back
endorced my statement. In the end they could bring nothing tangible
against me except the money, which I explained by showing them a cheque
written on the 1st of January 1916 from the Canadian officer in exchange
for five hundred marks in money, which, as I explained, I had no use for
myself. Finding some one who had, I naturally exchanged it for a cheque
which I could send home. Thus in so far as I was concerned the affair
blew over. The Canadian was, however, removed from Bischofswerda, and is
now in Switzerland, having been sent there owing to ill health, probably
brought about by bad conditions in the camp he was sent to. I may
mention that there was another Canadian officer involved in this little
episode, but since he is still a prisoner it would be wise to say
nothing of his share in the matter.
Perhaps it is worth while mentioning that we tried our best to make New
Year’s Day a cheery one, and almost succeeded in making ourselves
believe we were having a good time. Since the canteen had been broken up
each room cooked and prepared its own dinner, so between Christmas
puddings from home and all sorts of luxuries we certainly had a good
feed. We had also been able to get permission to buy a little
wine--awful stuff, but heady. The result was that a little pent-up
energy was let loose in breaking each other’s beds. The beds at
Bischofswerda were roughly constructed wooden ones, with wooden
bed-slats, on which rested a straw palliasse. By taking a run and jump
and landing immediately on top of the mattress, the whole thing broke
with a beautiful rending crash, sweet music to the ears of a prisoner
whose energies and spirits have always to be under constant restraint.
Of course there was the devil to pay with the Boches, and the bill
rendered by them on the following morning was terrific. All sorts of new
rules and regulations came out with regard to the beds, such as “It is
forbidden to sit or take exercise on the beds.” This was quite amusing,
since there were not enough chairs to go round, so I presume we were
supposed to recline on the floor. Also football was prohibited for a few
days, and there were sundry other _strafes_. Personally I was not able
to join in the bed-breaking competition, but to see others venting their
feelings was the next best thing.
The New Year, 1916, was welcomed by us all as a joyous advent, since we
felt quite sure in our own minds that victory must crown our arms before
the year was out, and that we should once more be able to call our souls
our own. What optimistic feelings we had when, as week after week went
by, the German food rations became shorter and less wholesome. Seeing
that we could no longer buy food from the canteen, we thought the end
must be in sight.
We were now almost entirely dependent on our parcels from home. Should
they have been lost or delayed in the post things would have gone very
badly with us. Fortunately our parcels arrived both frequently and
regularly. The same surprised us very much, seeing that we had had many
opportunities of discovering that the Boches themselves were getting
perilously hard up for food of every kind. We had expected that a great
number would have been either stolen or rifled. In a few cases there
were a few things extracted, but not as a general rule, which speaks
well for the German postal officials.
I have already referred to the Boche lieutenant who acted as official
interpreter to the French and British, and of how he tried to make our
conditions harder to bear than they were already. It is difficult to lay
a direct and plausible charge against this swine, but every one can
easily understand that in a life such as ours it was the little things
which preyed upon the mind, the petty insults and ill-treatment. The
very way this man Harbe said “Good morning” was an insult. Some of us
used to receive the periodical called _The Play_, which everybody is
acquainted with. Harbe would confiscate this from all parcels, on the
ground that the morals of the British and French officers were so bad
that the German authorities felt it their duty to supervise the
literature in the cause of _Kultur_. Harbe would carefully explain this
to our faces, and instead of giving him one in the eye for his insolence
we had to stand and grind our teeth. Such a speech from a German second
lieutenant to a British or French senior officer was of course
disgraceful. On several occasions when French officers were writing both
to their wives and lady friends he interchanged the envelopes. I don’t
suppose he caused any trouble, but it describes the type of man who more
or less ruled our lives at Bischofswerda, a camp which was in most
respects quite a good one.
With regard to parcels from home containing books, Harbe would, as I
said before, take months to censor them, and then would frequently
withhold even such works as Dickens or other harmless books. When
official searches took place, this beast made offensive comments on the
photographs of one’s relations; and when large parcels came from home of
foodstuffs, he would make objection to the amount and the quality of
food sent.
“Why, chicken and tongue, that is a luxury, and prisoners are not
allowed luxuries. You may have it this time, but you must not send for
any more luxuries, or they will be confiscated. You spend too much money
on food. Look at me; I live on the ration I receive: why can’t you?”
“Well, you see, we have not been brought up that way,” was my reply to
this question.
Of course I was had up before the commandant for impertinent replies,
but on explaining that I had only been defending myself against an
attack by Harbe on the amount and quality of foodstuffs sent from home
the commandant dismissed me, and I rather think it was Harbe who got
told off. He once said that a prisoner of war was a man in disgrace, who
had no rights, and who should not be allowed to amuse himself in any
way. He said he ought to be made to feel the shame of his position!