AT THE MERCY OF THE HUN--AND AFTER
A BASIN OF SOUP. HOSPITAL AT ST. QUENTIN. THE "OPEN SESAME"
A moment or two later something occurred which caused my wearied brain
to be roused again into activity. What could it mean?
I was again thinking hard, listening intently; something undefinable
had happened to suddenly revive my mental condition. Had I passed
away, and was this the next life? I felt like one who had awakened out
of a dream in the dead of night, conscious that some one or something
was moving near him.
"Englishman! Kamarade!"
Great God! I was found!
Had I the strength I should probably have screamed with joy, for that
was my impulse at hearing a human voice. A second later and my feeling
was to shrink from discovery. Surrender? Was it then to come to this,
after all?
I did not answer; it was not necessary.
He must have heard me shout; he must know where I am. I was unarmed
and helpless; what need to answer such a call? He would probably seek
me, and I should be found without need to foul my lips with an answer.
And then I felt that it was not my life that was being saved, but a
lingering death avoided by a murderous, but quick despatch. Well,
perhaps it was better it should come that way.
Presently I heard some one crawling towards me. A few pebbles rolled
down the slope, and there was silence again. I felt that he was
looking down at me. Again a shuffle, and a quantity of loose earth
rolled down the slope, and he was sliding down towards me.
The supreme moment had arrived. Would it be a bullet or a bayonet
thrust; and where would it strike me?
I lay perfectly still. He seemed to be bending over me undecidedly. I
thought he might believe me dead and go away without finishing me off,
to seek the cause of the shout elsewhere.
I raised myself on my elbow and turned my face towards him. Then, to
my astonishment he put his arms around my body and raised me up. What
strange wonder was this? He put my arm around his neck, and with his
own arm around my body, he raised me to my feet. But I could not
stand. Then, placing both arms firmly around me, he dragged me out of
the shell-holes. I felt myself being dragged several yards, and then
he stopped.
I heard many voices talking below me. What would happen next. Then
several hands caught hold of me, and I was lifted into a trench.
Some one gave an order, and I was dragged along the trench and around
a corner. More voices seemed to come from still farther below. Some
one picked hold of my feet, and I was carried down several steps. I
was in a dugout.
It seemed warm and cosy. There were officers around me. Here must be
the company commander whom I had driven away two days before. Now he
could take his revenge. What mercy could I hope from him?
A voice asked me a question in English. But by this time I had
collapsed completely. I tried to speak, but no sound would come from
my throat. My head seemed to be an enormous size; my jaw would not
move. I felt some one examine my tunic and examine my pockets. No,
there were no papers there. I heard some one say "Hauptmann." Then
more talking.
A cigarette was put in my mouth. I held it between my swollen lips,
but could not inhale. A sharp command was given, and once more I was
lifted up on to some one's back, and was being dragged down a long
communication trench.
I was able presently to realise that I was in a dressing-station, for
I was laid on a stretcher. Some one bent over me, evidently a medical
officer.
My throat was parched. Oh, how thirsty I was! He was saying something
to me in English in a very kindly manner. He opened a bottle of
Seltzer water, and, lifting me up, placed it to my lips. Oh, how
thirsty I was! I held out my hand for more. Bottle after bottle of
Seltzer water was opened, and I drank one after the other. In my
haziness I seemed to be wondering how they came to be supplied with
such quantities of Seltzer water so close up to the front line.
He opened up my tunic and rubbed something on my chest. I heard him
say, very gently:
"Injection against tetanus. It won't hurt you"; and then I felt a very
slight pin prick. He laid me down again. My head was throbbing.
How hot and stuffy it was! I heard some groans, voices were speaking
in a low tone. I again heard the word, "Hauptmann."
* * * * *
Of the days which followed I have only a hazy recollection. My brain
and body sustained during the period of danger and strain, collapsed
completely, and during the next six days I had only occasional periods
of sensibility.
I can, therefore, only recall the facts between the time of my being
picked up and my arrival at Hanover, six days later, in a disjointed
manner.
Telling only of incidents, which stand out here and there in my
memory, it must be borne in mind that during the operations of
September the 8th and 9th I had felt the weight of my responsibility;
and the great shock caused by my wound and the two days' exposure and
suffering that followed, imposed a great strain upon my system, and
reaction had now set in.
My wound had received no attention, and my right eye was hopelessly
mutilated. The optic nerve of my left eye was damaged beyond repair,
and the eye itself was obscured by an enormous swelling. My sense of
smell was gone, and my cheeks, nose, and mouth were swollen and numbed
to a painful degree.
I had lost power in my lower jaw, which would barely move. My nerves
were completely shattered, and the mere touch of a hand would make me
shrink with fright.
I had lost my voice, and during the occasional periods of sensibility,
I could only speak in a startled whisper, while my brain in hideous
delirium would constantly take me back to the scenes through which I
had just passed.
I remember my stretcher being lifted and being placed in a horse-drawn
ambulance with several others. Before leaving, the M.O. gave me a
bottle of water, and so great was my thirst that for several days I
kept this tightly gripped in my hand, and would not part with it
except to get it refilled.
I have a hazy idea of being transferred from one ambulance to another,
and several journeys. The ground was very rough, and the shaking of
the wagon seemed to cause great pain to other occupants. The bumping
to my own head compelled me to raise it from the pillow and resist the
jolts by resting it on my hand.
Where I spent Monday night I do not know, but on Tuesday night I found
myself in what must have been a small hospital in a town I do not
remember.
It seemed to me that I was in a sort of basement of a private house,
and that a man and woman were watching over me, exhibiting very great
kindness and compassion.
