PHILIP GIBBS
ON THE WAR IN FLANDERS
I. The Battles of the Somme
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II. From Bapaume to Passchendaele
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London : Wm. Heinemann, 21 Bedford St.
"BROTHER BOSCH
OTHER RECENT VOLUMES
THE SWORD OF DEBORAH.
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"BROTHER BOSCH
AN AIRMAN'S ESCAPE
FROM GERMANY
BY
CAPTAIN KNIGHT, R.A.F.
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
London: William Heinstnann, 1919
o
ZTo tbe /Ifoemorp of
CAPTAIN MORRITT,
LIEUT. MEDLICOTT,
LIEUT. WALTERS,
AND ALL OTHER OFFICERS, N.C.O/S AND MEN,
WHO, BEING LESS FORTUNATE,
GAVE THEIR LIVES IN THE ENDEAVOUR.
Beloved Country ! banished from thy shore,
A stranger in this prison house of clay,
The exiled spirit weeps and sighs for thee !
Heavenward th bright perfections I adore
Direct, and the sure promise cheers the way,
That, whither love aspires, there shall my dwelling be.
Longfellow.
NOTE
' E The spelling of the word 'Bosch' was the
customary one in the German prisoners' camps
from which the author made his escape, and is
retained for the sake of local colour."
ERRATA
P. 25, line 6 from bottom, for "weis" read "weiss."
P. 43, line 14, for " balolaika " read "balalaika."
P. 47, line 10 and p, 55, line 16, for " Weiswein " read
" Weisswein. "
P. 51, line 7, for "Hammelin *' read " Hameln."
P. 126, line 20, for " Pupchen " read " Puppchen."
P. 159, line 16, for " Brief easten " read " Brief-
kasten."
. >
%" :'-'
BROTHER BOSCH"
(An Airman's Capture and subsequent
Escape from Germany)
CHAPTER I
CAPTURED
IT was November gth, 1916. I lay in a
state of luxurious semi-consciousness ponder-
ing contentedly over things in general, trans-
forming utter impossibilities into plausible
possibilities, wondering lazily the while if I
were asleep. Presently, to my disgust an
indefinable, yet persistent ' something '
came into being, almost threatening to dispel
the drowsy mist then pervading my brain.
The slow thought waves gradually ceased
their surging, and after a slight pause began
to collect round the offending mystery, as if
seeking to unravel it in a half-hearted sort
of way. They gave me to understand that
the " something " recurred at intervals, and
even suggested that it might be a voice,
B.P. B T
'BROTHER BOSCH'
from which side of the elastic dividing
line it emanated they were quite unable to
say. With the consoling thought that voices
often come from dreamland I allowed the
whole subject to glide gently into the void
and the tide of thought to continue its
drugged revolutions. The next instant a
noisy whirlwind swept the cobwebs away.
I knew that the voice was indeed a reality,
for it delivered the following message : ' A
very fine morning, sir ! ' Obviously my
dutiful servant desired me to rise and enjoy
the full benefit of the beautiful day. Agree-
ing with Harry Lauder, that " It's nice
to get up in the morning, but it's nicer to
stay in bed ! ' I am sorry to say I cunningly
dismissed the orderly with a few false assur-
ances, turned over on my side and promptly
forgot all about such trivial matters. Con-
science was kicking very feebly, and just as
sleep was about to return, the air com-
menced to vibrate and something swept over-
head with a whirling roar an " early bird '
testing the air. Galvanised into action by
this knowledge, I sprang out of bed, and
seizing whatever garments happened to be the
nearest, was half dressed before I had even
time to yawn ! . Then snatching up my map,
coat, hat, and goggles, I burst from the hut
and began slithering along the duck-boards
towards the hangars, at the same time en-
CAPTURED
deavouring to fasten the unwilling hooks of
my Flying Corps tunic and devoutly hoping
that I should not be late for the bomb raid.
For weeks we had been standing by for this
raid in particular, the object of which was to
bomb Douai aerodrome. This was a par-
ticularly warm spot to fly over, for in these
days it was regarded as the home of
" Archies ' and the latest hostile aircraft.
It is, therefore, not surprising that the
general feeling of the squadron was that the
sooner it was over the better for all concerned.
Arrived at the sheds I was relieved to find
that I was in good time, at all events. The
machines (two-seater artillery machines, then
commonly known as " Quirks") were lined
up on the aerodrome with bomb racks loaded,
their noses to the wind, awaiting the signal
to ascend. I saluted the C.O., waved to a
friend or two and climbed into the pilot's
seat of my waiting machine. Then, adjusting
the levers, I signified to the waiting mecha-
nics that I was ready for them to " suck in '
(an operation necessary prior to the starting
of the engine). Having made sure that
everything was O.K. and waited for the
others to ascend, I took off and, after climbing
steadily for some time, took up my specified
position in the formation. For some time
we circled about over a pre-arranged rendez-
vous, until joined by an escort of fighting
B 2
'BROTHER BOSCH'
machines and another squadron of bombers,
and then settled down to business. Flying
straight into the sun we soon arrived at and
passed over the irregular spidery lines of
trenches (those on Vimy Ridge showing up
particularly clearly), and continued forging
ahead, past many familiar landmarks, always
in the direction of Douai. I for one never
dreamt of being taken prisoner and had
every intention of making a record breakfast
on my return. My engine was going rather
badly, but the odds were that it would see
me through. Only too soon the anti-aircraft
started their harassing fire, throwing up a
startling number of nerve-racking, high
explosive shells, each one a curling black
sausage of hate and steel splinters. When we
were some way over my machine lagged
behind the rest. The engine spluttered inter-
mittently and could not be induced to go at
all well. As my machine became more
isolated I cast anxious glances about and was
soon rewarded by seeing two wicked little
enemy scouts waiting for an easy prey (at
that time they did not usually attack a
formation, but waited behind for the likes
o' me). While one scout attracted my
attention on the left and I was engaged in
keeping him off by firing occasional bursts,
a machine gun opened fire with a deafening
clatter at point-blank range from behind.
CAPTURED
In an instant the surrounding air became full
of innumerable tiny, brilliant flames, passing
me at an incredible speed like minute streaks
of lightning, each one giving forth a curious
stacatto whistling crack as it plunged through
or beside the tormented machine, leaving in
its wake a thin curling line of blue smoke.
I was in the middle of a relentless storm of
burning tracer bullets, vying one with the
other for the honour of passing through the
petrol tank, thereby converting my machine
into a seething furnace. Having no observer
to defend my tail I turned steeply to meet my
new adversary. However, before completing
the manoeuvre I received another deadly burst
of fire, which, though it somehow missed
me, shot away several of my control wires.
What happened next I cannot be sure, but
the machine seemed to turn over, and my
machine gun fell off with a crash. This took
place at an altitude of six thousand feet.
My next impression was that I seemed to be
in the centre of a whirling vortex, around
which all creation revolved at an extra-
ordinary speed, and realised that my trusty
steed was indulging in a particularly violent
" spinning nose dive." A ' spin ' at the
best of times rather takes one's breath away,
so, shutting the throttle, I endeavoured to
come out of it in the usual way. To my
surprise, the engine refused to slow down,
'BROTHER BOSCH'
or any of the controls to respond, except one,
which only tended to make matters worse.
The one thing left to be done was to
" switch off " and trust to luck. This, how-
ever, was more easily decided on than accom-
plished, for by this time the machine was
plunging to earth so rapidly, with the engine
full on, that I felt as if I were tied to a peg-
top, which was being hurled downwards with
irresistible force. Fighting blindly against
the tremendous air-pressure, which rendered
me hardly able to move, I forced my left
arm, inch by inch, along the edge of the
" cockpit " until I succeeded in turning the
switch lever downwards. A glance at the
speedometer did not reassure me, the poor
thing seemed very much overworked.
Descending very rapidly I kept getting a
glimpse of a pretty red-roofed village, which
became ominously more distinct at every
plunging revolution.
I vaguely thought there would be rather
a splash when we arrived at our destination,
but at eight hundred feet Providence came
to the rescue. I heard the welcome cessation
of the wild screaming hum of the strained
wires. After switching on, the engine
informed me with much spluttering that it
was sorry that I should have to land on the
wrong side, but it really had done its best.
I had just managed to turn towards our
6
CAPTURED
trenches, when the scout pilot, seeing I did
not land, at once followed me down and with
its machine gun impressed on me that the
sooner I landed the better. As I was then a
long way over the lines, sinking fast towards
the tree-tops, I had no alternative, so en-
deavoured to reach the village green. By
this time the machine was literally riddled
with bullets, though, luckily, I had not been
touched. Before landing I overtook a
German horseman, so thinking to introduce
myself I dived on him from a low altitude,
just passing over his head. Well, scare him I
certainly did, poor man ; he was much too
frightened to get off, and seemed to be doing
his best to get inside his would-be Trojan
animal. The machine landed on a heap of
picks and shovels, ran among a number of
Huns who were having a morning wash at
some troughs (or rather I should say, a lick
and a promise !). They scattered and then
closed in on the machine. I ran one wing
into a post, and tried the lighter, which did
not work. I was a prisoner. Undoubtedly,
the next German communique announced
that the gallant Lieutenant X. had brought
down his thirtieth machine; it is probable
that this gallant officer had heard strange
rumours of what lay behind the British lines,
but preferred cruising on the safer side. I
could hardly believe that these grey-clad,
'BROTHER BOSCH'
rather unshaven men who jabbered excitedly
were genuine ' Huns." I was furious and
very ' fed-up," but that did not help, so
turning in my seat and raising my hand I
said, " Gutten Morgen." This surprised them
so much that they forgot to be rude and
mostly returned the compliment.
8
CHAPTER II
CAMERA I
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,
'BROTHER BOSCH 1
and that it was only to assist in my identifi-
cation in the report of my capture which
would go to England. So thoughtful of him ;
such a plausible excuse ! Of course I re-
mained 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 return-
ing. 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 typi-
cally 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
10
CAMERA!
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 head-
quarters at another chateau, where I saw
some young officers, elegantly dressed, loung-
ing 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
II
'BROTHER BOSCH'
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
12
CAMBRAI
antiquated pattern. We passed a lot of horse
transport, nearly all the ambulances in the
district being horse drawn. Most cars, in-
cluding our own, were only capable of emit-
ting useless squeaks on emergencies.
Soon we entered Cambrai, an old, pic-
turesque 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 move-
ments of most of our Colonial units. The
tete-a-tete at an end, I was taken to my
quarters, a bare whitewashed room, con-
taining 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.
13
i (
BROTHER BOSCH
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 sympatheti-
cally 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
14
CAMBRAI
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 con-
siderably, 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.
CHAPTER III
ADVENTURE NO. I
AFTER remaining there a week we were
told that we should leave the next morning
for Germany, which we should grow to like
very much ! During our stay, except for a
few exciting intervals when British machines
passed over the town, we had plenty of time
for meditation, and usually when darkness
fell could see by the gun flashes that the
evening strafe was in progress. This always
reminded me of an argument which had once
taken place in our squadron mess, late one
evening before turning in, during which I had
expressed the opinion that should any one
with infantry experience be forced to land
the wrong side just before dark, provided
he could avoid Huns, it might be just possible
for him to return the next night through the
trenches. Now I felt it was up to me to
prove it should such an opportunity present
itself.
Cambrai citadel is both solid and imposing,
and must have proved itself a formidable
16
ADVENTURE NO. i
fortress. Crowning a slight eminence, it
overlooks most of the town. On the three
sides are ramparts, varying from about
twenty to sixty feet in height, while on a
fourth it is now bounded by barbed wire and
high railings, with only a slight drop on the
other side. At the main entrance the road
crosses the old moat and passes under a
massive archway which adjoins the guard-
room. All the approaches to the outer walls
are guarded by quantities of barbed wire and
numerous sentries.
After a thorough search I at last discovered
a small round hole in the wall of an out-
building near the roof, through which I
decided it would be possible to squeeze, in
the dusk, unobserved by the sentry. The
new German coat I had received on the way
had been again in its turn exchanged for an
old French one. This I took to the men's
quarters and, finally, after hunting the whole
place, found an old German coat hanging up.
After bargaining for some time I made my
fourth exchange, and returned successful.
Later in the afternoon an English N.C.O.
told me that he had heard of my search and
presented me with an old German fatigue
cap which had been unearthed somewhere by
his pals.
Now having everything ready I deter-
mined to try my luck about six o'clock that
B.B. C
'BROTHER BOSCH'
evening before being shut up for the night.
After learning some new German words
likely to be of use, such as " wire entangle-
ments," ' dug-outs," etc., I returned to my
room and waited. My plan was to follow
the gun flashes, which in all probability would
lead me to the Bapaume area, where I
expected to find some wire or wooden posts,
which I should carry with me as I approached
the lines, and endeavour to avoid suspicion
by mingling with working parties as an
engineer. If thus far successful I hoped to
repair the German wire entanglements,
which in this district were much damaged by
our shell fire, and eventually slip away and
get into touch with our patrols.
At a quarter to six a German flying officer
entered our room and invited me to dinner
at their Cambrai headquarters, assuring me
that there would be plenty to eat and drink.
(I expect after skilfully mixed drinks they
hoped to loosen my tongue. When a Hun
lays himself out to be pleasant it is almost
certain that in some way he expects to benefit
by it.) If you wish to realise how tempting
this offer was, live on a watery starvation diet
for eight days and then be given the oppor-
tunity of a good meal. However, when I
excused myself on the plea of being a little
unwell, ' Mein freund ' was quite non-
plussed. While he was still trying to extract
iS
ADVENTURE NO. i
information, unsuccessfully, from the others,
I left the room after pocketing a slice of
bread.
Once in the outhouse I chose my time and,
climbing up to the hole in the wall, squeezed
myself through with difficulty, for it was
only just large enough. When the sentry's
back was turned I dropped to the ground on
the other side, about ten feet below, making
considerable noise. I was now past the line
of barbed wire, but there still remained the
ramparts to negotiate. Never having been
able to see over this point from our quarters
we had no means of ascertaining the drop to
the ground below. The corner of the ram-
parts I was making for was under forty yards
away, but it took me about three-quarters of
an hour to get there, crawling on crackling
dry leaves under the shadow of the wall.
The slightest noise would probably have
attracted the sentry's attention and caused
him to switch on the electric light, which
they all carry slung round their necks. Oh !
what a noise those leaves made ! Just before
I got to the wall I heard rather a commotion
outside the guardroom, and although ex-
pecting to get at least a night's start before
my absence was discovered, concluded that
I had already been missed. (Afterwards I
found that this was indeed the case, as the
German flying officer on leaving had told the
C 2
"BROTHER BOSCH'
commandant that I was unwell; a doctor
was then sent up, but I could not be found.)
Getting up, I ran to the wall and looked over.
In the dusk I faintly distinguished some
bushes below. The glance was not re-
assuring, but " the die was cast," and over I
went. I shall always remember that horrible
sensation of falling. It took longer than I
expected to reach the ground. Instan-
taneously there flashed through my brain a
formula I had learnt at school, i.e., that an
object falling increases its velocity thirty- two
feet per second. I now realised for the first
time how true it was. The drop was some-
where between twenty and thirty feet. Just
near the ground my fall was broken by my
being suspended for the fraction of a second
on some field telephone wires, which broke
and deposited me in the centre of a laurel
bush, which split in half with a crash. It is
not so much the fall but the sudden stop
which does the damage. My breath being
knocked out of me and seeing several
floating stars of great brilliance, I vaguely
wondered if I were dead, but I was consider-
ably relieved to find that this was not the
case. No bones broken, only some bruises.
As I was getting to my feet I heard some one
coming down a gravel path which passed
beside me. Crouching down, I saw it was a
civilian, who proceeded to light a cigar and
20
ADVENTURE NO. i
passed on. I followed suit by lighting my
one and only cigarette, and after cutting a
stick, entered a darkened street, externally a
perfectly good Hun.
But even German soldiers are subject to
restrictions and I might be asked questions.
Consequently, my one idea was to get out of
the town as quickly as possible. I met
two French women, to whom I explained my
position, and asked the nearest way into the
country. They were frightened and unwilling
to talk at first, but when I opened my coat
and showed them the British uniform under-
neath, they pointed to a road which I followed.
