CAUGHT BY THE HUNS AND TRIED AS A SPY
When I returned to Brussels I applied at the German office for a pass to
Holland. I was told to come back "Next Tuesday," which was five days
hence! Meanwhile the Germans kept my American passport. I was angry
again. But I decided it was no use to worry Mr. Whitlock, as he could
have no influence with these German officials anyway. His heart was
willing but his power was weak with them. He had frankly said so. But I
was not going to lose those intervening days, so I went without my
passport to Mons again and also to Waterloo. At the latter place I
climbed that immense artificial mountain two hundred and twenty-six
steps up the side of it, cone-shaped as it is, and stood beneath that
great British lion of bronze, a monument against the mania for world
empire which Napoleon had a hundred years ago. There were three German
soldiers up there so I did not tarry long. I was afraid they would ask
me to show my papers. I was not supposed to move without them and was
expected to stay in Brussels. However, I had not attempted to go on the
trains, as German officers guard every depot and make anyone approaching
the station show their papers. Lacking mine I would have been thrown
into jail. So I had taken the tram, which is still run by the Belgian
people, and fortunately I was not challenged. Soon after I left Waterloo
I read that the Germans had torn down that great British lion, that
historic monument a century old, and made it into bullets to shoot back
at the British who put it there. It was a strange irony.
Back in Brussels I again applied for my passports at the end of the five
days. Instead of getting them I got arrested!
During the searching of my person which followed, and which was
conducted with characteristic German thoroughness by Viellaur and his
assistant, a bullet-headed fellow whose name I do not know, a peculiar
incident occurred. I had a certain amount of material such as personal
cards, souvenirs, etc., as any man is apt to have with him, although I
had determined not to have anything about me which might in any way
offend the Germans or give the slightest ground for suspicion that I
was collecting information, possibly for the enemy. I did unconsciously
accumulate a few innocent cards which people handed to me in this place
and in that. I do not care who he is, any man who will turn his pockets
inside out will find little things like that which perhaps he did not
know he had or had forgotten all about.
Also I had a book of cigarette papers which I had brought all the way
from France. Being a preacher, of course I had no use for them! But an
enthusiastic poilu had wanted me to have some souvenir to remember him
by and not having anything else had presented me with this. Now the
papers were not the kind which are stuck individually with mucilage by
one edge into the cover and which I believe are called Riz-la-Croix, but
the brand called Zig-Zag, which are creased in the middle and folded
into each other, so that when you pull out one, it pulls the edge of the
next one into view, and so on. Now, when it is open, if you press the
two ends of the cover of this little book together a small aperture is
disclosed in the back of the book, a kind of pocket, a thing which I
suppose not one man out of a thousand who uses them constantly ever
discovered. There is no reason why he should. But I had discovered this
aperture and I suppose for convenience sake and possibly also for
secrecy had stuck the check for my uniform in that aperture behind the
cigarette papers when I received it at the Great Northern Railway
station in London. The check was a good sized piece of paper on which
the parcel man had written a description of my package, "1 Khaki
Uniform," and which I had folded up and stuck in there and promptly
forgotten. When Viellaur, taking me by surprise, suddenly began
searching me, among other things he took this book of cigarette papers
out of my pocket. He also found that list of murdered men from Andenne.
From top to toe he had rifled me, and all my possessions were lying on
his desk. Then, for some reason, he went around to the other side of the
desk, and his assistant, with the bullet-head, began carefully examining
all the articles. Certain things were plainly innocent and
uninteresting. These he laid in one pile. For instance, there was a key,
a plain picture post card, a paper napkin from Liége, etc. Certain other
things looked interesting to him and he laid these on another pile. On
the interesting pile he laid all cards which besides bearing the printed
names of the original owners had other names and addresses written on
them in handwriting, in ink, or pencil. On the uninteresting pile he
put all the other things.
Imagine my astonishment when Mr. Bullet-head began pulling out one
cigarette paper after another from that book and finally squeezed the
covers and saw the paper check for my uniform back in the little
pocket-like aperture! He took it out deliberately, unfolded it and
looked it over, and evidently not being able to make any sense out of it
calmly laid it on the uninteresting pile! I heaved a sigh of relief for
my heart had been in my mouth. If he had been anything but a German he
would have immediately drawn the conclusion, fatal for me, that when I
had a check for my uniform and baggage in London, I must have used them
in the Allies' service, and I certainly intended to go back and get
them. But going back to the enemy was just what they did not want. It
was lucky that Viellaur, who knew English perfectly, did not see that
check. You may be sure that the first chance I got I put the
uninteresting pile back in my pocket so that he would not see it and it
would not damn me. But the thrilling part was to come. Not feeling
satisfied with the search, Mr. Bullet-head decided to go through me once
again and made no bones or hesitation about promptly putting his
decision into execution. Alas! He drew from the lining of my coat some
maps of Belgium, where it looked as though I had deliberately put them
in an attempt to hide them. "Cursed be the Fates anyway," I exclaimed to
myself. My coat lining was torn just at the top of my inside pocket and
when I had innocently put the maps in my pocket I had unwittingly put
them inside the lining instead. It was fearfully damaging evidence!
Though done unconsciously it did look mighty suspicious and when he
began examining the map and saw the towns which I had marked and
particularly the ones which I had considered important places, he
concluded I was a spy.
These towns, as a matter of fact, which had the circles of stars around
them had been so marked by the manufacturer to indicate that they were
fortified towns, but I did not know it. The evidence pointed to the
conclusion that I had planned my visits to the fortifications to gather
military information and with no good intent towards Germany. They were
now sure I was a spy and, by George! before they were through with me I
just about began to wonder if I wasn't one myself. I must confess at
this distance of security and of time it did look most mightily
suspicious. It certainly did, and I was in for the "third degree."
After the German officers had searched me, and examined the papers, they
threw me into a big gray military automobile, handcuffing me to the
machine, and hurried me down to my hotel. They searched my room and
grip, and then brought me back and threw me into a guard room. Five
soldiers with saw-edged bayonets were set to watch me. I did whatever
they told me without arguing. Upon being searched the several cards with
names and addresses which Belgians from here and there had given me in
the hope that I might find and cheer some dear one with news of their
safety, were found upon my person. I was, therefore, charged with being
a spy and with having gone to all these towns for the purpose of getting
military information for the enemy. The fact that they themselves had
given me the pass made no difference. Having so many spies in every
country themselves made the Germans suspicious of everyone else. I was
left in that guard room and told that I would have to stay until after
lunch. The man must have eaten a heavy meal instead of a lunch, for he
did not come back for me until five o'clock in the afternoon. I was
given no lunch. Then the officer came for me, and I was questioned
until way into the night.
Next day I was put through the "third degree." I will not attempt to
describe the grilling which I got, but take my word it was a fearful
ordeal.