I seemed to awaken from my stupor, and remember some snatches of
conversation, as they bent over me, for they could both speak a little
English.
Blood and clay were still caked on my face and hair; and my uniform
was sticky with blood and grime. Oh, how I wished I could take it off
and be put into clean clothes and a bed!
The man was taking off my boots:
"Dese very goot boots, yah?"
I assented in a whisper.
"You have dem give you, yah?"
"No," I whispered, "bought them myself."
"Where do you buy such goot boots?"
"London."
"Ah, yah. I thought you would not get such goot boots for nothings.
Look after dem well; we don't get goot boots like dat here."
I whispered to him:
"What is that noise?"
"Ah, it is a pity. Ze English zey have been firing ze long-range guns
here, big guns. Zay carry twenty-seven miles. Ve moved dis hospital
two times, yah."
The woman came up to my stretcher with a basin of soup. I shall never
forget that basin of soup. It was probably very ordinary soup, but
when I tasted the first spoonful I devoured it ravenously, for all
this time I had not realised that I was suffering from starvation. For
the past three days not an atom of food had passed my lips, and for
two days previous to that an occasional bite of bread and cheese was
my only ration. Even now I was not destined to receive the nourishment
my body craved for; for one basin of soup per day was all I received
during the remainder of that week.
Still grasping my bottle of water under my blanket, I was removed next
morning and placed in a freight truck with two others, one a sergeant
in the Guards, and the other a private in the ----, London Regiment.
We were locked in the truck, and kept there for many hours without
food or conveniences of any kind, and finally arrived at St. Quentin.
Some one removed the blanket from my face and examined my
shoulder-straps. I heard him say "Hauptmann," and after that I seemed
to be treated with some consideration.
I did not understand a single word of German, and the repetition of
this word puzzled me. It must have been some connection with my rank.
I would try it on the next person who came near me and see what
happened.
I had not long to wait, for by and by the stretchers were lifted and
we were carried into the hospital at St. Quentin. I was placed
alongside a large number of others, and the place created a very
unpleasant impression of the attention I was likely to receive.
The place seemed like Bedlam. All round me I heard the groans and
cries of the wounded. How long would I be left here unattended? How I
longed to have my clothes removed! And what of my wound--how much
longer must I go before it was attended to? And what was happening to
it all this time?
I heard some voices near me speaking in German. Now was the time I
would test that magic word, and see what would happen. Removing the
blankets from my face, and lifting my arm to attract attention, I
whispered hoarsely:
"Hauptmann!"
Some one stooped down over me, examined my shoulder-strap, and said,
"Huhzo!" He then gave an order, and my stretcher was again picked up,
and I was carried up-stairs to a room reserved for officers.
That "Open Sesame" served me in good stead on several occasions.
But the hospital at St. Quentin was a horrible place. There was a
Frenchman in the ward who was raving mad, and between his yells and
shrieks of laughter, the moaning of the wounded, and the fitful
awakenings from my own delirium I spent a most unhappy time. I think I
must have been there about two days, and on the morning after my
arrival I was sensible for a while.
Adjoining the ward and only separated by an open doorway was the
operating-room, where first operations were taking place hurriedly.
The scene was something I can never forget. One by one we were being
taken in, and the shrieks of pain which followed were too shocking for
description. To hear strong men howl with pain is agonising enough;
but to hear them shriek, and for those shrieks to fall upon the ears
of nerve-broken men awaiting their turn just outside the open door was
terrifying, appalling.
As the shrieks subsided into weakened groans the stretcher would come
back into the ward, and the next man be moved in; and so we waited in
an agony of suspense, horror, and dread as nearer and nearer we came
to our turn.
I do not wish to harrow my readers' feelings any more by describing
how I felt when my stretcher was at last lifted and I was laid on the
operating-table. I could not see the bloodiness of my surroundings,
but I murmured to myself, as I had occasion to do on subsequent and
similar occasions:
"Thank God I'm blind."
There was a nurse at St. Quentin whose devotion and humanity will be
long remembered by the many British and French wounded officers who
have passed through that ward. In my half-dazed condition I seemed to
have an idea that she was some sort of angel, whose gentle voice and
comforting words were so soothing to the wounded, and inspired us with
confidence in our painful conditions and surroundings.
On Friday, still greedily hugging my bottle of water, I was removed
from St. Quentin and placed in a hospital-train bound for Hanover. I
was told it was a splendidly appointed train, with every modern
appliance.
The journey to Hanover occupied two days and two nights, but I
remember nothing of it, as I believe I was unconscious the whole time.
I do remember just before leaving being presented with a haversack
from the French Red Cross Society, and it was full of things which
were extremely useful: a sleeping-shirt, handkerchiefs, biscuits, and
similar articles. I have the haversack still. I carried it wherever I
went in Germany, and never allowed it to leave my possession.
On Sunday morning, September 17, the train pulled into Hanover, and
the wounded were carried out and left for a time on the platform.
Some girls seemed to be busy giving refreshment to the wounded. A girl
came to my stretcher, pulled down the blanket which covered my face,
and clumsily pushed the spout of a drinking-cup, containing coffee,
into my mouth. I thought she was trying to feed me from some kind of
teapot. The pot fell out of my mouth, and the coffee ran down my neck.
A man picked it up, and holding it to my lips, enabled me to sip it. I
felt very grateful to him, for I was badly in need of sustenance. He
spoke to me very kindly.
I thanked him in a whisper, and asked him if he was an officer.
He replied in English: "No, I am a waiter."
I think I became unconscious again. Rather unfortunate, for had I been
stronger the humour of the remark would have amused me.