Soon the town was left behind and I was
making for the gun-flashes and crossing a
turnip field. Swinging along at a good pace
the turnip-tops whipped my boots and made
quite a noise. Suddenly a challenge rang
out from a small railway bridge. ' Halt!
Wer da ! ' (On these occasions it seems as
if one's heart has been put to the wrong use,
it being really fashioned to be a pendulum
for a grandfather clock.) The next second
an electric light was switched on, but I had
already fallen among the turnips, endeavour-
ing to make a noise like one (a turnip).
Then ensued an interesting silence fraught
with many possibilities. Did the turnip's
voice deceive the Hun ? At any rate the
light was soon turned off, much to my relief ;
21
'BROTHER BOSCH'
then quietly I slipped away. After about an
hour's walking across country I came to
what I supposed to be a stream, showing up
in the moonlight, with a few bushes growing
along the side. Walking parallel to it for a
few yards and not seeing a bridge, I thought
it might be quite shallow, so tested it with a
stick. Imagine my pleasant surprise when I
found that it was not water at all, but a
narrow white concrete path, evidently newly
made. I noticed that nearly all roads
running parallel to the front had a very deep
trench dug on the east (G erman) side. Presum-
ably, these were later used considerably when
we were engaged in shelling the roads. Soon
I came to the Cambrai Canal, which had to
be crossed, and as it was the middle of
November it gave me the shivers even to
look at the dark water. After walking some
distance down the tow-path, I encountered
a Hun. Though not feeling at all bold I
said, ' G'nacht," which I felt sounded
feeble, though I knew it to be the correct
thing in some parts of Germany. To this he
replied, "Abend' (evening). (Quite a valu-
able lesson in the usual custom among
soldiers.)
Skirting a few houses and a timber yard
1 approached a large well-built iron railway
bridge spanning the canal. Climbing over
some barbed wire I cautiously mounted the
22
ADVENTURE NO. i
embankment. Looking along the bridge I
saw there were two lines separated by some
arched iron girders. From recent experience
I knew that this must be strongly guarded,
but reasoned that if I closely followed a
train I should in all probability find the line
free for a few seconds. Presently a freight
train came rumbling along, and I rushed after
it in a whirl of air, in my haste almost being
knocked down by the end carriages. As the
bridge was rather long and the train going
fast, in a very short time I was being left
stranded. When I was nearing the other side
I stopped an instant to listen. It was just
as well I did. Not more than three yards
away, on the other side of the ironwork, a
man spoke in German and was immediately
answered by another, who turned on his
light and commenced walking towards the
end of the bridge I was making for, to return
to his old beat on my line. There was no
time to lose, so rushing back on tip-toe and
down the embankment I fell over the barbed
wire at the bottom, which painfully impressed
on me its disapproval of my conduct.
After following the canal for a few hundred
yards there seemed no alternative but to
swim across, so in I went, greatcoat and all.
It was awfully cold. At first my clothes and
fleeced-lined flying boots held the air and
supported me, so that I lay on the surface of
23
'BROTHER BOSCH'
the water as if bathing in the Dead Sea,
feeling very ridiculous. But only too soon
everything filled up and I felt like a stone.
Swimming as silently as possible, I had almost
reached the opposite bank, feeling very tired,
when I saw something glisten just in front
which looked very like a bayonet, and a
man's voice shouted ' Hier." Picture the
situation : a dark but starry November
night, Hun sentry guarding barges, and a
poor wretch floundering about in the water,
then you will not be surprised that my heart
after jumping into my mouth, worked over-
time again ! The Hun thought I was a dog ;
I must be one without delay if I wished to
preserve a whole skin, so after a spluttering
growl I turned back with new energy,
swimming like a dog and whining softly.
After again calling to me several times he
threw a few things in my direction, which
fortunately went wide. I then swam round
a barge and with a great effort pulled myself
out of the water, rewarding the Hun, who
was now calling a friend, with a final bark.
I ran across a field with the water pouring
from me. I did not think one could be so
cold, an icicle was warm in comparison !
With numb fingers I wrung some of the water
out of my clothes, and with chattering teeth
considered the situation. Here I was, still on
the wrong side the only thing left to try
24
ADVENTURE NO. i
was a village bridge. Again following the
tow-path I neared some lights, which proved
to be a hospital, and found myself in an
apparently unoccupied station-yard, among
a number of large heaps. On raising a
corner of a tarpaulin which covered the
nearest I recognised the familiar wicker
crates, which contained something heavy.
It was an ammunition dump ! I soon found
the name of the station on the deserted plat-
form Manniers.
As I was leaving the dump, thinking of a
possible future, and what a lovely explosion
one well-directed bomb would make, I heard
some one coming towards me. At once hopping
off the road I crouched against one of the
shell heaps where the darkness was more
dense, my weight causing the wicker to creak.
But the seemingly deaf individual passed by
and I breathed again. Entering the main
village street at a good pace, whistling a
German tune, I was accosted by two Huns
carrying a heavy basket on a stick. One
inquired of me the way to some headquarters.
I dared not stop, so turning my head,
growled out a sullen " Ich weis nicht ' (I
don't know). They seemed grieved at my
bad manners, but were soon left behind.
Although it was very late a number of troops
were still singing uproariously in the various
estaminets which I passed. On turning a
25
'BROTHER BOSCH 1
corner I saw the village bridge and on it a
sentry box. While I stood in the dark shadow
of a house a small party of Germans, carrying
saddlery, overtook me. Tacking myself on
casually behind some of them we all passed
over the bridge quite happily, and feeling in
a cheeky mood I wished the sentry ' good
evening."
Once more I was passing swiftly over the
country, devoutly hoping there would not
be any more canals. Several hours passed
uneventfully. Some of the concrete paths
leading in the right direction afforded
excellent walking. They were mostly new
and appeared to be only laid on the mud
without any foundation. On a small rise
I came upon a trench system under construc-
tion (probably the now famous Hindenburg
line), which I examined. The few dug-outs
I saw were incomplete, the trenches rather
wet and shallow and not yet sandbagged.
After crossing two lines of more or less con-
tinuous trenches I inspected the wire en-
tanglements, wooden posts (charred, so as
not to show up in aerial photographs) and
iron corkscrews which were already in posi-
tion, but only a little fine and barbed wire
as yet, which was quite easy to get through.
Although the firing had died down it con-
tinued sufficiently to enable me to keep
my direction. Just as I was leaving these
26
ADVENTURE NO. i
trenches behind my progress was arrested by
a sudden jerk, and I found myself lying face
downwards full length in the mud. A care-
fully laid wire had tripped its first ' Eng-
lander " ! I was now plastered with mud
from head to foot, and getting up in a very
bad temper determined that at least that
portion of wire should not interfere with
another Britisher. After a short struggle I
succeeded in tearing it up and went on my
way somewhat appeased.
The front was now quite quiet, and after
many falls, footsore and tired, I came to a
large wood (the Bois de Logeost) a little
before dawn. In this I hoped to find cover
for the day, but it was full of transport, and
many dim lights proclaimed the presence of
huts. I had been walking parallel to it for
some distance when a British aeroplane
dropped some bombs too close to be pleasant,
causing quite a stir in the wood, shortly
followed by an anti-aircraft gun opening fire
not far away. I have never felt so small in
my life, and while tramping on in a dejected
manner, in imagination I was flying once
again over the lines, the occupied territory
lying below me like a map : but in spite of the
tranquillity of the scene (for in this pleasant
dream not a gun was in action) I became
conscious of a disturbing element somewhere,
something was out of place. To what was it
27
'BROTHER BOSCH'
due ? Then all at once I realised that it was
all connected with an infinitesimal object
which wandered aimlessly about among the
German batteries, and yet attracted every
one's attention. Vaguely I wondered what it
could be ? Then the dream slowly faded, and
as reality took its place I knew that I was that
atom ! When things were quiet again I dis-
tinctly heard plonk, plonk, plonk, the sound
made by hand grenades, rising from the
lower ground in front, this was soon followed
by the fainter cracking of a machine gun
and a brilliant Verey light, which I con-
cluded was from three to four miles away.
All at once, just beside me, there was a
blinding flash, immediately followed by a
deafening roar and the screaming hiss of a
shell, the latter lasting several seconds, then
slowly dying away into the night with a sigh.
One of the German heavies had fired from a
neighbouring clump of trees. Had my skin
been any looser I should certainly have
jumped out of it. Very soon I heard the
distant explosion of the bursting shell
Cr ump, and then dashed off in the
opposite direction.
28
CHAPTER IV
RETAKEN
THE country was very bare and the lines
so close that there were no hay or straw stacks
about. The stars were beginning to fade
from the sky, so hastily retracing my steps
for about a mile, in search of cover, I almost
fell over a tiny straw heap in the middle of a
field. It was close to a village, but as no
tracks passed anywhere near it I decided that
this should be my hiding place for the day.
After eating the remains of the black bread,
now a sloppy mass in my pocket, I emptied
the water which still remained in my flying
boots and placed them in a side of the heap
to dry, just below the surface. Wrapping my
slightly drier overcoat round my feet for
warmth, I wormed my way into the centre,
and pulled the straw after me. The bottom of
the heap was wet and contained mice, which
squeaked when my teeth stopped chattering
for a few seconds. I tried meowing, but they
were not taken in for long ! Sleep was out of
the question, and there was nothing else to
29
" BROTHER BOSCH'
do but watch the cold grey fingers of light
creeping through the wet straw. From my
knowledge of the front, I gathered that I
had arrived north of my objective, where
the Huns were expecting our next attack, and
the trenches were strongly held. Had I a
sporting chance or were the odds against me
too great ? If the latter was the case and it
was impossible, I prayed that I might be
recaptured before making the attempt the
next night.
The minutes passed like hours, but at last
the sun rose, evidently very much against its
will. About ten o'clock next morning I
faintly heard the thud of horse's hoofs
approaching at a canter from the direction of
the village. At first I thought nothing of it,
but as these grew rapidly louder and louder,
my uneasiness increased and I lay perfectly
still under the straw. The horse came
straight to my heap, and stopped dead at the
German word of command, ' R-r-r-r-r '
(whoa!). Soon the rider uttered an exclama-
tion and, leaning over, drew out a flying boot,
to my dismay, but as this was wet, muddy and
old looking he soon threw it down again. I n the
meantime the horse kept sniffing and nibbling
at the straw which thinly covered my fae,
and I felt inclined to repeat to myself an old
nursery rhyme : ' Fe, fi, fo, fum, I smell
the blood of an Englishman ! ' As the brute
30
RETAKEN
continued blowing the straw from my face,
I tried to make him desist by returning the
compliment by blowing back at him. He
jumped and threw up his head, but now his
curiosity being thoroughly aroused returned
to his explorations with renewed vigour,
partly uncovering me. I did not move, but
knew that the game was up when the rider
drew his breath in sharply. Looking up I
saw surprise written on every feature of the
bearded Hun N.C.O. He was a thick-set man
with a revolver holster at his belt. I had no
chance of resistance, as the country was quite
open and my boots were off, so sitting up I
greeted him with a " Gutten M or gen." He
saw that I was an English " Flieger" (air-
man), but firmly refused to believe that I was
an officer. He told me I was near Achiet-le-
Petit, and then motioned me to go with him
to the village, which I did. (An account of
the foregoing episode appeared in the German
papers later.)
We went straight to the village headquarters,
where there were several officers spotlessly
dressed in blue or field-grey, against which
my tramp-like appearance formed a strange
contrast. They were quite decent, with one
exception, a sour-looking captain, and were
rather amused than otherwise, even allowing
a Frenchwoman to make me some coffee.
When I remarked on the wonderful way in
31
'BROTHER BOSCH'
which the Germans had traced me from
Cambrai, they laughed and said my discovery
was purely accidental, the N.C.O. having
been detailed to find some straw for the
transport. I was sent back to Cambrai in a
wagon with an armed guard of three, ex-
clusive of the driver and the mounted N.C.O.
I was very annoyed on being told that the
latter would receive the Iron Cross, and tried
to impress on them that my discovery was
entirely due to the horse, who deserved a
bran mash. It was bitterly cold and, on
passing through every village, I was made to
remove my coat to show the inhabitants that
I was a prisoner. I was quite pleased when
we arrived at our destination.
The commandant received me with a
growl, and I was taken to the guard-room,
where the same Hun N.C.O. casually
informed me that I was to be shot. In an
unconvincing way I told myself this was
nonsense. The next move was not at all
reassuring. I was marched through the back
door into a tiny courtyard, accompanied by
the sergeant of the guard and several privates
armed with rifles ! I am glad to say that the
bluff was soon over, and I was put into a half
dark stone cell. In a short time I was fished
out to see Lieutenant Schram, who told me
that I was the first to escape from there, but
that I should never get another opportunity.
32
RETAKEN
He went on to say that when my disappearance
had been discovered the previous evening,
it was thought that I had closely followed the
flying officer who had asked me to dinner when
he left through the main gate, until the
broken wires were found. Men and trained
dogs had then endeavoured to trace me, but
that, unfortunately, they had all gone the
wrong way !
When I was taken back at the end of the
interview, a sergeant-major and a corporal
thought they would have some fun at my
expense. They opened my cell door and then
led me to a comparatively comfortable room
close by, and asked me which I preferred.
However, I upset their calculations by
entering my original cell and sitting down.
As the result of an argument which ensued
I was put into the better room, where I fell
asleep. This comfort was only short-lived,
and soon, by order of the commandant, I was
put into the original cell again. It snowed all
the next evening, and when the sergeant
brought me my watery supper, I asked if he
would stand my boots by the guaidroom fire
that night as the fleece held such a quantity
of water. He seemed surprised at my request,
but said that he would ask. He soon re-
turned and said that it could not be done.
It was four days before I felt at all warm, my
clothes drying on me all the time. I have
D
'BROTHER BOSCH'
since been told that Lieutenant Schram,
while speaking of me later to other captured
officers, asserted that he dried all my clothes
for me. Yet this same gentleman during his
first interrogation asked me why we English
called them uncultured !
On the afternoon of the fourth day I was
ordered to get ready to proceed to Germany,
as enough prisoners had been captured at the
Beaumont Hamel show to make up a large
draft. At the main entrance I found a group
of about twenty officers, composed of eight
or ten Zouaves and the remainder British.
Then off we went to the station in high
spirits, for it is not often that one gets a
chance of a tour in Germany, via France and
Belgium, free of charge !
34
CHAPTER V
OSNABRUCK
OUR guards had mostly been selected from
different regiments, on account of their being
due for leave in Germany. The officer in
charge travelled separately. He had recently
been wounded, and had seen rather more of
the British than he cared; in consequence he
was almost human ! Not yet being dry and
now having no overcoat, I felt decidedly cold.
We arrived late at St. Quentin and settled
down for a long wait, but our good spirits
were infectious and, besides, some of our
number had with them a surplus of turnip
jam, and we were allowed to sing. This we
did with a vengeance, and it was indeed curious
to hear the desolate waiting-room echoing
the popular strains of : ' Pack up your
troubles in your old kit bag, and smile, smile,
smile." This impromptu concert delighted
the French, who joined in as best they could.
Soon we had quite a little audience of solitary
Huns, who peeped through the open door
and listened to the ' Mad English," open-
35
'BROTHER BOSCH'
mouthed. At last the express steamed in
from the south-east and in quite an ex-
hausted condition we were graciously shown
in to second-class compartments in a way
which clearly said "Second class is much too
good for you."
After a tedious journey, during which we
received something to eat, we arrived at
Cologne about eleven o'clock the next
morning. The station contained almost
every variety of Hun. These people repre-
sented the cowards who in 1914 had flung
stones at and otherwise insulted those brave
men of our old regular army, who stopped at
this station, packed in cattle trucks like
animals, mostly wounded and dying. Nearly
two years of war have passed since then,
bringing with them suffering and a certain
refining influence which had not altogether
been without its effect. Now, though most
of them stared rudely, few showed signs of
open hostility. Following our officer down
some steps and winding subways, we were
approaching a large restaurant, when a
rather senior Hun officer ran after us, cursing
us in German for not saluting him when we
had passed him on the platform ! One of the
British replied, ' Nix verstand ' (No com-
pris). Whereupon he went away thoroughly
disgusted.
