CAMBRAI
The immediate treatment I received was rather better than I had
expected. Several officers came forward, and one, who held a revolver,
told me in broken English to get out. So leaving my poor old machine,
we proceeded to the village headquarters.
Photographers appeared from nowhere and I was twice "snapped" on the
way, though I'm afraid I did not act up to the usual request, "look
pleasant." On arriving at a small house I was received by a German
general, who looked rather like an Xmas tree, the Iron Crosses were so
numerous. As I stood to attention he politely inquired if I spoke
German, even condescending to smile faintly when I replied, "Ja, un
peu!" At first when I answered a few preliminary questions he was
politeness itself. He then asked for my squadron number, to which I
could only reply that I was sorry but could not answer him, whereupon
he pointed out that it was of no military value whatever, and that it
was only to assist in my identification in the report of my capture
which would go to England. So thoughtful of him; such a plausible
excuse! Of course I remained silent, whereupon "_la politesse_"
vanished and an angry Hun took its place. He screamed, threatened, and
waved his arms about, but as I did not seem very impressed at the
display, he rushed out of the room, slamming the door and not
returning. Oh, for a "movie" camera! A Flying Corps officer then took
me in a car to an aerodrome, and told me I should have lunch with the
officers at the chateau, where they were quartered. Here I met about
nine German airmen, who greeted me in a typically foreign manner. They
seemed quite a nice lot on the whole, though I did not know them long
enough to really form an opinion. Soon a good German gramophone was
playing and lunch began. The food was rather poor, but champagne
plentiful. During the meal the gramophone, which was nearest to me,
finished a record, so getting up I changed the needle and started the
other side. But it wasn't the "Bing Boys" this time! Strange to say,
they were quite astonished at this performance, thinking, perhaps,
that I could not change the needle. Afterwards, at coffee, a
lieutenant asked me what we thought of their flying corps, to which I
replied that I thought it was all right. He seemed quite prepared for
this, and hastily said that I must remember that they had fewer
machines. I think it must have occurred to every captured airman how
splendid it would be to steal an enemy aeroplane and fly back, then
after a graceful landing report to the C.O. that you had returned.
These flights are not infrequently pleasurably accomplished in
imagination, but such opportunities do not often, if ever, present
themselves.
Just before leaving the chateau, I excused myself and got as far as
the back door, where I had to explain to some German orderlies that I
was only trying to find my coat. I was taken by car to corps
headquarters at another chateau, where I saw some young officers,
elegantly dressed, lounging about. After much useless bowing and
scraping I was again interrogated by an objectionable colonel, but
they seemed used to failure, and soon ceased their efforts. A major
who assisted spoke English well, and made himself quite pleasant till
I left. On hearing that I was in the Devons he told me that on leaving
the university his father had sent him to live at a small village near
Barnstaple, where he had remained for several years. Doubtless, a
hard-working man of leisure! He seemed a very able officer, but
decidedly young for a German major. On being told that all leather
goods were confiscated, I was forced to give up my Sam Brown belt much
against my will. They seemed very familiar with the movements of our
troops, and I noticed that though their telephones were rather large
and clumsy they carried slight sounds very distinctly, so much so,
that when at the other end of the room I could hear practically the
whole conversation.
Towards evening the major told me to get ready to go to Cambrai, and
at the same time said, that as my leather flying coat was also
confiscated they had cut off the fur collar, which he then handed
back. This rather annoyed me, so I told him to keep it, which incident
I regretted afterwards. However, he lent me a German coat, which was
some comfort. On the way to Cambrai we again passed near the lines,
some British star shells being plainly visible. What a difference a
few kilometres make! The Germans depend on their railway transport
more than we do. Certainly their road transport cannot be compared
with ours. We passed a few cars and motor lorries, the majority giving
one the impression that they were falling to bits, so noisy and shabby
were they. I only saw two or three motor cyclists the whole time, and
those I did see rode machines of an antiquated pattern. We passed a
lot of horse transport, nearly all the ambulances in the district
being horse drawn. Most cars, including our own, were only capable of
emitting useless squeaks on emergencies.
Soon we entered Cambrai, an old, picturesque French town, and drew up
at the entrance to the citadel, where a guard allowed us to enter. I
was then left with a Lieutenant Schram, the intelligence officer, who
gave me coffee and cigars and plied me with questions. He was very
anxious to discover all he could about our tanks, and possessed many
supposed models, mostly not in the least like them. He emphasised the
opinion that, of course we should not get Bapaume, at the same time
allowing he thought there might be a moving battle in the spring. From
his conversation I gathered that they were very familiar with
formation and movements of most of our Colonial units. The
_tête-à-tête_ at an end, I was taken to my quarters, a bare
whitewashed room, containing one French flying officer, two British
lieutenants, if I remember rightly, both in the D.L.I., having been
taken near Bapaume, and also a Canadian sergeant-major. It is
unnecessary to say how pleased I was to see them. Some one had
acquired a portion of an old magazine, which was much sought after, it
being the only means of passing the time. Our sleeping accommodation
consisted of two old straw mattresses, one on the floor and the other
on a shelf above.
Being tired we slept soundly, but in the morning we were horrified to
find we had not been alone, but that quite a varied menagerie had
shared our couches with us. Why the blankets did not run away in the
night I cannot think. The Huns promised to have lots of things done
but never did anything, in fact, they lie as easily as they breathe,
even when there is nothing to be gained by it.
A comparatively nice N.C.O. was in charge of us, called Nelson! We
afterwards learnt that his father had been English, and that his own
knowledge of England appeared to be confined to an Oxford restaurant.
One day when our lunch, consisting of black and watery soup, was
brought up he sympathetically remarked that it was a pity we could not
have chicken and ham. I wonder what he would have done had some one
enticingly rattled a shilling on a plate?
During the day we were allowed to walk round the barrack square for
about three hours with eighty British and a hundred and fifty French
soldiers, some of whom were daily detailed to work in the town. I
noticed that the Germans were inclined to treat our soldiers the
worst, frequently shouting threats at them in their guttural
language. In the evenings I sometimes managed to get downstairs with
the men, and in this way was able to join in some impromptu
sing-songs. Sanitary arrangements were very bad and disinfectants
unknown. We were allowed to buy a little extra bread and some turnip
jam at exorbitant prices, which helped us considerably, as breakfast
consisted only of luke-warm acorn coffee, lunch of a weird soup
containing sauerkraut or barley, supper of soup or tea alternate days.
We amused ourselves by carving our names on the table, or by drawing
regimental crests or pictures of Hun aeroplanes descending in flames,
in out of the way corners. On being told that toothbrushes were out of
stock (I do not think they ever were in), I manufactured a home-made
one on boy scout lines. It consisted of a small bundle of twigs and
splinters tied together (like a young besom), and though it did its
work well, the morning sweep was decidedly painful.