Passing over the moat through two iron doors, we enter a courtyard,
about 100 yards long by 40 broad. Facing the gateway is a semi-circular
building two stories high, with an entrance at either end and one in
the centre. A turret with windows and battlements surmounts each
entrance; and from the central turret rises a flag-pole....
The commandant was a Prussian reservist officer with a long heavy
moustache. We were told that he was courteous and considerate in every
respect, and that, provided we took care to salute him whenever we
passed him, we should find him everything we could reasonably wish.
Supper was at 6 P.M. The same plate did duty for both courses, soup and
meat, the more fastidious taking it under the pump in the interval.
When the meal was over the junior members of the messes did the washing
up. After supper we walked a mile, as the old adage recommends. We soon
knew to a nicety how many turns round the court made up this distance,
and some active spirits improved on the advice by walking several
miles. At 8.30 a bugle sounded, and everyone had to retire to his room;
at 9 sounded "lights out."
That first night was memorable for the little occupants which we found
already in possession of our beds. Just when we hoped we had finished
our labours for the day these little bedfellows began theirs. The more
we wanted to sleep, the more wakeful they became. Scratching, tossing,
and--it must be owned--a little mild swearing could be heard, where
snoring would have been much more tolerable....
At 6 A.M. reveillé sounded, and before it was finished Major Yate was
up and out of bed. I followed his example, and then the two of us began
a practice which we kept up while the warm weather lasted, namely, a
cold bath under the pump in the solitude of the courtyard.
Poor Major Yate! He attempted to escape ten days later, and lost his
life in so doing. One of the sentries affirmed that he shot him as he
made his way through the barbed wire, and that the Major fled wounded
into the river, from which he never came forth alive.... He has since
been awarded posthumously the Victoria Cross for his gallantry in the
campaign.
* * * * *
We selected as our chapel the passage over the entrance at one end
of the building. There was an inspiring atmosphere about that first
service. Our altar was a dormitory table, our altar linen a couple of
white handkerchiefs, our chalice a twopenny wine-glass (the best we
could procure), our paten an ordinary dinner-plate. Pews, of course,
there were none, and as for books, we were fortunate enough to have
one, a hymn-book, prayer-book, and Bible bound together in a single
volume, which I was carrying in my haversack at the time we were
captured. The pew difficulty was overcome by each officer bringing his
stool. The lack of books made no difference to the heartiness of the
service, for the hymns and chants were familiar to most of us from
childhood. The mighty volume of sound that went up that morning in
hymns of thankfulness and praise was a never-to-be-forgotten sensation
to those who heard it or joined in it. The place whereon we stood was
holy ground, and it was good for us to be there....
As time went on, our numbers increased to about 230 British officers,
and 800 French officers joined us from Maubeuge, including four
generals. One of the latter had been interned in Torgau before, in the
1870 war, and had made good his escape. The authorities guarded against
the recurrence of such an eventuality on the present occasion, their
most elaborate precaution being the enlistment of dogs to reinforce
the sentries. Their barkings could be heard occasionally by night, but
their presence disturbed neither our repose nor our equanimity....
During the last two months of our stay at Torgau I occupied a small
room in the centre of the building with Major (now Lieut.-Col.) A. G.
Thompson, Major W. H. Long, and Captain P. C. T. Davy, of the R.A.M.C.,
as companions. Like the Hindus, we divided ourselves into exclusive
castes, as far as the necessary duties in connection with the room were
concerned. The Colonel (as we may call him by anticipation) lit the
stove, the Major washed the cups and saucers, the Captain swept the
floor, and I, with the assistance of a member of our mess, brought in
the coal.
We often dreamt and spoke of the day when we should march out of
Torgau. There were two destinations only which came within the range
of our contemplation--one was Berlin, and the other was England.
Meanwhile, however, there was a place of four short letters which was
to be our home for six long months.
(The chaplain continues to relate his experiences in this German prison
with many interesting anecdotes. He tells about the prison occupations,
how they spent their time in work and recreation, and describes his
parole and visits to several internment camps.)