One of our party, a major of the gth
36
OSN ABRUCK
Zouaves, who spoke German very well,
asked if we might have some refreshments,
to which the officer acquiesced. We entered
a large and almost unoccupied room sepa-
rated from the main dining-hall by a glass
screen, and took up our positions at a table
by the window. Immediately outside
towered the famous cathedral, shutting out
most of the sky, the spires and countless
pinnacles showing up to great advantage in
the sunshine. Soon a waiter appeared with
a menu containing a list of weird dishes, the
most popular of which was a very thin slice
of sausage reposing on a very large slice of
black bread. This cost one mark (but per-
haps they saw us coming !). Great excite-
ment was caused when some one found it was
possible to obtain goose, but as our very
limited supply of money was almost ex-
hausted this had to be ruled out. The fish
salad when it arrived was peculiarly nasty.
It was almost raw and had an overpowering
flavour of mud ! Beer did not seem to be
allowed, but a tip soon settled that, and we
all received large glasses of light lager. The
people in the hall were a funny-looking crowd
but quite amusing to watch, mostly drinking
quantities of beer and regarding us with
sullen curiosity through the glass screen.
The majority of the men were ugly and
square-headed, with closely-cropped hair,
37
'BROTHER BOSCH'
reminding one of a group of convicts. Some
of the girls, however, gave us encouraging
smiles.
When the bills were being settled up,
there strode in an angry German major,
complete with helmet and sword, who
entered into a violent conversation with our
unfortunate officer, who stood at the salute
most of the time. After making a noise like
a dog fight he departed with a final gesticula-
tion in our direction. We did not know
what the row was about, but suppose that
the officer in charge had been thus strafed in
public, either for bringing us there or allowing
us to have beer. At any rate, we were hurried
out to await our train on the platform. A
small circle soon formed round us, largely
made up of sailors, whom we concluded
must be on indefinite leave. As our train
was steaming up a civilian gave vent to his
feelings by fixing his evil eyes upon us and
at the same time moving his lips with a
deadly purpose, cursing us inaudibly. I
should never have thought a face could
express such condensed hatred. He must
have been conversing with his Satanic
Master. However, as we only smiled sweetly
in return, he cannot have felt much satisfac-
tion. Before getting into our train we spent
our last few pfennigs buying sweets at an
automatic slot machine. The acquired
38
OSNABRUCK
sweets were wrapped in a paper covering,
on which different notices were printed, the
majority were to this effect : ' Remember
the shameful Baralong outrage, in punish-
ment for which our airships shall devastate
the Eastern Counties of England and destroy
London." We showed this to our guards,,
who firmly believed that it would shortly
come to pass, and could not understand our
amusement. A few minutes out from
Cologne, as we went rushing over a long iron
bridge, we celebrated our crossing the Rhine
by winding up our watches and singing the
popular song : When we've wound up the
watch on the Rhine."
In the late afternoon the train passed
through Essen, the blast furnaces casting a
lurid light on the surrounding country.
Travelling northwards we ran into snow,
which, when we alighted was quite deep.
This was our destination, Osnabriick. At
first it looked as if we should have to walk
to the camp, but the German officer was,
luckily, able to hire two brakes, and away we
went. Osnabriick is an old town with a
population of about 60,000. We drove past
numbers of children and dogs revelling in the
first winter sports, utterly regardless of
their country's serious condition. On our
arrival an officer and several N.C.O.'s took
all particulars and descriptions. It was only
39
'BROTHER BOSCH'
then that I discovered, to my astonishment,
that my eyes were blue. Next we found a
hot shower-bath in store for us, during which
procedure all our clothes were taken away on
the excuse that they were to be disinfected.
We enjoyed the bath very much and were
longing for a clean change, but were dis-
gusted to find that this was not forthcoming,
and that we had to put on the same torn and
muddy clothes once more, which the Huns had
only removed to search. We were then locked
in a room for ten days and told that we
were in quarantine, no account being taken
of the three weeks or a month that some of
us had already spent in the German lines.
The whole thing was a farce. We could
then buy a change of underclothing, and
daily consumed prodigious quantities of
Dutch chocolate, also procurable from the
canteen (which I afterwards bought in
Holland for one-tenth of the price). Some
of the British who had been in the camp for
some time managed to get books and a
little food in to us. A great deal of our time
was occupied in making out orders for things
we wanted from home, edibles taking by far
the most important part. Every evening
after supper we always drank the King's
health in tea. Though the quality of the
beverage was weak, our loyalty had never
been stronger. W 7 hen extra dull our home-
40
OSNABRUCK
made band played some rousing selection;
my special instrument required much skill,
and consisted of the dustbin lid and a poker.
The climax was reached one day when the
sentry entered with a paper from the canteen,
announcing that the British claimed to have
shot down two Zeppelins in flames over
London.
Eventually the tenth day passed and we
were free to go in with the others, who at
once made us welcome. Owing to the
monotony of camp life it is very difficult to
write a consecutive account of the daily
routine, which would be of any interest to
the reader. I shall therefore only outline
certain points under various headings, which
I venture to hope may not prove a source of
boredom, judging from the numerous ques-
tions contained in letters of enquiry directed
to me.
ACCOMMODATION.- -The main three-storey
building was a converted German artillery
barracks, with the gravelled courtyards used
for exercising divided by a disused riding-
school. The prisoners consisted of about
seventy-five French, living on the ground
floor, and eighty-five British, mostly R.F.C.,
taken at the Somme, living on the second
floor, and from one hundred and fifty to two
hundred Russians on the third. The rooms
each contained from four to ten beds, accord-
'BROTHER BOSCH'
ing to the size, which we usually stacked two
deep so that they should take up as little
space as possible. With the aid of wall
paper, deck chairs, tablecloths and the like,
obtainable at the canteen, together with
pictures from home, some of the rooms
looked very cosy indeed. Each one con-
tained a stove, which at first we were able
to keep well supplied, as it was possible to
buy coal in addition to the ration, though
latterly there was a considerable shortage.
Mattresses were either spring or made of old
straw, and sometimes contained little creepy-
crawlies. My record evening catch numbered
twenty-five, and this little collection afforded
some exciting races. By the way, I might
add that if one puts a match to them they
go off ' pop." The Germans rendered
slight assistance, but the Keating's con-
tained in our parcels soon got them under
way. The sanitary conditions were not good,
but I must admit to having seen a little
disinfectant. Part of the time we were
allowed a common room of our own, but
latterly had to share one with the Russians.
Washing was sent to the town weekly. A
medical orderly was on the premises during
the day, and a doctor came two or three
times a week. Before leaving we were
inoculated against smallpox, typhoid and
cholera. This was a most obnoxious pro-
42
OSNABRUCK
ceeding which took place every six or seven
days, until the doctor had jabbed us all six
times in the chest with his confounded needle.
French and Russian orderlies were provided,
each detailed to look after one or two
rooms.
RECREATION. At first it was possible to
play football, but that was soon stopped.
Rackets, boxing and a sort of cricket were
played in the riding-school ; once or twice a
week we organised a concert or a dance,
theatrical costumes being hired from the
town on parole. The Russians had a really
first-class mandoline and balolaika band,
with which they played many of their
waltzes and curiously attractive folk-songs.
During these concerts a certain Englishman
solemnly sang some new Russian songs,
learnt by heart, of which he did not under-
stand a word. A young Russian used to
make up into a delightful girl, who, with a
partner, danced a cake-walk, accompanied
by the blare of their new brass band. Mando-
lines were soon in vogue and most rooms
could boast of several. As we were mostly
beginners the resulting noise is best left to
the imagination. Whist drives, bridge tourna-
ments, etc., helped to pass the time, and a
good many of us improved the shining hour
by learning French, Russian or German in
exchange for lessons in our own language.
43
'BROTHER BOSCH'
The winter brought with it many snow
fights, and a successful slide which I started,
though popular, resulted in many bumps and
bruises. The bottom of the slide led into
some barbed wire which was decidedly
dangerous. One fatal day I finished the
course with three Russians and a fat Austra-
lian on the top of me, unintentionally
making a first-class broom; first I passed
over a sharp stone, and then came to a stop
on the barbed wire fence. (Some of the marks
caused by this episode remain with me to
this day.) We had one or two nice walks
weekly, on parole, escorted by a German
officer. One day, during a long walk through
some pine woods, we had reached the top of a
hill when we came upon a large slab of rock,
about four feet thick, resting on two smaller
ones, with a broad crack right through it
near the centre. The German officer told us
a legend about this, which affirms that at
this spot somewhere about the eighth
century Emperor Charlemagne met some
heathen chieftain, who having already heard
of his feats of strength promised to become a
Christian should he be able to split this rock.
The emperor took up a sledge hammer and
with one tremendous blow broke the rock in
two. (He must have been some man !)
TREATMENT. When I first arrived the
commandant, who was a major, was quite
44
OSNABRUCK
popular, granting all reasonable requests
and not bothering us the whole time, conse-
quently we did our best to avoid trouble ;
but we were in Hunland, therefore this state
of affairs could not last long. The com-
mandant was soon replaced by a colonel
with a white beard and a benevolent aspect,
though in reality he was inclined to be
vicious and most unreasonable. He was soon
followed by two junior officers, Lieutenants
Briggs and Rosenthal. The former was an
officer of the Reserve, one of the nicest
Germans I have ever met, and I can almost
safely say a gentleman. He did all that he
could to avoid friction and make things run
smoothly. Rosenthal was a Regular officer
and a typical Hun, who was sent round the
various camps to make things generally un-
comfortable for the inmates, in which
capacity he was a great success. He made
promises but very rarely fulfilled any, smiling
to your face and at the same time arranging
to have you punished. He crept along the
passages in thick carpet shoes after lights out,
spying on our movements, and was twice
discovered listening at a keyhole to the
conversation. After having been there a
month I spent a fortnight in solitary confine-
ment for my Cambrai escape, at which I
cannot complain, and came out on Christmas
Day. Later on, while at this camp, I carried
45
'BROTHER BOSCH'
out two sentences, each of three days> for
slight offences.
PARCELS AND MONEY. We received par-
cels of food and clothing from six to eight
weeks after first writing for them. For the
most part these came regularly, only a few
being lost. This was a good thing for us, the
camp authorities often providing for a meal
only some raw fish and garlic or uneatable
gherkins and dry black bread ! Trunks,
suit cases, and other heavy articles came by
the American Express and were longer on
their way. Parcels of food were opened, and
the tins taken intact to one's individual
locker, where it could be obtained most
mornings at a given hour. As required the
tins were then opened by the Huns and the
contents placed in jars or dishes, which one
must provide before it can be taken away.
Sometimes whole rooms decided to mess
together, sharing all their parcels, but more
often two or three friends arranged their own
little mess.
Letters at first came quickly, but were
often delayed by the German censors at this
camp, who, I believe, dealt with almost all
British communications to prisoners in
Germany. Money is obtained by signing a
cheque, which is cashed in a week or two by
the American Express. Even after America's
entry into the war money could still be
OSN ABRtJCK
obtained through this company (which is, I
believe, German owned). German daily
papers are procurable at most camps, and
usually contain a more or less intact British
official communique, which is translated by
some German scholar and posted up. A map
of the front is usually kept by the prisoners
and corrected from time to time. Christmas
was celebrated by every one and the canteen
Weiswein soon bought up. The Germans
put an illuminated Christmas tree in the
dining-hall, but unfortunately counteracted
their display of good feeling by decorating the
large portraits of the Kaiser and Hindenburg,
who stared down at us from the walls and
quite spoilt our already nasty food. On New
Year's Night we collected on the stairs, and
joining hands with a few French and Russians,
sang " Auld Lang Syne," and scampered
back to bed before the wily Huns appeared on
the scene.
One day when drawing our parcels we
received some little cardboard packets of
compressed dates as usual, but this time a
small white strip of paper was pasted on the
outside of each bearing the words, " Produce
of Mesopotamia under British occupation."
This must have been pleasant reading for the
Huns. At last, one morning we were in-
formed that in three days' time we were to
proceed to an ' All British ' camp at
47
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Clausthal. Before our departure our Allies
gave two farewell concerts in our honour,
which were a great success, for when we left
they knew that they were losing most of the
' life " of the camp.
Living on our floor with a room to himself
was a French captain of extremely doubtful
character; he was a heavily built, bearded
man of middle age whom nobody liked. I was
told that in civil life he was a professional
agitator ! Now he confined his energies to
making trouble between the different nation-
alities. He was always hanging about where
he wasn't wanted, poking his nose into other
people's business, and what was even more
suspicious, he appeared to be on the best of
terms with the Germans. He wore a long
row of medals, which were inclined to change
from day to day. Some senior French
officers inquired if he had the right to wear
them, but he refused to recognise their
authority. Some Britishers had also been
caught in a mysterious way just before
attempting to escape. The last night before
our departure we thought we would at least
show him that he was not popular. Over a
dozen of us burst into his room, armed to the
teeth, and holding him on to his bed covered
him from head to foot with treacle, jam,
coffee grounds, ashes and water, at the same
time doing him no bodily injury. I expect he
OSNABROCK
thought his plight more serious than it really
was, for the whole place echoed with his
shouts for help. Unfortunately for him the
French on the floor above, being greatly
pleased at the proceedings, only turned over
and went to sleep again. When, after a few
seconds, we bolted to our rooms he rushed
down to the orderly's quarters, exclaiming,
" I am dying I am covered with blood ! '
This sounded terrible, but when a match
was struck revealing nothing but treacle and
jam they could scarcely conceal their merri-
ment. Later on the Huns arrived and
succeeded in obtaining most of our names,
but even they thought the affair quite a
good joke. The next morning most of the
French collected quietly near the gate to
give us a " send off," but the commandant,
after screaming and being very rude to every
one had them locked in their rooms. He
turned his back on us when we left, only
Lieutenant Briggs having the decency to
salute.
BE. E
49
CHAPTER VI
CLAUSTHAL
IT was just like house moving. The heavy
luggage was sent in advance, but we pre-
ferred to carry our dearest belongings.
Many of us must have resembled fully-
equipped pedlars or super-caddis-worms
carrying their houses on their backs, but in
our case these were not composed of sticks or
dead leaves, but provisions, gramophones,
mandolines, pots, kettles, etc., tied together
with string, the rattle of which appeared to
amuse some of the civil population. Some
time after leaving Osnabriick the train
stopped at an out-of-the-way station near
Hildesheim, close to a group of men working
on the line. At once a solitary khaki-clad
figure detached itself from the rest and came
towards us at the run. It turned out to be a
British Tommy bubbling over with pleasure
at seeing some of his own race to speak to at
last, after having Russians and Huns for his
companions for many months. We gave
him a summary of the latest news and all
kinds of tinned foods. The other Russian
50
CLAUSTHAL
prisoners soon followed him, looking half
starved, and clamoured for bread, which
we had just time to give them when a bad
tempered Hun drove them back to their
work.
Towards evening we passed through
Hammelin (better know r n to us as " Hame-
lin "), but saw no signs of the Pied Piper.
Now there was a man who was not brought
into the world for nothing, but used his
genius to the destruction of small Huns !
The higher the train climbed into the Hartz
Mountains the deeper became the snow.
From the dimly-lighted carriages we could
sometimes see the dark outline of high
wooded hills between the snow flurries. A
little before midnight we stopped with a jerk
and were told to " Aus." As I followed the
others into a restaurant winter garden affair,
five minutes after our arrival, I was delighted
to hear several small gramophones already
playing ' Bric-a-brac ' and other selections
from musical comedies, each insisting that its
was the only tune worth listening to. Owing
to the conditions escape was out of the ques-
tion ; the Germans did not therefore worry
much in fact, coming up in the train a
rather nice N.C.O. at last yielded to my
entreaties and sang a verse of the Hymn
of Hate, accompanying himself on my
mandoline.
'BROTHER BOSCH'
After standing two hours in a queue at the
bar I managed to procure some quite good
wine which made us feel almost at home.
