Part 7

A PRISONER'S REPORT.

A serious and responsible statement of experiences has been made by Chaplain Benjamin O'Rorke, M.A., in his little book, "In the Hands of the Enemy." I commend the book to the notice of those who wish for a fair statement by a patriot who has actual experience of a good many German camps in the early days of the war. As he was taken prisoner in August, 1914, his experiences belong to the time before the improvements introduced in all countries had been begun. There are callous episodes, for instance, one of revolting caddishness of an orderly standing by without offering help when an invalid officer is struggling to tie up his bootlace. Military bounce, popular vulgarity, hardships, homesickness, courage--all these things one may read of, but the incidents which some journalists revel in are to seek. It was a neutral journalist, we should remember, who sent to a German paper a wonderful account of the panic fears and regulations of London under the Zeppelin menace.

Chaplain O'Rorke's reminiscences give us a good many "facts towards fellowship." Let us select a few. Even the unpleasant ones may help us, where they show that the failings of the others are the same as our own. The prisoners were taken to Germany from Landrecies.

THE CREDULITY OF HATE.

At Aachen a hostile demonstration took place at our expense. There happened to be a German troop train in the station at the time. A soldier of our escort displayed a specimen of the British soldier's knife, holding it up with the marline-spike open, and declared that this was the deadly instrument which British medical officers had been using to gouge out the eyes of the wounded Germans who had fallen into their vindictive hands! From the knife he pointed to the medical officers sitting placidly in the train, as much as to say. "And these are some of the culprits." [It is not surprising that thus monstrously misinformed, and ready to believe all evil against the hated English, the soldiers] strained like bloodhounds on the leash. "Out with them!" said their irate colonel, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder to the carriages in which these blood-thirsty British officers sat. The colonel, however, did not wait to see his behest carried out, and a very gentlemanly German subaltern quietly urged his men to get back to their train and leave us alone. The only daggers that pierced us were the eyes of a couple of priests, a few women and boys, who appeared to be shocked beyond words that even a clergyman was amongst such wicked men.

I have quoted this passage as I have not the least wish to give a merely couleur de rose picture of the situation. Human nature is, I fear, everywhere very much the same, and, once its passions are aroused, extremely credulous of evil against its opponents. Only one thing in the account a little surprises me, and that is the colonel's order. If the officer was a colonel, would a subaltern be able quietly to countermand his orders? Is there not some mistake of rank here, or perhaps a misunderstanding of an angry exclamation?

TORGAU.

The populace at Torgau called them swine with variations--all of which, alas, is exactly what has been done, in some cases, by the populace on our side too. At Torgau "the Commandant was a Prussian reservist officer with a long heavy moustache. We were told [by the other prisoners] 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." And later, "It was a subject of universal regret when the first Commandant resigned his position."

DOGS.

A great deal has been made of the use of dogs in some prison camps. The following is the account given in Mr. O'Rorke's book (page 41):

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 their sentries. Their barkings could be heard occasionally by night, but their presence disturbed neither our repose nor our equanimity.

It is worth while to quote from a report made by Dr. Ohnesorg and Mr. Dresel on Wittenberg in March, 1916:

The police dogs are not now a cause of complaint on the part of the prisoners.--(Miscel. 16 p. 85).

Dr. Austin in "My Experiences as a German Prisoner" writes:

For a long time previous to our arrival at Magdeburg we had been informed that large and savage dogs were to be provided to aid the sentries.... They were certainly savage enough, but were always led by a sentry, or chained in their den, and were never let loose on us. (p. 141).

To return to Chaplain O'Rorke's narrative: "When we first arrived [the barrack warder] had adopted the role of gaoler in his demeanour towards us, but after a while he became civil and deferential, and--when his son was captured in the war--actually sympathetic." (p. 45.) At Torgau "the meals, though far from sumptuous and not always palatable, were sufficient for our needs." (p. 43.)

BURG.

