"More than 3000 francs booty for the battalion."
Another diary, after the sacking of a place, gives a detailed account
of the distribution thus:--
"460 francs for the first lieutenant, 390 francs for the
second lieutenant, etc...."
(3) _Doctor thieves:_ At Choisy-au-Bac, two army doctors, wearing their
brassards, personally sacked the house of a family named Binder. At
Château-Thierry some doctors were made prisoners: their mess-tins were
opened and found to be full of stolen articles. After Morhange, a French
doctor of the 20th Corps remained in the German lines to be near his
wounded. He was accosted by one of his German 'confrères.'[3] who with
his own hands stole his watch and pocket-book.
At Raon-sur-Plaine, after the retreat of our troops, Dr. Schneider
remained behind with thirty wounded. Next day up came a German ambulance
with Professor Vulpius, a well-known German scientist of Heidelberg
University, who must have presided over many international medical
congresses. As soon as he was installed, "Herr Professor" intimated to
his French fellow-doctors that he was "going to begin with a small
customary formality." The formality was a simple one: his colleagues
were to hand over to him "all the money they had on them." "I strongly
protested" (declared the French doctor, on oath), "but we were compelled
to hand over our purses and all their contents. Having relieved us in
this way, he turned to our poor wounded, who were all searched and
stripped of their money. There was nothing to be done: we were in the
hands, not of a doctor, but of a regular brute...."
(4) _Royal thieves_: After living about a week in a château near Liége,
H.R.H. Prince Eitel Fritz, the Duke of Brunswick, and another nobleman
of less importance, had all the dresses that could be found in the
wardrobes belonging to the lady of the house and her daughters packed up
before their own eyes, and sent to Germany.
* * * * *
These thieves are often _facetious_: they give as compensation a
so-called receipt or bond (in German, of course), which in French means,
"Good for a hundred lashes," or "Good for two rabbits," or "To be shot,"
or "Payable in Paris".... They are also _disgusting_. In houses robbed
by them they leave, by way of visiting cards, excrement in beds, on
tables, and in cupboards. They are sometimes _unnaturally vicious_. In a
village of Limbourg they burnt in a stable a stallion valued at 50,000
francs, and "forced the farmer, his wife and children to witness the
crime on their knees with their arms raised." Amongst the crowd of
unfortunate people brought from Louvain to Brussels were thirteen
priests. The soldiers at a German guard-house stopped the column, and
ordered the priests to come out. To shoot them? No. They forced them
into a pigsty, from which they had driven out the only pig. Forthwith
they compelled most of them to strip off all their clothes, and robbed
them of everything of value they possessed.
These thieves are _practical_ too. At Dinant, safes were opened with
oxy-hydrogen blow-pipes, brought expressly for that purpose. They have a
partiality for safes, and in this connection the story of Lunéville
deserves recording. A house near the station, belonging to M. Leclerc,
was set on fire; the walls alone remained standing, and in one of them
(on the second floor) a safe was left intact. A non-commissioned
officer, named Weill, with a party blew up the wall with dynamite, and
the safe was extricated from the rubbish, carried to the station, put on
a truck, and sent to Boche-land. This man Weill, before the war, often
came to Luneville on business with hops, was always well received there,
made himself agreeable and knew everybody. When the Germans settled in
the unfortunate town he played a very important part, in spite of his
low rank, in acting as agent, confidential clerk and guide to the
Commanding Officer.
The robbers are also business-like in their transport arrangements as to
carriages, military waggons, lorries, and motor cars. At Compiègne,
where the home of the Orsetti family was sacked, silver plate, jewellery
and articles of value were collected in the courtyard of the château,
then classified, registered, packed and "put into two carts, upon which
they took care to place the Red Cross flag." We read in the note-book of
a wounded German soldier, under medical treatment at Brussels, "A car
has arrived at the hospital, bringing war booty, a piano, two sewing
machines and all sorts of other things."
In 1870, our clocks were in most demand; now, pianos form the
attraction, and an immense number have been sent to Germany. They are
the article particularly favoured by the Boche ladies. In a château
retaken by our troops, an officer left behind a letter from his wife, in
which is written, "A thousand thanks for the beautiful things you sent
me. The furs are magnificent, the rosewood furniture is exquisite; but
don't forget that Elsa is always waiting for her piano."
These women, however, are not all as patient in waiting as Elsa. They
frequently come and choose for themselves, and preside over the packing.
They have been seen arriving in motor cars from Strasbourg or Metz, at
many towns in Lorraine, at Lunéville, Baccarat, and elsewhere.
All note-books, more or less, contain such items as these: "Wholesale
pillage and abundant loot," "Everything destroyed or sacked," "Looting
going strong," "Played the piano; looting going strong." This very
German formula frequently occurs, "_Methodically_ plundered." And again,
"We have been allowed to plunder; we didn't require to be told twice:
whole bales of loot."
"_Rethel._ The Vandals could not have done better." (The officer who
makes this indiscreet admission and seems to protest against the thefts
committed, writes on the following page: "I have found a silk rainproof
coat and a camera for Felix.")
"_Courcy._ The village, and the workmen's cottages looted and sacked.
Atrocious. There is something, after all, in what they say of German
barbarians."
"_Ottignies._ The village was pillaged. The blond beast has made plain
what he is. The Huns and the free-lances of the Middle Ages could not
have done better."
"_Cirey._ During the night incredible things were done: shops sacked,
money stolen, rapes: enough to make one's hair stand on end."