For the rest of that night it was almost
possible to imagine oneself free, but snowed
up. The next morning, on hearing that the
camp was about two miles away, we inquired
if some of the larger suit cases might be left
behind as the walking was so heavy, to be
brought up later, at an extra charge, by the
station sleigh, which came up to the camp
every day. But we might have known that
it would only be a waste of breath asking the
Huns to help us in any way. (Later, when
some very senior British officers arrived,
bound for this camp, they received identi-
cally the same treatment.) After an uphill
struggle we reached the camp, and were kept
standing quite unnecessarily for three-
quarters of an hour in a snowstorm before
being admitted to the dining-hall. On
entering I was lucky enough to run straight
into an Australian flight commander, who
had often taken me up in my observing days
at my first squadron, then at a village behind
Ypres.
The camp is well situated, being almost
surrounded by pine forests, which cover most
of the Hartz Mountains. If the day is at all
clear a high and rather rounded hill is visible
to the eastward, conspicuous for its bleakness,
52
CLAUSTHAL
standing well above the dark intervening
fir-clad hills. This is the Brocken, the
highest mountain in Northern Germany, on
the summit of which Goethe's Faust was
evolved. It is difficult to realise that it is,
roughly, 5,000 feet above sea level, or
the camp 2,000. The ascent in this part
from the foot hills being gradual, the sur-
rounding country is not so imposing as
one would expect. Outside the camp is a
small picturesque lake, which was frozen
over most of the time. On a clear evening it
was fascinating to watch the superb soaring
of the buzzards. It seemed as if their
telescopic eyes could make out the wings on
some of our tunics, for with a jeering cry
they would commence gliding in a vast sweep-
ing circle with scarcely a movement of
their wings, every feather under perfect con-
trol, until at length they disappeared into
the endless blue. We still have a lot to learn,
but talk of the " homing instinct," if only a
few aeroplanes had been handy I know which
would have made the quickest non-stop
flight to " Blighty. "
The next day a number of Belgian officers
left to take up their abode in the quarters
vacated by us in Osnabriick, many of them
resplendent in their tasselled caps, and a few
wearing clanking swords which they had
been allowed to retain in recognition of the
53
'BROTHER BOSCH'
gallant way they had defended some of the
Liege and Antwerp forts. With them went
two Belgian officers, who, curiously enough,
could not speak their lingo. This was not
surprising, however, as their real names were
Captain Nicholl, R.F.C., and Lieutenant
Reid, R.N. It appeared they intended to
jump the train before reaching their destina-
tion and have a try for the Dutch border.
German trains often go slowly and stop, but
as luck would have it this one, as we after-
wards heard, refused to do anything of the
sort. Whether Captain Nicholl succeeded in
getting off I do not know, but Lieutenant
Reid, seeing discovery imminent, jumped
through the carriage window and broke his
ankles. They were both taken to Osnabriick
and Nicholl was sent back under arrest.
After three weeks Lieutenant Reid returned,
lame, but quite cheery. As he was under
arrest, however, we could not learn much of
their treatment, though it was common
knowledge that he had left hospital very
soon, and was made to walk up from the
station as best he could. His sentence was
lengthened by some days on the charge of
answering his wrong name at a roll call on
arrival at Osnabriick, but as he was quite
unable to stand this was obviously a fabri-
cation.
When we had been there about ten days a
54
CLAUSTHAL
lot more British officers arrived from Fried-
burg, where they had received quite good
treatment. Many of the prisoners at this
camp had been taken at Mons, La Cateau
and Ypres, and were consequently a little out
of date. They could hardly realise what a
' Somme barrage ' was like, and were
therefore known as the ' ' Bow and Arrow '
men ! On the journey to Clausthal two of
them managed to jump from the train and
got clear away. About this time five Italian
officers were warned to leave the next day.
The preceding night, after supper, Colonel
Bond (K.O. Y.L.I.), after a short speech,
proposed the toast ' Viva Italia," which we
drank in canteen Weiswein, or imitation
port, to which a senior Italian officer en-
thusiastically replied with a Viva Inghil-
terra." After their departure the camp
contained British only, the remaining
number of officers being a little over three
hundred.
ACCOMMODATION. --The principal building,
in which about half of us lived, was a
Kurhaus, or small hydro, in peace time,
with a large dining-hall at one end. The
smallest bedrooms were occupied by one or
two senior officers, while the remainder held
about half a dozen. A shower-bath was on
the premises. The rest of us were quartered
in three temporary wooden barracks, where
55
(S
BROTHER BOSCH
most of the rooms were rather over-crowded,
holding from six to eight fellows.
RECREATION. At a portion of the grounds
was a fairly steep incline and on this we made
a short toboggan run, banking the snow up
steeply at the turn to avoid going through
the barbed wire. In many instances it must
have been amusing to watch a small sleigh
being steered by a novice, with fat indi-
viduals sitting on the top of him, trying to
avoid the young trees, usually without any
success. Unfortunately for me I had a nasty
knack of always being in the worst crashes.
It is impossible to find a more effective way
of destroying boots than continually steering
with one's feet. Other people displayed their
extensive knowledge of winter sports by
ski-ing, or rather lying on their backs, unin-
tentionally waving their skis in the air. This
soon had to be abandoned, however, as the
weather soon became uncertain, often chang-
ing from a hard frost to a violent thaw every
two or three days.
A naval officer in my barrack received a
miniature billiard- table, which became im-
mensely popular. Cards, roulette, ping-pong
and chess greatly assisted in passing the time.
We also had quite a good camp library, the
books mostly having been received from
home. I often heard it remarked that life
there was one long queue, and it was not far
56
CLAUSTHAL
wrong. Often one passed the morning
waiting one's turn for the ' tin room," or
newly arrived parcels, while soon after lunch
it was customary to see the more patient
individuals already lining up chairs and
settling down to their books, to wait for hot
water which was sold at tea time. All this
may sound most enjoyable, but I will
now endeavour to explain a little of the
wonderful system then in vogue at this
camp, the only object of which seemed to
be to remind you in an objectionable manner
that you were a prisoner on every possible
occasion.
TREATMENT. When we first arrived the
commandant was not so bad, but after
several visits from corps headquarters at
Hanover, he resigned his post, it is said, on
the grounds that he could not treat British
officers like common criminals, as he was
supposed to. I think this is highly probable,
though I cannot vouch for the truth of the
assertion, it being only hearsay. He was
replaced by a fat and rather harmless dug-out
captain, who proved to be only a pompous
figurehead. The camp was entirely run by
the second in command, Lieutenant Wolfe.
In England persons of this type are so rarely
met with that our language does not contain
the necessary words to describe them ade-
quately. In Germany they are compara-
57
'BROTHER BOSCH'
tively common, therefore, collectively they
may be put down as belonging to the " super-
swine class " ! Wolfe was arrogance per-
sonified. He possessed a closely-cropped
bullet head, and a round, somewhat bloated
pale face, near the centre of which gleamed
two small, cold, calculating blue eyes; the
whole effect so strongly resembled a white
pig that among ourselves he was usually
known as " pig face." He belonged to a
reserve Hanoverian regiment, and was a
schoolmaster by profession. It is small
wonder that children under such authority
never learn to know the true meaning of the
word " kultur." Somehow he knew about
the treacling affair at our last camp, for after
getting our names from Osnabriick, he
strained every nerve to get us court-mar-
tialled and punished. Two or three times a
week we criminals had to assemble outside his
room at an appointed hour. After a long
wait " My Lord " strolled in, usually an
hour late, walking very slowly, chewing a
cigar. At first he only produced a small
packet of papers, on most of which our
individual statements were written, and asked
absurd questions through an interpreter.
But as time went on the case assumed larger
proportions, and the bundle of nonsense
increased to an enormous size. At almost
every visit we had to sign some new docu-
58
CLAUSTHAL
ment certifying that we understood the
latest communication on the subject from
headquarters. After much hard work ' ' pig
face ' achieved his object, and we were
warned to attend a court-martial at Hanover.
However, this is worthy 6f a separate
chapter.
One day an impossible staff captain arrived
from Hanover to inspect the camp. He was
a large, arrogant bully, who brought with
him two detectives for the purpose of search-
ing our rooms and kit for forbidden articles.
We will not waste time discussing his man-
ners ; he had none. The detectives seemed
quite decent, and therefore cannot have been
properly dehumanised by the powers that be.
In German camps it is forbidden to sit or lie
on one's bed during the day, unless one has
reported sick at roll call. This captain
suddenly entered a room in our barrack and
surprised a Scotsman lying on his bed reading
a book. Seeing that the culprit had his
clothes on, he screamed out such a stream of
unintelligible curses and threats, that had a
similar noise taken place at the Zoo, I am
sure the keepers would have rushed out
to stop the monkey fight. The Scotsman
waited until this torrent had somewhat
abated, then slowly getting to his feet, he
drawled out in a bewildered way, ' And
how's your faither ! ' It is doubtful whether
59
'BROTHER BOSCH'
the startled captain understood this kind
inquiry or not, but he rushed out of the room
and, grabbing a sentry's bayonet, returned
and stuck it in the boards at his feet. Ours
was the next room he favoured. Without the
semblance of a knock he burst in, and as
nothing of importance had been found
during the search, swaggered up and down
in a most offensive manner with his nose in
the air. In a few seconds he came to a stop
beside me and shouted that he wished me to
stand to attention, half dressed as I was
(having just been searched). This was just
about the limit, so pretending not to under-
stand what he meant I turned round and
busied myself with my clothing, at the same
time humming softly to myself the air of
' Pack up your troubles," to relieve my
feelings and stifle a desire to give him one
under the jaw. On a word of command
two scared sentries appeared, having been
ordered to take me to the guardroom imme-
diately. The usually harmless commandant
was so frightened that he rolled his eyes
and screamed after me, when exhaustion
put an end to the captain's song. It was
pitiable to see two such men possessing not
an atom of self-control between them, but
it was not so amusing as one might think.
It certainly looked as if I should be murdered
without delay. I was put into a room
60
CLAUSTHAL
adjoining that occupied by the main guard,
where I remained for three hours. During
this period I got into conversation with some
of the soldiers and was surprised at the bitter
way they spoke of Lieutenant Wolfe, so
much so that if he returned to the front
I should be inclined to think that the quarter
where his greatest danger lay was not in
front but behind.
When I had the room to myself I spent the
time exploring for useful articles. My oft-
interrupted search resulted in the discovery
of a heap of things in the far corner. At
length an officer arrived and informed me
that I should only receive three days'
' stuben ' arrest (solitary confinement) .
After which I was released. On re-entering
the camp I did my best to look innocent,
though, as luck would have it, I was really
the richer by a couple of maps, a compass
and some candles ! One of the orderlies in
the camp was a cobbler, but though the Huns
frequently assured us they would provide
him with the necessary tools, it took two
months for their promise to materialise.
During this period my already patched boots
threatened to give out altogether. I wrote
a note to the commandant, explaining that I
was daily expecting boots from England, but
as these appeared to have been delayed,
asked that I might be allowed to order some
61
'BROTHER BOSCH'
canvas shoes at the canteen in the mean-
time. The next day the interpreter handed
me the answer : ' Order leather from
England, and have the boots resoled." I
could not help smiling, and casually remarked
that it was worse than useless. Whereupon
he snapped, What, you say that the com-
mandant's note is useless ? All right, I will
you report."
In due course the usual notice was posted
up to the effect That the English Ober-
Lieutenant Gerald Knight would for gross
insolence the next three days in arrest
spend." Usually, roll call took place outside
the main building, and as it generally meant
standing in water or melting snow, was not
particularly pleasant. Wolfe very often
managed to take these parades, and did not
miss this excellent opportunity for showing
his authority. After arriving late he would
stroll up and down the line, hands in pockets,
looking as dignified as possible, always wast-
ing time. ' Appel, ' ' when properly conducted,
never lasted more than ten minutes or a
quarter of an hour. On one occasion, Wolfe,
who was well protected against the cold,
kept us standing in a blizzard for an hour
and a half, during which time he counted us
five or six times, obviously for his own
amusement. It was bad enough to have to
stand there oneself, but it was much more
62
CLAUSTHAL
annoying to watch our senior officers,
majors, colonels, and a major-general,
awaiting the pleasure of a conceited German
lieutenant. Almost every day some new
order was issued, for the most part affecting
little things, for example stating that in
future no food would be allowed in the rooms.
A few days later it was not allowed in the
cupboards standing in the passages. Soon
it was only allowed in the dining-hall, where
the accommodation was quite inadequate.
One day two fellows were quietly walking
down a path near the wire, when a sentry
raised his rifle and threatened to shoot them
if they did not at once go further from the
wire ! They refused to move, and told the
sentry that they had a perfect right there.
Whereupon the man at last lowered his rifle.
On a complaint being made, Lieutenant
Wolfe, knowing that few people were about,
ingeniously squashed the case by refusing to
take the matter up unless six witnesses were
produced. There was a second lieutenant,
junior to Wolfe (commonly known as the
Worm!), who arrived after receiving promo-
tion from the ranks. He was rather a miser-
able sort of person, inclined to follow Wolfe's
example in most things. He was for ever on
the prowl and it never occurred to him to
knock before entering a room. Once he
came into our room and, assisted by two
63
'BROTHER BOSCH'
guards, removed the mirror, shaving tackle,
hair brushes, etc., from the window, placing
them on the wash-hand stand in the darkest
corner of the room. After this performance
he drew himself up sedately and exclaimed,
" That is the way we do things in Germany ! '
These little incidents are most annoying at
any time, but especially so when one is
wearing boots possessing good kicking
qualities.
It was not until May that the snow finally
disappeared and we were treated to a spell
of warm weather, during which every one did
their best to get sunburnt, and set to work
on the new tennis court we had permission to
make.
Lizards and frogs appeared from nowhere
and endeavoured to inform us that spring was
approaching. It is curious the way camp
life again makes one childish and easily
amused. For instance, it was quite a common
occurrence to see a small crowd of fellows
looking excitedly at something. On closer
investigation it in most cases turned out to
be a toad or a worm. As it became dry under-
foot we were able to go out for walks on
parole with a German officer. The stout
commandant usually took us, and not only
did he make himself quite agreeable, but also
chose some very pretty paths among the
various pine woods. One afternoon two
CLAUSTHAL
fellows succeeded in cutting the outside
wire in broad daylight and getting into the
woods unobserved. Seeing his opportunity
a tall Canadian, named Colquhoun, hastily
gathered up his valuables and dived through
the inviting gap in the wire (which had been
cleverly cut behind some young fir trees
and up beside a post). He was just dis-
appearing into the woods at record speed (the
sentry's back being still turned) when he
was seen by some children playing on a
hillock a little way off. They at once made a
noise, and several of them rushed down to
tell the sentry. That man, however, was
much too grand to listen to " kids " talking
nonsense, so drove them off with many
threats and violent gestures. When the
escape was discovered, green-uniformed
soldiers of Jaeger regiments and mounted
foresters scoured the woods for nearly two
days without any success. Shortly after a
notice was posted up stating that when the
escaped officers were recaptured, they would
in all probability be tried by court-martial
for breaking their parole in looking for hiding
places when out for walks ; this, needless to
say, was all nonsense, the officers in question
being miles away by that time.
This notice could not be regarded in any
other light than that of an insult to British
officers in general, causing much resentment.
B.B. F
(t
BROTHER BOSCH
All future walks were voluntarily given up,
and at evening ' appel ' all parole cards,
without exception, were returned to the
Huns by mutual consent, to avoid any
insinuations of this sort in the future. After
being out for about a fortnight the outlaws
were all recaptured and taken to Strohen,
where I afterwards met them. The first two
put up a very good show, being recaptured
in an exhausted condition by a road guard,
twenty odd kilometres from the frontier,
much to their disgust. My friend, the
Canadian, fought a good fight against an
unkind fate. While washing in a stream one
night he was taken by a man with a revolver
looking for an escaped Russian prisoner.