At Burg, at the canteen, "we used to treat one another to a whole roll or a cake and a cup of excellent coffee; and, until they were put on the verboten list, to a chop or steak. The serving was done under the direction of a kind, motherly Frau at the one canteen, and by a polite German boy-waiter at the other.... The regular meals seemed to be provided by the proprietor of the larger canteen under contract with the German Government. They were served at 8 a.m., 12 noon and 6-30 p.m. In quality they were superior to the Torgau fare, but in quantity scarcely sufficient in the depth of winter for hungry young men. Still it must be remembered that they cost only 1s. 6d. a day" [out of the daily pay allowed]. Weekly baths were the regulation, but "it was often possible for pushing natures to get an extra bath on other days," by a method which works all the world over. At Burg "the new Commandant was a tall, well-made, soldierly figure. He had a strong face, curiously resembling an owl." An amusing little story follows as to the preciseness of the Commandant and Mr. O'Rorke continues: "It is pleasant to add that this new Commandant was in one respect just the man that was needed. From the first day he began to make the place hum, the foul clean, and in time rendered it habitable. Had there been any, he would have made the dust fly, but there was not. Indeed the court was at first almost a bog through which we threaded our way inch deep in mud, and hopped over the pools. All this disappeared in a few weeks under the Commandant's direction; the swamp was drained and the path widened." British officials, too, know that the problem of mud in a confined space trodden by thousands of feet is one needing energy for its solution.

The Commandant seems to have had a quality more valuable even than energy--a capacity for learning from those under him. He was a judge by profession, and was at first stern and terrible, as well as thorough. To him the prisoners were as ordinary prisoners, "but in time he learnt to place us in a different category. As for myself, eventually he granted me facilities for carrying on my work outside the Lager, which he might easily have refused, and when, five months later, we parted, it was with a certain measure of mutual cordiality" (p. 74). The Adjutant also learned more cordiality, and adjutants are sometimes prouder of making others feel their authority than commandants are.

CENSOR FINED BY PRISONER.

The Chaplain instituted a system of fines for "unparliamentary expressions." "Once I had to fine the German censor. He was engaged on a hot day in examining a very large number of packages before distributing them to their owners. He let fall in an unguarded moment the remark that it was a nuisance to have to open so many parcels--specifying the particular kind of nuisance he felt it to be ... but unfortunately I overheard it and he had to pay the penalty. He did so with a good grace." A touch like this seems to me, personally, to tell more eloquently than many orations how absurd it is to be regarding one another as all monsters who ought to be put out of the world.

VISITS OUTSIDE CAMP.

The hospital accommodation at the camp was very poor, and a lieutenant was sent out to a hospital in the town to have his little finger amputated. Mr. O'Rorke asked for permission to visit him. The Adjutant at once agreed. "It was not long before I presented myself at the office for my escort. I expected a couple of armed soldiers at the least, remembering our reception at the hands of the populace. Instead, my escort consisted of Herr Kost--the friendly censor and interpreter--and a soldier. 'Are you going to run away?' asked Herr Kost. I smiled at the futility of such an idea. 'Then we won't take a soldier.' My journey of half an hour to the hospital, my reception there, and my return to the prison were unmarred by any unpleasant incident whatever. The hospital was of the latest and best. Lieut. George had nothing but words of gratitude about the doctors and nurses."

The Chaplain was allowed to visit the "reprisal prisoners," those put in solitary confinement owing to the infliction of this penalty on the officers and men of two German submarines. He found them well treated. "The privacy of this little room," said the Hon. Ivan Hay "is preferable to the liberty and Babel of the Burg dormitories." The prisoners were specially selected from families of distinction.

PRISONERS AND POPULACE.

The other Burg prisoners were afterwards removed to Mainz. "The German Commandant took pity on my loneliness and offered me the privilege of going into the town where and when I liked if I would give my word of honour that I would make no attempt to escape. I agreed to the proposal. We shook hands over it, put it down in writing, and he presented me with a passport for the period of a week." Mr. O'Rorke, dressed in khaki, was soon the centre of a crowd of about twenty-five boys and girls. But, and this is really worth our noting, "they behaved extraordinarily well, and made no offensive remark." His followers increased, and he made things worse by giving them sweets! He called upon the German Pastor in order to get rid of them, but even this failed. A long stop at a cafe did not tire the vigilance of his escort. When he again came out, there they were. "We exchanged smiles and off we started." A bookseller, whose shop Mr. O'Rorke visited, came to his rescue and dispersed most of the little crowd, but another one gathered later, though again it showed no impoliteness or unfriendliness.

MS. RETURNED.

It remains to be said that Mr. O'Rorke's diary was confiscated on his release, but was restored to him by post a few weeks later, marked as having passed the German Censor!