He was then put into prison at a men's camp,
where he succeeded in obtaining some wire-
cutters from other Britishers. Forcing his
way through the skylight into a dark and
rainy night, he dropped to earth, cut the
wire and was again free. The drop previous
to cutting the wire had, however, damaged
his compass, which stuck and led him south
instead of west. Three days later he was
taken near a bridge over a river by men and
trained dogs, and transferred to a town
prison. There I believe he received quite
decent food, for which he was very thankful.
During the late afternoon some children
came to annoy him by shouting rude remarks
66
CLAUSTHAL
from the passage. Even these little wretches
were of some use, for at their departure they
touched something on the outside of his
door which jingled, and turned out to be a
bunch of keys, which he was able to get
possession of by pulling them through the
sliding panel used by the guard for spying
on the prisoner. When it was dark the ad-
venturer produced the keys and by dint of
much labour succeeded in opening his own
cell and walking out.
At the back of one of the nearer buildings
he discovered a bicycle, which he appro-
priated without a second thought. Having
discovered his whereabouts he struck north
to get into his original line, and was unfor-
tunately discovered by some N.C.O.'s the
next day in almost a starving condition,,
repairing his bicycle in a shed. After such
an attempt as this it is indeed hard to return
to serve one's sentence at a camp prison or
fortress, knowing full well that, although
having done one's utmost, even the slightest
official recognition is out of the question.
After the second escape the Hun in charge of
the men's camp 'phoned to Clausthal, stating
that the officer had been recaptured. Wolfe
hearing the joyous news started out to bring
back the truant as a lesson to others. ' But
when he got there the cupboard was bare," so
he returned to the " Hartz-Gebirge " empty-
F 2
'BROTHER BOSCH'
handed and disconsolate. The only really
decent German at the camp appeared to be
an " aspirant," or first class warrant officer,
who treated us quite fairly when opportunity
offered ; however, his superiors saw to it that
this was not often.
PARCELS. These arrived fairly well, but
were periodically hoarded up by the Huns
for a week or ten days, where we could not
get them without any previous warning.
When drawing food all the tins had to be left
behind until wanted for immediate consump-
tion. It was therefore very difficult to lay
in a supply against such emergencies.
During these periods most messes deter-
mined, if possible, to have a meal of sorts at
tea-time. Gradually, as the provisions got
lower and lower, the menu read somewhat
as follows : Tea (no milk or sugar) ; very
limited black bread, thinly spread with soup
essence, or cafe au lait (when the dripping,
lard or potted meat had finally vanished).
The meal itself was rather nauseating, but
afterwards it was most gratifying to be able
to say that you had had tea ! When this
playful little " strafe was removed by an
order from Hanover the accumulated parcels
nearly caused the death of the Germans
working in the distributing room. Letters
were very slow in arriving. Once a general,
while inspecting the camp, entered the
68
CLAUSTHAL
parcel room, where he saw an English
captain assisting with the sorting of the
parcels. On finding that he spoke German
well the general advised him to devote his
spare time to the further study of that
language, which he said would be very useful
to him later. The captain was notorious for
saying exactly what he thought, and be
hanged to the consequences. His reply must
have been more than the German bargained
for : ' Sir, I do not intend to waste my
time learning a dead language ! ' It is
probable that the general had had previous
dealings with the British, and therefore
possessed a sense of humour so rare to the
Teuton, for he passed on without awarding
the expected punishment.
CHAPTER VII
COURT- MARTIALLED ! AND PROUD OF IT, TOO !
IT is not usual to boast of the fact that one
has been court-martialled, but I would not
have missed this experience for anything.
Early in the morning of May I5th, 1917,
we twelve gaol-birds, after being carefully
searched, left for the station escorted by eight
guards. During the march I began softly hum-
ming a tune, but was at once silenced by an
angry sentry, who told me that no noise of
any sort was allowed. Turning to the N.C.O.
I remarked that although he appeared to be
in charge of the party he had not objected
to my behaviour, and added that this seemed
almost as if the private was exceeding his
duty. This appealed to the dignity of his
position, and although he evidently did not
like me, he told the sentry off. On reaching
the station we had an unpleasant surprise,
for there, awaiting us on the platform, was
our old friend, Wolfe.
In the early afternoon we got out of the
train at a small station and were told that
70
COURT-MARTIALLED!
we should have to wait some hours for the
connection. The senior member of our party
inquired whether it was possible to get any-
thing to eat, as it was already very late for
the midday meal. Wolfe said he would try
and led us into the restaurant, where a
waiter inquired if we would have white or
green beans. These dishes sounded so
tempting that we ordered mixed. When the
result was served (beans stewed with gravy
and a little potato), it certainly greatly
exceeded our expectations, being really
appetising. When this was finished a re-
sourceful member of the party produced
some cards, and poker became the order of
the day. The game was still in progress
when one of the others called our attention
to the Red Cross collecting box on the table.
In trying to decipher the appeal for sub-
scriptions for the wounded, he had made a
great discovery. Actually beside the red
cross in a small circle made by a rubber
stamp were the words, ' Gott strafe
England ! '
Naturally, this display of childishness
amused us greatly, creating a general laugh.
This frivolity in the face of a court-martial
was more than Wolfe could stand, so after
one withering glance in our direction he
turned his back on us and stalked majesti-
cally from the room. Luckily I had in my
71
'BROTHER BOSCH'
possession a good supply of tin canteen
money (which was valueless outside the
camp) ; this was at once transferred to the
box as quickly as possible. It isn't often
that an Englishman has the pleasure of
subscribing to his own special hate box !
I am simply longing to know if the money
was eventually returned to the camp for its
equivalent value. Should this book in the
near future be read in Germany, as I expect
it will, would some kind Hun take the
trouble to satisfy my curiosity ? ' Royal Air
Force, England," will always find me.
About six o'clock that evening we reached
Hanover and were marched off through some
of the main streets to an unknown destina-
tion. The town is all right ; it is the people
that spoil it. Proceeding down some broad
streets we passed some very fine buildings,
statues and fountains. Once a well-dressed
woman unintentionally crossed our path,
with the result that a sentry roughly threw
her aside without a word of apology. Passing
through a small park we halted before a low,
dirty-looking stone building, with every
window strongly barred.
Presently Lieutenant Wolfe emerged with
a smile of welcome and bade us enter. In a
small courtyard a German N.C.O., with a
loud rasping voice, ordered the prison guard
to take us to our quarters. After much
72
COURT-MARTIALLED!
jangling of keys we were separated, to our
amazement, and each one of the party
locked in a cell by himself. Near the ceiling
was one small window about two feet square.
On examination this exit proved to be
guarded with fine wire netting and thick
iron bars firmly embedded in cement. As
usual, there was a special spy-hole in the
door which had to be covered on the inside.
Attached to each end of the bed were two
strong shackles, evidently intended to fasten
the occupant down if necessary. We after-
wards learnt that this was the garrison prison,
it being considerably worse than the civil
one. It does not seem surprising that they
are able to maintain their iron discipline, if
they resort to these methods. I think the
reader will agree that this is hardly a fit
place to lodge officers who, as yet, were only
awaiting their trial. Several times I faintly
heard the whirring of aeroplanes outside,
but only managed to see one by pulling
myself up to the window. We relieved the
monotony a little by whistling to each other
in the Morse code what we thought of the
Huns for putting us there. The thickness of
the walls, however, soon put a stop to this.
During the night I was awakened by several
thuds, followed by a crash, which came from
somewhere overhead. This puzzled me at the
time, but the next day I found the noise had
73
'BROTHER BOSCH'
been caused by one of our party rat-hunting
with the aid of a boot which had landed on
a tin basin instead of the rat.
The next morning the man with a voice like
a nutmeg grater released us from our cells,
and after a few preliminaries we were marched
off across the square to a large building,
which we entered about ten o'clock. Then
ensued a long but interesting wait, during
which we watched all sorts and conditions of
Huns passing up and down the main stair-
case. Amongst them we saw several colonels,
a general and a very smart monocled major,
whose helmet was rather the shape of a fire-
man's, showing that he was in some crack
cavalry regiment dragoons, I think. They
mostly wore pale blue-grey overcoats, and
their buttons, sword-hilts and golden eagles
on their helmets glittered exquisitely. The
general appearance was smart enough, but
everything seemed a trifle overdone, giving
one the impression that they had just stepped
out of a bandbox. Had a British officer been
standing beside these Germans, wearing his
sword, the contrast would have been a
strange one, for while looking just as smart
the uniform would have had the appearance
of being infinitely more serviceable. There
passed quite a number of Hun privates with
downcast eyes, having just received their
long sentences. An interpreter having
74
COURT-MARTIALLED!
nothing to do, tried hard to prove to us that
the U-boats would very soon bring England
to tier knees, but gave up the attempt on
receiving an invitation to the camp to watch
the daily arrival of the over-laden parcel
cart.
Eventually we were ushered into the court,
bareheaded, trying very hard to look meek.
The opening questions and formalities took
up a lot of time, and it really was a terrible
strain trying not to laugh when the inter-
preter solemnly explained to a German
captain that one of our party belonged to the
Middlesessex Regiment. Before getting to
business our individual conduct sheets were
read out, mine being about as black as it
could be. At our request two French majors
from Osnabriick were present. Both spoke
well on our behalf, explaining that this could
only be a quarrel between the French and
British in any case, but that they were
delighted at what had occurred, and most
certainly did not wish to prosecute. Every-
thing went in our favour, and, when the
treacling was described, even the presiding
Hun general laughed. The public prosecutor,
as usual, asked for the maximum punishment,
600 marks fine or 100 days fortress. Where-
upon the court rose and left the room,
looking justice itself. On their return it was
announced that the junior three of our party,
75
'BROTHER BOSCH'
who had not actually entered the French-
man's room, were let off with a caution, and
that all the rest were each fined five hundred
marks, or fifty days in a fortress. This
showed how they wanted our money; of
course the whole thing had been arranged
beforehand. On inquiring what the money
would go to support we were told that it
would probably be the war loan. A few
minutes later, after leaving in a rebellious
mood, we were lucky enough to meet the
two Frenchmen, from whom we learnt that
they too had spent the night in cells in the
same prison. Later on I was given to under-
stand that before a subsequent court-martial
two British officers spent the night on a sort
of mattress in a corner of the guardroom.
The return journey was accomplished
without incident, except for an attempt on
our part to speak to a captured guardsman,
who was loading trucks, which was promptly
squashed by Wolfe snapping out ' Das
geht nicht." Nevertheless, a tin or two of
food found its way out of the window.
The weather at Clausthal, after a brief
interval of snowstorms, became beautifully
warm, and the prospect of spending the
summer in the Hartz Mountains was almost
alluring. About this time General Friedrichs
(in charge of prisoners of war) made a speech
in the Reichstag, in the course of which he
COURT-MARTIALLED!
stated that the English treated their prisoners
better than any other nation (or so the trans-
lation read), and went on to say that in
return English prisoners must receive good
treatment, so that at the conclusion of hostili-
ties they would take back good remembrances
of Germany to their own country. In my
case things certainly did change (I expect as
a result of the speech) for the worse. A week
later thirty-five officers, including myself,
were sent to Strohen, a camp which will
certainly be remembered long after peace is
declared, but I doubt if the memory will be a
pleasant one.
77
CHAPTER VIII
STROHEN
PREVIOUS to our departure Wolfe personally
searched our belongings. Although a long
journey lay in front of us, he only allowed
each individual to carry two small tins of
food. In reply to our protests he said that,
as things were always well arranged in
Germany, our luggage would therefore arrive
at the same time as ourselves. This was, of
course, absolutely untrue, but we had to
submit. During the great search Wolfe,
seeing that I was wearing a belt made of
plaited string (Yes, Mr. Wolfe, the belt in
question was made of blind cord cut from
the kurhaus windows !), and noting that it
was something unusual, ordered me to leave
it behind. Taking it off, I politely handed it
to him, and expressed my hope that he would
keep it as a souvenir ! With a charming
smile he replied, ' Three days stuben arrest,"
which I acknowledged with a bow.
Outside the camp, on our way to the
station we looked back and saw the roll call
STROHEN
was in progress. Thereupon we gave three
cheers for the many friends we were leaving
behind us, in spite of the fact that Wolfe and
the commandant were on parade. We
travelled second class and at one station were
even allowed to buy beer ; our guards were
quite reasonable, and things in general went
off pleasantly. We stayed some time at an
out-of-the-way station east of Osnabriick,
where quite a crowd of children collected.
They scrambled excitedly for the sweets and
cigarettes which we threw them. Arriving
at a little station called Strohen, which seemed
to be on a large moor, we got out and started
for the camp, the German officer bringing
up the rear in a victoria. After ten minutes'
walking down a lonely road we made out a
group of low wooden huts surrounded by
high arc lamps and wire, on a desolate
moorland. Surely this could not be our
destination, the good camp we had been led to
expect.
But after inquiring our guards told us it
was, although they were nearly as much sur-
prised at its appearance as we were. At all
events we were determined to hide our
feelings and look cheery. Quickening our
pace we approached the camp singing the
almost forgotten song, Tipperary," were
marched through the gates, and halted in
front of a small group of German officers, in
79
. .
BROTHER BOSCH
the centre of the camp. We at once dis-
tinguished the commandant, a major, with
a first class iron cross hanging from his
collar. He was rather short and stout with
a square face ; his grey whiskers terminated
in a small double-pointed beard; this com-
pleted his ( Hunnish ' appearance ! With
his hands behind his back he welcomed us
with a sullen stare, all the while puffing
stolidly at his cigar. Had the Huns re-
hearsed this scene for a week they could not
have given us a more heathen reception. No
one even made a show at politeness by a nod
or a salute. A stout and ugly sergeant-major
(named Muller), wearing a gaudy blue and
red uniform and sword, bawled at us to
dress by the right, as if he were addressing a
squad of recruits. He very nearly exploded
when we ignored his insolent words of com-
mand. A rather common little interpreter
commenced calling the roll, beginning with a
captain, but only shouting his surname, to
which there was no response. When his
voice gradually rose to a shriek the English-
man stepped out and said, ' I suppose you
mean Captain so-and-so." The interpreter
explained matters to the commandant, who
must have realised that they were in the
wrong, for in future we were addressed by our
proper rank. (Victory No. i.) We were
each given a disc, on which was stamped our
80
STROHEN
gamp number (mine is now residing at home) ,
and shown into our rooms. Late that night
about two hundred fellows arrived from
Crefeld, and Muller, finding he could not
intimidate them, made such a noise that he
was ' choked off ' by the commandant.
We learnt that this place had been built as
a Russian reprisal camp, but that lately
Roumanian officers had been confined there.
We were the first British these people had
ever had to deal with. Hence their very bad
manners !
Now in a camp of this sort it is very neces-
sary to stand up for one's rights when treated
unfairly, otherwise the Germans soon forget
that you have any rights ; at the same time,
if the treatment is fair, one does one's best
to avoid friction. The best instance of a
result of the former treatment occurred the
next afternoon. When some of the Crefeld
party, who had been allowed to bring pro-
visions with them, found that it was not
possible to obtain hot water for making tea,
some inventive person at once started a little
fire of sticks outside my room. Almost
immediately a N.C.O. leading half a dozen
armed men appeared on the scene and told
the offender in a dreadful voice to put the
fire out at once. Instead of complying the
culprit dodged into a barrack and out of a
window on the opposite side and disappeared.
B.B. G
'BROTHER BOSCH'
When the Huns were able to comprehend the
audacity of this move they had to put the
fire out themselves. Half an hour later a
sentry, seeing three fires burning in the same
place, strolled over and quietly informed those
concerned that fires were not allowed, and
that unless they were put out he would have
to make a report to the commandant. The
result was that they were at once extin-
guished with the aid of sand. Our baggage
did not arrive for nearly a week ; then, instead
of being given out, it was locked up for
another five days before we received it all.
During this time we had to live on the German
food as best we could.
ACCOMMODATION. Our quarters consisted
of three long and two smaller badly made
huts, divided into rooms containing, mostly,
two or six officers. The mattresses were
mostly dirty and hard, being stuffed with
paper and cardboard, which formed sharp
edges and lumps. The first week about ten
of us found ' creepy crawlies," and shortly
before our departure I succeeded in attracting
some while in the camp hospital ! The Huns
provided us with the German equivalent for
' Keating's' after much agitation, after
making us pay for it. The doctor said that
the newly captured prisoners must have
brought the creatures into the camp. That
may have been true in a few cases, but even
82
STROHEN
so they are to blame for not making adequate
arrangements to prevent it. We each re-
ceived a tin basin, but the washing was all
done at three pumps outside. All the drinking
water was derived from this source, and had a
strong and disagreeable taste. A few feet
away from each pump was a stagnant pool
into which the waste water flowed. I think
it is reasonable to suppose that a good pro-
portion of it, after filtering through the sand,
was pumped up again. In spite of these
trifles we were told that the water had been
analysed and passed by the medical autho-
rities. I suppose both the colour and flavour
were only due to the presence of iron, in
which case I have no doubt it was an ex-
cellent tonic. I should have liked to have
seen the doctor's face had he been made to
swallow a glassful. I am thinking of form-
ing a company for the purpose of build-
ing a hydro on the site of the old camp, so
that every one may have an opportunity of
enjoying perfect health by taking the Strohen
waters. I hope the reader will assist me by
buying shares in this excellent concern.
(A large cemetery will, of course, be neces-
sary, but grave-digging should not prove to
be expensive, the soil being very light !)
The safest and most comfortable place in
the camp was the small hospital, which was
under the care of a very decent corporal in a
83
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Brandenburg regiment. The dining and
common rooms were in one long barrack,
divided into two sections. At one end of the
latter was a canteen of sorts, which ulti-
mately improved considerably. The sanitary
arrangements were most primitive, the
breezes constantly reminding one of their
inefficiency. For the first month the weather
was glorious, and during the evening stroll
round it was maddening to watch the red
sun slowly sinking behind the distant woods
to the westward, showing us the way to
Holland and freedom. The journey by train
would have been accomplished in a few hours
under ordinary circumstances. It was almost
incredible to think, though it was only too
true, that a few strands of wire and some
grey-clad sentries could keep us confined in
this desert-like camp, containing neither
grass nor trees, isolated from all the pleasures
of summer. Whenever there was a wind we
enjoyed a whirling sandstorm. Often I have
seen it so thick as to temporarily obscure the
further camp buildings. If we had only been
allowed camels and facilities for exercising,
we should soon have looked upon a journey
across the Sahara as mere child's play. After
a victory (real or imaginary), or an anniver-
sary, it was with very rebellious feelings that
we watched the German flag fluttering in
the breezes. I did not mind the coloured one
STROHEN
quite so much, but it was almost more than
I could stand to see the pale yellow flag,
framing the treacherous scraggy black eagle,
flying over my head. In one part of the camp
there was just room for a game of tennis.
Several classes were formed for learning
languages, and indulging in " physical jerks '
(culture), though I'm sorry to say I much
preferred watching and jeering with the ever
increasing majority.
Occasionally sports days were organised,
which went off in style, the chief items being
short races, jumping, cock-fighting, also a
competition which necessitated each indi-
vidual eating a sticky bun dangling from a
tightly stretched string without using his
hands. This may not sound much of a feat,
but when one realises that the bun consists
of a chunk of stale black bread exuding
coarse treacle, the difficulty will be better
understood. Several canaries had been
brought along from the former camp. In
one instance a man in the Flying Corps,
possessing a sitting bird, carried her so care-
fully that she never left the eggs and even-
tually reared her young at Strohen.
Latterly chip carving became the fashion,
as it was then possible to obtain the necessary
articles from a German firm through the
canteen. Concerts were frequently held,
and as the camp contained very considerable
85
'BROTHER BOSCH'
talent, we had some really first class per-
formances, after being allowed to hire a
piano from the nearest town. One day a new
lot of orderlies arrived and took up their
quarters in a barrack separated from our
part of the camp by some wire. Among
their number was a private called Cheeseman,
a born comedian, who used to get up sing-
songs and sketches ; the star turn, however,
was a selection from his orchestra, which he
used to conduct with a broomstick from
an inverted bucket. The instruments were
two mandolines, one banjo, one mandola, a
tin whistle, an accordion, a rattle, a comb,
and a lump of iron. Somehow the performers
played in tune, but they always sent us into
fits of laughter, and even amused the watch-
ing Huns. Although Cheeseman often dis-
appeared into cells for several days, he was
never really squashed and always reappeared
with a new joke. I was lucky enough to
receive a good assortment of flower seeds
from home, including sunflowers, sweet
peas, nasturtiums, etc. ; these I immedi-
ately planted in a tiny museum-like gar-
den, and tended carefully, in the hope that
some day the plants would assume large
enough proportions to enable me to believe
temporarily on special occasions that I was
actually amid the flowers of good old England.
In my case the deception was fortunately
86
STROHEN
not necessary, as I was destined to enjoy
the real thing, though unfortunately in hos-
pital.
TREATMENT. The first roll calls, though
unnecessarily long, were quite entertaining.
They were conducted by a guards lieutenant
with a pronounced limp, who went by the
name of " Cork- leg." Even when speaking of
a matter of no importance his voice would
become louder and louder until it threatened
to reach a shrill scream. On one occasion
when the interpreter was not present, some
unoffending person asked the Hun a question
in English. Cork-leg replied, with a dreadful
roar, that we must understand that the
language of the camp was German, and
German only. Things were going a little too
far, so every time the gentleman gave expres-
sion to his thoughts in too vehement a manner
most of us whispered a long-drawn " Hush."
The parade being in square formation, when
he turned suddenly to arrest the offender, he
found those facing him wearing an air of
injured innocence, while those in his rear
continued the good work. This had the
desired effect, and although it meant " stuben
arrest ' for several fellows, the officer soon
realised what an ass he was making of himself
and became almost normal, with the result
that things went smoothly for a while.
Soon after our arrival, a fortnight, to be
'BROTHER BOSCH 1
correct, the newly captured infantry officers,
numbering about fifty, were ordered to give
up their steel helmets at a given roll call.
This naturally went against the grain. The
owners mostly destroyed the rubber padding
and hid the helmets, resolving that at least
they should not benefit the Hun. At the
appointed time eight instead of fifty were
surrendered to the officer on duty. On the
morning of the twelfth of June a number of
German soldiers set to work with poles and
hooks to drag the pools for submerged hel-
mets. By and by they succeeded in picking
out quite a number of those steel fish, every
additional one landed calling forth a subdued
cheer from the onlookers. In the afternoon,
having nothing to do but kill time, I strolled
out of a barrack, my hands in my pockets,
with no immediate objective in view. Out-
side a few Germans were still fishing for
helmets, while half a dozen Britishers were
lazily watching operations. After joining
them for a minute or two I turned to walk
over to another building. True, there were
some sentries with fixed bayonets lounging
about, but that was nothing unusual, for
they might well be in charge of the orderlies
who were working near by. I had not gone
ten yards when a tall, unshaven Land-
sturmer swung round and barred my way.
He told me with a snarl that I was not
88
STROHEN
allowed there and motioned me back with
his hand. I told him that I was not aware
of any new order and only wished to go to
the neighbouring building. Whereupon he
repeated his words in a still more offensive
tone, and brought his rifle to the ready.
(Even a German sentry is supposed to be
reasonably polite when addressing an officer
prisoner for the first time, but this man was
purposely rude.) I replied that if he ad-
dressed me as a British officer and not as a
dog I should obey him at once, otherwise I
should remain where I was. After a few
more unintelligible threats he advanced,
brandishing his weapon, at which I turned
sideways to call to a German N.C.O. and
protest against such treatment. The kindly
sentry aimed a smashing blow at my left
foot, which I was luckily able to partially
deflect by a slight movement of my knee.
Things were certainly quite disturbing, for
the next instant he stuck the bayonet
almost through my right thigh. The pro-
ceeding was not particularly pleasant, feeling
very like a sharp burn, but I was almost too
surprised to realise fully what had happened,
so consequently remained standing where I
was. Vaguely I realised that the sentry had
withdrawn his bayonet for another thrust,
this time evidently intended to enter my
body. Glancing down I saw that mv trouser
BROTHER BOSCH
> *
leg was saturated and streaming with blood,
which was even welling out of my shoe
on to the ground, showing that an artery
had been severed. Not being particularly
partial to bayonet thrusts, I decided that I
could now abandon my argument without
loss of prestige. I succeeded in hobbling
a few yards to the rear, at the same time
holding the artery above the wound in
an endeavour to check the flow of blood.
This, however, did not prove very success-
ful, the sand continuing to turn red be-
hind me. Just as I was in the act of falling,
a number of our fellows, seeing what had
happened, rushed up and carried me hastily
into the camp hospital, where a tourniquet
was applied and the doctor sent for. The
time was then a quarter-past three, and the
doctor did not arrive till after seven o'clock.
I rather fancy if an accident of that sort had
occurred in an English prison camp con-
taining over four hundred German officers,
it would not be necessary to wait almost
four hours before the arrival of a qualified
doctor.
At the best of times a very tight tourniquet
is distinctly uncomfortable. The medical
orderly thinking that I should lose con-
sciousness and seeing the commandant enter
the room, explained the circumstances and
asked if he might give me a little brandy.
90
STROHEN
After due consideration and much chewing
at the ragged end of his eternal cigar, he
replied that as water would be given to a
wounded German soldier, it was good enough
for me. Though I pretended not to hear,
these remarks impressed me considerably.
The N.C.O. looked after me very well, and
early next morning took me to the station in
an ambulance on my way to Hanover
Hospital. Two private soldiers acted as
stretcher-bearers, with the N.C.O. in charge.
When the train arrived it was found that the
stretcher was too broad to go into a carriage,
so I travelled in the luggage van, among
trunks, bicycles and baskets of fish. The
Germans were quite jolly and sang a few
songs, while I, in a half dead condition,
endeavoured to accompany them on my
beloved mandoline. At Hanover I was
dumped down at a Red Cross centre below
the station to await the ambulance. Soon
quite a pretty nurse (for a wonder) came up
and inquired if I was English. I could not
resist replying in German : Yes, sister, I
am one of those Schweinhund Englanders ! '
To my surprise she seemed quite embarrassed,
and hastily answered me that they did not
say that now. (Emphasis on the now.) In
the conveyance I lay beside a wounded
German private, also bound for hospital.
When my curiosity had broken the ice, he
'BROTHER BOSCH'
told me that he had just returned from the
Messines Ridge, where he had acquired a
great respect for British artillery and mines
(though he himself was a sapper). The
Hanover hospitals which usually take in
prisoners are Nos. i and 7 ; to my relief I
was taken to No. i, which is recognised as
the best. I received practically the same
treatment as the German patients, and
occupied a room with three other British
officers. Some of the food we received was
quite good, a little fresh milk and butter,
and one or two whitish rolls of bread, and, of
course, the usual doubtful soups. Imme-
diately outside the window was a large
flowering acacia tree, looking delightfully
shady and cool after Strohen desert. Another
luxury we sometimes enjoyed was straw-
berries, which the German orderly bought in
large quantities, afterwards selling them to
some of the doctors and nurses as well as
ourselves. At frequent intervals a band
outside played a very ordinary uninteresting
dead march, announcing each time a German
(usually a patient) had gone ' West." Soon
after my arrival I saw a Zeppelin flying very
low over the town. I was delighted and
remarked to a Bosch that it was the first
Zeppelin I had ever seen. He was quite
indignant and told me that I ought to know
that it was a Schutte-Lanz, a new type of
92
STROHEN
airship. My education must have been
sadly neglected !
Bayonet wounds are, for several reasons,
liable to become septic ; mine, however,
healed up remarkably quickly, saving me
endless bother. In a fortnight I started back
to the camp, accompanied by a N.C.O. and a
private, who helped me slowly along. We
went by train, without causing much interest.
This was a good thing, for it is very hard to
look dignified when feeling like nothing on
earth, and looking as white as a sheet. Many
of the small boys were dressed up as soldiers
in one way or another, and I twice saw a
small ragamuffin band with tins for kettle-
drums. Just wouldn't there be a fine scrap
if a similar band of London children had
suddenly rounded the corner ! Personally, I
would back the cockney spirit against any
other. This was my second visit to Hanover,
and on no occasion had I seen a motor other
than the one ambulance car, though I heard
two in the distance. Owing to the scarcity
of rubber I was surprised at the number of
bicycles present in the streets, but closer
inspection proved that that difficulty had been
overcome by a clever invention, by which
the shock is lessened by an outer wooden
rim held in position by strong springs,
which are compressed as they take the
weight. During the train journey my escort,
93
'BROTHER BOSCH 1
as usual, drew my attention to the splendid
way in which the Germans treated their
prisoners by allowing them to travel second
class. They simply would not believe that
German officers in England always travelled
first. The private, who owned a cigar factory
in Hanover, became quite chatty and seemed
very anxious to know if I thought the trade
relationships between England and Germany
would be the same as ever after the war.
He was very surprised and, indeed, quite
distressed when I told him that I thought
there would be a considerable change it
seemed that the idea had never occurred to
him before.
I was not sorry when the camp was
reached and I entered the little camp hospital
to remain there for another two weeks.
Several fellows having escaped from the
camp temporarily, the commandant got the
sack. Many speculations concerning his
probable successor were indulged in, and I
think the general opinion of the camp was
that the newcomer might be better, though
he could not be worse. We soon discovered
our mistake. His first appearance was not
exactly promising. Two fellows while walking
round the camp suddenly heard a stream of
abuse violently directed at them, and looking
up, they saw the commandant coming towards
them through a gate in the wire, fairly
94
STROHEN
.bursting with rage. His unreasonable com-
plaint was that he had not been saluted
while entering his office outside the wire !
The offenders were at once packed off to
cells for two or three days. The next day a
few Britishers arrived from another camp,
and while they were waiting outside to be
admitted, a small and orderly crowd collected
on the inside to see if they could recognise
any one, or exchange a few remarks. Being
unable to walk much I watched the pro-
ceedings from the window of my room and
was able to see everything that took place.
Without any warning the mad commandant
rushed out of a building and up to the wire,
where he screamed at the little gathering
like a madman, making violent motions to
show that they were to go back. It is per-
fectly legitimate to stand in a group as long
as every one behaves and no one touches the
neutral zone wire. One must stand some-
where. In this case he had absolutely no
right to order a move. The interpreter, who
happened to be near, walked up and said
that the commandant desired us to go away,
whereupon the officers began to disperse,
wishing to humour him. I was startled to
see two soldiers come through the gate with
fixed bayonets in a quick business-like way,
to drive the fellows back faster, evidently by
the commandant's express orders. The
95
'BROTHER BOSCH'
younger of the two guards went straight up
to an unoffending medical student, a Lieu-
tenant Downes (S. Staffs.), who was then
turning round, and pricked him in the
stomach with his bayonet. To prevent the
steady pressure making the slight wound
worse, Downes seized the end of the rifle and,
jerking the point out, swung it to the right,
and then turning round walked quickly back.
The sentry, after running past several other
officers, overtook him and, to my horror,
stuck the bayonet into his back. After con-
tinuing his walk for a few steps Downes
collapsed and was at once carried into
hospital, the next day being taken to Hanover.
The wound was very serious, however; we
received a message from the hospital a few
days later stating that the bayonet had
penetrated into one lung, but that he was
getting on well and would probably soon
recover.
The same sentry, in his eagerness to obey
orders, tried to bayonet a Captain Wood-
house, but as his prey jumped back just in
time, only succeeded in cutting the skin.
By this time a large crowd had collected,
which the sentries continued slowly forcing
back, although they were then fifty yards
from the wire. As the news spread the crowd
became larger, but remained ominously
quiet, the two Germans not seeming to
STROHEN
realise the danger of their position. It is the
worst feeling I know to watch a cowardly
display of this sort and yet be able to do
absolutely nothing. It only needed a spark
to set everything in a blaze, which must
have ended in the guard being turned out
for machine-gun practice. Meanwhile, the
news reached some Britishers who were half-
way through a concert. By mutual consent
it was at once broken up by the singing of
the National Anthem. Every one outside at
once stood to attention and heartily joined in
the last few bars. It was the most impressive
scene one could possibly imagine. I am suref
that no one who had witnessed it would in
after years, without feeling murder in his
heart, watch a man belonging to the mongrel
breed, which is not infrequently seen sitting
down while everybody else is standing for
the National Anthem, only being forced
grudgingly to his feet by public opinion, even
then not removing his hat unless it is knocked,
off. I am convinced that if Ramsay Mac-
donald and a few of his colleagues could have -
spent a week in a bad German prison camp
they would be only too willing to instruct
their misguided followers in singing " God
Save the King," in the spirit and way in
which it should be and was sua- at Strohen.
on July 1 5th, 1917. The situation was
saved.
B.B.
'BROTHER BOSCH J
Our senior officer took advantage of the
pause at the end while we were still under
control, standing at attention, and told us
to separate at once, as he would do every-
thing that was possible. At this Israel
departed every man to his own tent. The
major asked for an immediate interview with
the commandant, but the German captain
who had entered replied that that was
unfortunately impossible as that officer had
gone out at lunch time and would not return
till late. It was a most " kolossal " lie, but
I do not think that the captain should be
saddled with it, as he was, doubtless, acting
under instructions. Most of those present,
including myself, would have sworn on oath
that we had seen the commandant a few
minutes before and that he had caused all
the trouble. But then what is one to do ?
Of course the usual complaints went (or
rather were supposed to go) to higher autho-
rity (ambassadors and the like), but no
satisfaction was obtained. It seems not
unlikely that they all found their way into
the office waste-paper basket by the most
direct route.
Again, a few days later about a dozen
fellows were watching a party of Germans,
under a Feldwebel Pohlman, digging up an
old tunnel which had fallen in near the
wire. Everything was quiet and Pohlman
STROHEN
was even talking naturally with one of our
number, when I noticed him turn and speak
a few words to the sergeant of the guard,
who turned and entered the guardroom,
evidently in a hurry. Knowing that this
Pohlman, in spite of his oily manner and
smug appearance, was a Hun in every sense
of the word, I kept my weather eye open,
warned the others and strolled off. A few
seconds later four of the worst sentries in the
place, having entered the camp unobserved,
came running round the corner of a shed,
their bayonets drawn back for thrusting,
obviously having received orders that the
next victim had to be finished off, the object,
I suppose, being either to teach us a lesson
or cause a mutiny. Some one shouted a
warning to three fellows who were standing
talking to each other unconscious of their
danger, but before they had time to realise
their predicament the sentries were on them.
The Huns singled out a Captain Wilson
(R.F.C.), and before he could get away,
surrounded him, while one villainous-looking
little Hun lunged srtaight at him. By a
quick movement Wilson avoided the thrust
and succeeded in breaking away, the bayonet
passing through his clothes. The guard con-
tinued to press every one back into the centre
of the camp, very serious trouble again only
just being avoided.
99
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Another incident of this sort happened a
few days later, when to our surprise some
strong sherry arrived at the canteen, and
was soon bought up by the thirsty prisoners.
I think there was another object in view,
as well as a desire to make money. Towards
evening some Englishmen were sitting near
the wire, close to where the sentry who had
assaulted Downes was stationed. One of the
fellows, feeling a little cheerful, amused him-
self by alluding to the bravery of the act.
At the worst this was only a case calling for
a little solitary confinement. I suppose the
sentry passed the word along to the guard-
room, for soon three sentries passed through
the camp, metaphorically whetting their
bayonets, going towards the scene of the
disturbance. Before reaching it they un-
slung their rifles and fixed their bayonets,
doubled round the corner of the building,
expecting to surprise the unfortunate
Englander. But to their disgust they only
found empty chairs and returned very
dejected.
After this episode we had a dance in the
dining-room, several fellows making up into
the most charming girls, and did our best to
forget our unpleasant surroundings. At ten
o'clock, when we had gone to our barracks,
according to the rules, Pohlman conducted
an armed party of half a dozen Huns with
100
S T R O H E N
fixed bayonets round the huts and every
part of the camp, but failed to find the
excuse he was longing for. Now what about
the Cambrai officer's question, Why do
you call us Huns ? ' Why, indeed ?
The German captain nearly always took
roll call. Though fairly harmless, he was
quite mad. He seldom brought an inter-
preter on parade and made long speeches
and read orders to us, all in German, the
great majority, of course, not understanding
a single word ! One day we heard the new
commandant was coming on parade for the
first time that evening, so therefore looked
forward to some fun. When the time for the
roll call arrived we were inspected as usual,
and were standing waiting, when the little
captain suddenly drew himself up to his
full height, and screamed out : ' Augen
Rechts Augen Links Gerade Aus." As
we were standing in three sides of a square it
was an order to make every one face the com-
mandant with a martial air. The net result
of this "Double Dutch" was that everyone
broke into an amused smile, which increased
almost to hysterics when we caught sight of
the recipient of this honour. The com-
mandant was a tall, doddery, antediluvian
Prussian colonel, with long grey moustaches,
the very image of the Monkey Brand adver-
tisement, only perhaps not quite so good
101
"BROTHER BOSCH'
looking. Why he did not fall over his trailing
scabbard in every step remains a mystery to
this day.
There was another curious little trick the
captain sometimes indulged in. In the
middle of delivering a tirade he would
suddenly point to heaven with a dramatic
gesture, as if to prove the truth of a recent
statement by invoking the Kaiser's God.
Perhaps some day he will learn that the
popular spirit of Germany lives not above but
very far below.
Soon after our arrival the prison was
enlarged, as it always has to be when the
camp becomes British. Fellows were often
sent there for an offence about which they
had never heard, without being able to say
one word in self defence. In about two months
I believe nearly half the camp had been in
" clink." Until latterly it was forbidden to
open windows at night, but being English
we took the law into our own hands and
continued opening the windows, refusing to
be deprived of fresh air in the stifling heat.
This naturally resulted in more prison, which
at first relieved and then increased the
monotony. Though it is hardly credible,
our colonel had to carry out a sentence of
three days " stuben arrest ' for losing his
poker ! About this time an Australian was
put into prison for a trivial offence which
102
STROHEN
had been committed by some one else, and
did not even receive his sentence for three
whole weeks !
While in " jug " in this camp we were not
allowed parcels, writing materials, books or
smokes. We complained about this to a
general who inspected the camp later; he
expressed surprise at this state of affairs and
had things partially rectified. For about two-
months all cigars and cigarettes received in
parcels were stopped, the only reason
given being that in some cases they had
contained poison for destroying cattle. Not
only were chances of destroying cattle
exceedingly small, but we offered to smoke
any cigarette they chose to give us from our
parcels to prove the falsity of the charge.
By an agreement between the Govern-
ments those serving terms of imprisonment
for offences committed before the 4th of
August, 1917, were released, a great number
of the gaolbirds being sent to Strohen.
Residing in prison was a captain who made
a hobby of being court-martialled. Under
this new ruling he was taken out of cells for
a few days, only to be put back to await trial
for the trumped-up charge of having poison
tablets on his person when recaptured after
his last escape. I believe the only tablets he
carried were either for purifying water, or
Horlick's malted milk. Every one recap-
103
'BROTHER BOSCH'
tured when trying to escape in the late winter
of 1916 or the following spring received a
sentence of five months' imprisonment, a
fortnight the original punishment, and the
remainder as a supposed reprisal for the
sentence given to escaping Germans in
England.
The food given us was very bad indeed,
though the list must have looked quite nice
on paper. Apart from the eternal and loath-
some gherkins, of which no mention was
made, it asserted that we received fish twice
a week ! The Tuesday fish was of a dried
variety, and had such a delicious smell when
cooked that it was impossible to enter the
dining-room when it was on the prowl !
While that on Friday consisted of heaps of
old mussels containing quantities of sand
and young pebbles, known amongst our-
selves as those barnacles, scraped
from the ships at Kiel. The whole time
I was there I never once had an oppor-
tunity of buying any fresh fruit, though it
was summer time and we could have paid
good prices. The only result of my bayonet-
ing episode was that the sentry was con-
gratulated, and I was warned for a court-
martial ! When a staff captain arrived from
Hanover to collect the evidence for the
approaching trials, quite a cheery little
crowd of accused officers were awaiting him.
104
S T R O H E N
Several of them were to appear on two or
three charges, and three R.F.G. officers were
to be tried for dropping leaflets in the
German lines. I believe it came to nothing
in the end, as there was not enough evidence
to convict them. Captain Scholtz and
Lieutenant Wookey do not seem to have
been so lucky. When my turn came, several
German witnesses were produced who swore
that after being struck on the foot with the
butt, I had jumped forward to seize the rifle,
asserting that the sentry had only acted in
self-defence. (Such a truthful race !) When
the captain was taking down my statement,
we frequently got off the subject altogether.
All of a sudden he would assert that the
English had started the war and ask me the
reason for their doing so. Thoroughly roused,
I would reply that it was nonsense and he
must know it. Then ensued an amusing but
fiery argument about the neutrality of
Belgium, the use of native troops, and
frightfulness in general. His plea was that
poor little unoffending Germany was only
standing up for herself against a set of blood-
thirsty enemies who wished to crush her.
Needless to say, I did not feel much like
sympathising. When we finally got back to
business, all particulars were taken as a
matter of form, my slaughterer's name and
address being taken down. Before my
105
'BROTHER BOSCH'
departure I managed to get a glimpse of it
when the captain was out of the room. I do
not suffer from loss of memory !
The all-absorbing problem of camp life is
escaping. Up to this time half a dozen
fellows had succeeded in getting away from
the camp, but were afterwards recaptured.
I will endeavour to give an outline of the
several attempts and the difficulties to be
overcome, which must of necessity be very
curtailed, this book not being originally
written for the benefit of the " Bosch." The
most usual way is to cut the wire, but where
sentries are numerous the undertaking is both
difficult and dangerous. It is most natural to*
try stunts of the sort under cover of darkness.
At this camp, however, the paraffin arc
lamps were particularly brilliant, and when
star-gazing on several occasions I have seen
rats and mice scuttle across the white sand
some distance away. Though storms often
raged during the day, the wind almost
invariably blew itself out towards night,
leaving a dead calm, broken only by the
tramp of sentries or the distant rattling hum
of a nightjar. It is a brave man who, having
determined this mode of exit, leaves his hut
when others are sleeping, and vanishes.
Presently, if he gets safely across the inter-
vening ground, the faint yet feverish snipping
of wire-cutters is heard, each time being
106
STROHEN
followed perhaps by a slight ' ' ping ' ' as the
strained wire separates. The ensuing silence
is almost heart-breaking, for in contrast
something else may at any instant be in-
creasing its tension, a sentry's trigger-finger.
One stormy night, when in hospital, I had
reason to believe that an officer would make
an attempt in that part of the camp at a
given hour, so had an excellent chance of
watching operations, which was not wasted.
I went to the window and settled down for a
long wait. Outside it was still raining, the
sentries being in their boxes. A little before
the time I caught sight of a dark figure
which clambered out of the orderlies' hut and
crawled into the neutral zone up to the
outside wire, which he lay parallel to and
commenced to cut. To my surprise, another
figure joined him from the hut and lay there
waiting ; this was an orderly who had
decided to join at the last instant. In about
one and a half minutes a large enough gap
had been cut, and the adventurers crawled
through it, and were preparing to make a
dash into the darkness when a sentry spotted
them and stepped out of his box. Having
burned their boats, off they went. The
sentry ran a few steps, then, stopping
abruptly, raised his rifle and fired. It was
an anxious moment for the onlookers ; the
fugitives already knew the result, while, as
107
'BROTHER BOSCH'
yet, we did not. However, to our relief, the
ghost-like figures continued their flight until
they were swallowed up in the darkness, and
the reflection of the artificial light on their
wet rain-coats became too weak to give away
their position. In their anxiety to leave the
camp behind they tended to separate, but
both fell headlong into a deep ditch, where
they met again. In their first dash one of
them dropped most of the provisions, which
the Germans discovered and brought back
to the camp in triumph. Six days afterwards
they were recaptured, thirty kilometres from
the border. Two officers cut the wire in
broad daylight, when the nearest sentry was
busy opening a gate admitting some orderlies.
They left the camp by way of a ditch without
being seen, crawling as they had never
crawled before, their heads showing above
the level of the fields, like two wobbling
cabbages going for a hurried evening stroll.
Their success was short-lived, for, only an
hour afterwards, they were spotted and
chased by some farmers, being finally brought
to a stop by a man with a shot-gun. Another
couple left the camp by the following ingenious
method. A captain, who spoke German like
a native, dressed up in the clothes of a Hun
private (somehow acquired). Some of the
essential things were missing, and had been
manufactured in secret, such as a cap and a
108
STROHEN
painted wooden bayonet, with a lovely
coloured tassel. When everything was
ready, about ten o'clock one morning, a
perfectly good German private marched an
R.F.C. lieutenant, disguised as an orderly,
who carried two buckets (containing their
kit), up to a gate in the wire, which he rattled
to signify that it must be unlocked immedi-
ately. The sentry came along, unlocked the
gate, and let him out. They proceeded to
the road, which they followed for a short
distance. That afternoon, while crossing a
wild bit of country, they had the misfortune
to be recaptured by a shooting party, being
first completely surrounded by the beaters.
Two other officers got out separately in an
ingenious way, the first being recaptured
crossing a bridge over the Ems, quite near
Holland ; the second lost direction, and was
retaken four days after, having got thoroughly
lost. One unlucky person was collared just
outside the wire, dressed as an orderly, and
was taken straight to prison to enjoy a period
of perfect rest !
I worked in several tunnels at different
times, fitted with air pumps and perhaps
even electric light who knows ? Digging
oneself out is, at the best of times, a slow and
difficult proposition, which is almost in-
variably discovered sooner or later. The
humorous side of tunnelling is so pronounced
109
'BROTHER BOSCH'
that, could ' Bairnsfather ' view one such
episode, our bookstalls would shortly be
surrounded by eager crowds, clamouring
for the first edition of ' Fragments from
Germany," depicting mud-bespattered " Old
Bills ' crawling for their very lives down
narrow tunnels, closely pursued by the wily
Hun!
About this time I made my second attempt
to escape, and succeeded in getting outside
the wire for the time being, early one after-
noon during bathing hours, only to discover
that my proposed hiding-place was occupied
by Germans. After sitting solemnly beside
my kit for an hour, expecting discovery every
second, I was lucky enough to return, un-
molested, with a party of bathers. During
this period of anxious waiting I was surprised
to find that the thought of losing my carefully
prepared outfit was considerably more dis-
tressing than the actual prospect of im-
prisonment.
no
CHAPTER IX
" AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN '
WHEN a sufficient number of officers had
collected for baths at a little gate, a sentry
allowed them to pass through it and along
a short, wired path, or bird-cage (as we called
it), and thence into the bathroom. This
room was situated about ten yards outside
the wire, in the middle of a wooden barrack,
running parallel to, and about fifteen yards
away from, the wire. It is subdivided to
form a dressing-room and a place for the
shower baths, every exit being strongly
barred, and a sentry stationed at the door.
After a minute inspection of every nook and
cranny, I found that it was just possible, by
standing upright, to squeeze into an alcove,
about eleven inches deep and a foot wide, in
an angle formed by a wall and the brickwork
of a chimney which projected into the
room.
Though in full view of the door, it was
partially hidden behind an empty stove. I
reasoned that, should a well-made dummy
in
'BROTHER BOSCH'
wall obscure the aperture, it would take a
very observant sentry to detect anything
amiss. As a last resource, even should it
be noticed, it might pass as something to do
with the heating of the adjacent room.
After weighing up the chances of success for
several days, I decided that it was worth
trying. When the measurements had been
taken, behind the Bosch's back, I set to work
to manufacture the false wall.
Most of my friends ridiculed the idea,
calling my pet wall a doll's house and other
insulting names, and bestowing on me much
superfluous sympathy and pity. They ar-
gued that it had not been done before, and
was, therefore, impossible, doing their level
best to stop me embarking on such a mad
enterprise. At first they almost succeeded
in their object, but, knowing that most
ordinary people remain in a camp indefinitely,
working on more orthodox lines, I determined
that I would put it to the test, if only to
prove them wrong, or land myself in prison.
One infantry officer, who had previously been
through a course of camouflage, gave me his
moral support, which counted for a good
deal.
The wall was made of cardboard sewn
tightly on to a light wooden frame, the whole
being made in three sections, which, when
fitted together, reached the height of about
112
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN"
eight feet six inches. The top section was
fitted with a leather hinge, which allowed the
upper half of it to slope back at an angle of
forty-five degrees, so that the hiding-place
should not appear to be hollow. When at
last the doll's house was finished, it defied
all efforts to whiten it, and seemed to have a
rooted objection to being made to resemble
the dirty whitewash of the bath-room. I
tried melting old whitewash (scraped off the
walls) with gum and hot water, but it either
fell off when dry or showed the wet cardboard
plainly through. Chloride of lime proved
equally useless. Only a little white paint
was procurable, but this .was altogether too
smooth and shiny. One day, when the three
sections were drying outside on the sand,
a German feldwebel (sergeant-major com-
monly known as a " fieldwobble ") came
along, and inquired if I was making a model
aeroplane. When I replied that his surmise
was correct, he asked me, with a slow smile,
if I intended flying away when the machine
was completed. The wicked old creature
departed, highly amused at my answer,
Yes, I hope so." Certainly many a true
word is spoken in jest !
After a week's experimenting with useless
colouring mixtures, I was almost in despair,
when the desired effect was produced by
coating the cardboard with a thick cornflour
B.B. I
'BROTHER BOSCH'
paste, finally toning it down with a mixture
of cobwebs and mud.
Though on three separate occasions I had
everything ready for the final test, it was not
before August i6th that conditions were at
last favourable enough to risk my welfare
for the next few weeks. A little before five
o'clock I entered the bath-room, accompanied
by several assistants. Our journey thither
was rather amusing, though the slightest
accident would have meant much ' stuben
arrest." It is not easy to walk naturally
when carrying a young wall out of sight under
one's coat, which is doing its best to give the
show away by shedding bits of plaster which
fall to the ground and leave a trail, reminding
one strongly of a paper chase.
However, the sentries noticed nothing
unusual. As soon as the Hun's back was
turned I slipped the sections together and
squeezed into the alcove, into which I was
securely fastened by a friend, who whispered
that everything looked O.K., and asked me
to be sure and write to him when I got to
England. Whether this was meant or not
I do not know, but at any rate it was just the
encouragement I needed. It was an anxious
moment when everybody left the room with
a final " Good luck," and I heard the sentry
approaching to make sure that nobody had
been left behind. Previously I had deter-
114
-AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
mined not to watch the Hun, as my gaze
might render him more liable to look in my
direction. Now, under the stress of circum-
stances, this seemed a physical impossibility,
and all good resolutions went to the winds.
I glued one eye to the spy-hole and saw a
German standing only a few feet away, with
his back to me, puffing solemnly at a long
pipe, a rifle slung over his shoulder. Almost
immediately, as if in answer to my concen-
trated gaze, he turned and looked straight in
my direction. I promptly shrivelled up to
nothing, and developed acute suspended
animation. I simply dared not breath, and
felt as if my thoughts were becoming audible.
My relief was indescribable when he turned
away, and left in an ordinary manner.
Though one crisis was over, the strain had
been such that it took me several minutes to
' defossilise " and grasp the fact that, some-
where in the dim distance, the chances of
success were increasing.
A few minutes later a N.C.O. came in,
and searched about for soap. As ' he was
pocketing some small bits left behind, my
wall threatened to fall outwards, but I
managed to hold it steady until he went
away. A five-and-a-half hour wait lay in
front of me, and, my prison being dark,
stifling and hot, the time passed intolerably
slowly. After waiting patiently for what I
115
'BROTHER BOSCH'
judged to be anything from half to three-
quarters of an hour, I would glance at my
watch, only to discover that, in reality, four or
five minutes had passed. My primary success
was evidently well known inside the camp,
for most of the fellows taking their evening
stroll cast anxious veiled glances in my
direction, from the wrong side of the wire.
It was with both pleasure and anxiety that
I watched the darkness slowly closing in,
though I felt inclined to disbelieve that
Time and tide wait for no man. " Half-past
ten did eventually arrive, and with it the now
unwelcome time for action. Slowly, and with
infinite caution, I stepped out into the room,
and replaced the wall to give some one else
a chance later on. Most of my kit was in
the stove, and, as there were no fire-irons
about, considerable noise was made lifting
the iron top and extracting the contents with
my fingers. Everything was now squashed
into a sort of pack, and I approached the
window on tip-toe. Within the camp all was
quiet, but there, just outside, passing and
repassing on his beat, often not ten yards
away, was a particularly young and active
German sentry, stepping quietly, with an
elastic tread. He held his rifle in his hands,
and gazed intently into the camp, as if
expecting some shooting practice. When he
reached the end of his short beat, I opened
116
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN
> i
the door with many misgivings, and crept
along a passage to the back of the hut.
Entering the empty wash-room, I saw that
my information had been correct, the win-
dows were not barred. In an adjoining room
several Huns were settling down for the night,
their light showing under the door.
I had almost reached the nearest window
when, with a most appalling crash, I over-
turned an empty bucket in the dark. Listen-
ing an instant, I heard surprised voices and
waited for no further developments, but, coat,
pack and all, jumped through the half-open
window and fell into a ditch below. Strug-
gling up and tripping over another wire, I
landed in another ditch. After leaving this
my way lay beyond the shadow of the hut
across a cultivated patch of moor, planted
with potatoes, which was illuminated by the
arc lamps. I covered this in record time,
everything rattling and seeming to make a
most deafening noise, as though all the devils
in Hell were after me with red-hot pitch-
forks, expecting to hear a bullet whistle by
evefy moment. However, nothing hap-
pened, and when several hundred yards away,
I halted for about ten minutes to listen for
the bugle sounding the alarm. It would
have been some satisfaction to know that the
camp was buzzing like a bee-hive, and all on
my account ! But, owing to the clever way
117
'BROTHER BOSCH'
in which my room mates worked it, my
absence was not noticed, and so this pleasure
was denied me.
I shouldered my heavy pack and started
out over the heather in the direction indicated
by the stars. The greatest obstacles were
the peat bogs, into which I often sank knee-
deep, and had to crawl out. After about
two hours rough walking, I was lying among
the heather resting, when I was startled by
a slight noise like the rattle of a chain.
Looking up quickly as the moon came out
from behind a cloud, I saw a dark shape,
which seemed to move considerably closer
and a little to the left, as I watched. A
general survey of my position was not
reassuring, for, in the light, I could distinctly
see half-a-dozen more dark forms situated
on my front and sides at regular intervals,
mostly in a crouching position. Instantly I
thought that somehow I had been traced by
dogs, and that these were sentries. Knowing
the gentle way in which the inmates of this
camp were treated, I must confess that I was
very scared. I had not even a stick ; besides,
one could wish for a more congenial meeting-
place to accost gentlemen of this sort than a
lonely moor at midnight. Behind me was a
long cutting, filled with dark water, from
which peat had been taken ; into this I
cautiously slid up to my shoulders, and waited
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"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
developments. Nothing happened, and, as
I became colder and colder, I began to think
that, after all, I had been mistaken. Was it
possible that they were only heaps of peat ?
At last I summoned up enough courage to
crawl out and approach one of the mysterious
forms. Still nothing happened, and my
confidence increased considerably. I had
only gone a few yards when I saw that it
was actually only a heap of peat with a large
piece lying near the top which protruded
sideways, this having formed the supposed
sentry's head. Even then I did not feel quite
convinced until I administered a hard kick
and there was no retaliation.
During the night I passed several villages,
and once found myself among a lot of small
apple trees, which I shook violently. Down
tumbled some unripe fruit. It did not take
long to fill my pockets and clear off at full
speed. Towards morning I lost sight of the
camp lights, and, entering a small fir planta-
tion, arranged a good hiding-place and soon
fell asleep. In less than an hour I awoke in
a soaking condition, and sat up with a start,
the only result being that the movement
shook the fir branches over my head, and a
shower-bath ensued. The next day I en-
joyed five thunderstorms ! No sooner had
one passed over than another came up. My
home-made tent, a large sheet of green oil-
119
"BROTHER BOSCH'
silk, smuggled from home, kept off a good
deal of the rain, but, nevertheless, I had a
good opportunity of studying the condition
of a half-drowned rat. In spite of the wet
and the presence of some large wood-ants,
I rather enjoyed the sour apples, the first I
had tasted that summer. Once during the
afternoon a red squirrel came jumping over
the fir needles, and looked up impudently
into my face. The sight of so much ugliness
almost overcame him, but he managed to
scamper off at a good speed. I tried hard to
attract this, my only friend, by pretending
to be Hiawatha, and calling him an
' Adjidaumo," but this only hurried his
retreat.
My food consisted mostly of chocolate and
biscuits, though, for the first three days, I
did not feel at all hungry. Water was very
scarce, but I received more than my share a
few days later. The third night, leaving the
moon behind, I climbed over a barbed wire
fence, and found myself among a lot of large
and boney black-and-white Holstein cattle.
Murmuring soft German words of endear-
ment, I approached the nearest cow in the
hope of obtaining some milk. However,
these good creatures, thinking it a most
unusual milking hour, were not having any,
and showed their disapproval of my conduct
by careering madly round the field, making
120
-AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
a fiendish noise, which caused the author of
the disturbance to take to his heels for fear
of discovery. A little later I changed my
tactics. After stealing several luscious
apples, I presented them to another walking
milk-tank. The creature had a softer heart,
and succumbed to the temptation. Every-
thing went according to plan, for, while she
munched the apple contentedly, I proceeded
to fill a large tin mug several times over. I
tramped for ten nights, and only missed my
milk three times. Another night, passing in
front of a farm-house, I came upon a full
milk-can standing by a gate ; the contents not
only filled my water bottle, but even satisfied
me.
One morning, after an unusually long
march, I flopped down and went to sleep in
an overgrown ditch, surrounded by gorse and
broom. The sun was just rising when I
awoke with the idea that I was lying on a bed
of pins. The idea grew to a firm conviction
when an involuntary movement of mine
considerably increased my discomfort. As
I lay trying to solve the problem in a semi-
conscious condition, the solution ran across
my face ; it seemed to have a great many
legs. As my fingers closed round it I
received another violent pin-prick, but held
on manfully and, with an effort, forced myself
to look at my prey. It was a gigantic angry
121
'BROTHER BOSCH'
wood-ant, which hung on to my finger for all
it was worth. Considering the two things
which terrify me most are ants and centi-
pedes, perhaps the reader will understand my
perturbed state of mind when I found myself
lying beside a large ants' nest, being slowly
devoured by its inhabitants, like a fat green
caterpillar. As if propelled by a rocket I
sprang up, and ran up and down the short
ditch at full speed. When fatigue had
brought me to a stop I was delighted to find
that they had mostly been shaken off out of
my clothes. It was impossible to find a
resting place free from ants, the whole place
was infested with them. In my efforts to
avoid them I climbed to the top of a thick
pine tree, but even there my little friends
were parading along the branches. The
day proved to be so hot and thundery that,
before twelve o'clock, the milk in my bottle
turned solid and had to be eaten like junket.
It was with great satisfaction that I watched
the darkness setting in, for, under its pro-
tection, I was enabled to leave the unholy
spot and continue my nightly travels.
One of the things which had troubled me
considerably when planning my escape was
how to reset my watch should it go wrong.
As it was, the village clocks kept me well
informed by striking the hour with much
vigour. The next day, as I lay hidden at
122
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
the edge of a very young plantation, a party
of labourers with scythes assembled not far
away. After leaving their coats and, pre-
sumably, their provisions behind, they pro-
ceeded to cut the grass along the edge of
the plantation and in a neighbouring field.
As I lay " doggo " I formulated many plans
for stealing their food to replenish my store,
but finally decided that the risk was too
great. Only once did I think that I had
been discovered, for, as I was passing my time
in a wood by carving a souvenir stick, some-
thing burst close beside me, making quite a
commotion and breaking many twigs. Just
before the branches closed I caught sight of
a fluffy white tail. After all it was only a
frightened deer.
Late on the sixth night I was walking fast
along the side of a road which led through a
forest when, stopping an instant to listen,
I heard a low voice shout about forty yards
in front. Then some one approached with a
previously concealed lantern. Instantly I
jumped over the ditch, hoping to get away
under the trees unnoticed. Unfortunately,
I landed on some dry twigs, which crackled
at every step and betrayed my presence.
Remembering the deer incident, I emitted
a loud, coughing bark, such as those animals
make, and crashed through the undergrowth,
making as much noise as possible. To my
123
'BROTHER BOSCH'
relief I saw that the man with the lantern
turned back to his post to rejoin his com-
panion presumably the ruse succeeded.
It was just as well I was not caught here, for
now I have reason to believe that I was close
to an important aerodrome, and that this was
a guard possibly against espionage.
The distance covered was, roughly, a
hundred and sixty miles, and, during the
whole period, only once did I recognise the
name of a small town on a milestone, which
told me I was going in the right direction.
The fact of having no one to talk to for so
many days, combined with the uncertainty
of it all, had the most depressing influence.
While waiting for the long days to pass,
killing countless mosquitoes, I frequently
wondered if the stars could be purposely
leading me in the wrong direction, or if peace
had been declared, and I was on an unneces-
sarily tiring walking tour. As I was ap-
proaching a busy railway, I frequently
heard thuds and crashes, or, if the wind was
steady, a faint roar, which, I afterwards
found, was caused by the continued traffic
and shunting of trucks. This troubled me
quite a lot, for it sounded exactly like an
intermittent bombardment, and not in-
frequently increased in volume, until I am
convinced an old soldier would have sworn
it was a distant barrage. I pictured my
124
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
arrival at the frontier only to learn that
Holland had decided to be in the fashion, and
was therefore running a little war on her
own, on the popular Bolshevik excuse of
upholding the cause of democracy. The
only thing left for me to do would have been
to have turned about and, after many trials
and hardships, succeed in getting into
vSwitzerland, where Fate, with a smile on her
face, would probably have arranged to have
me shot by accident while on my way
through Zurich, during the subsequent riots.
Our ' moutons ' in the meantime, have
been straying badly ; it is, therefore, our
duty to leave dreams to take care of them-
selves, and return to the subject without more
ado. When I had been on the loose for a
week the country became very flat and
sodden water was everywhere. Most of
the roads were banked up to guard against
flood, while all ditches were transformed into
small canals. Trees became scarcer and,
consequently, the daily problem of finding
effectual cover increased in difficulty. Nearly
all the seventh night I followed a tow-path
at the side of an important canal, which led
in a northerly direction. Innumerable mov-
able bridges, traversing the lesser waterways
which flowed into the big canal, had to be
crossed. This procedure was more alarming
than one might suppose, as the frail bridges
125
'BROTHER BOSCH'
shook at the slightest touch, and also adver-
tised my crossing to the inmates of the usual
adjoining lodge by magnifying every little
sound. Most of the way, moored at the
water's edge, were barges laden with peat,
containing all sorts of dogs ; in fact, in several
instances they seemed to be veritable floating
dogs' homes. These creatures barked as if
paid to, and were usually sympathetically
answered by dogs some distance in advance,
thus inadvertently proclaiming the news of
my arrival. Once two men came out of a
cottage twenty yards ahead, and, stopping
in the path, turned round and watched me
approaching. That time I really thought
the game was up. It was absolutely essential
to maintain a bold exterior, despite the fact
that my breathing apparatus almost ceased
to work. Slouching quickly along, I whistled
a bar or two of ' Pupchen." Curiously
enough my presence at that time of night
created no suspicion, for I passed them with-
out being spoken to. Before taking a road
leading to the west, I sat down and dissolved
my last Oxo cube in a mug of cold, greenish
canal water. The meal is prepared as
follows : First suck your middle finger until
it tastes clean, then stir the Oxo until it is
dissolved (this usually takes about half an
hour). Before drinking the concoction it is
necessary to remove, any dead fishes that may
126
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
be floating on the surface, and also make
certain that none of the Oxo is wasted by
remaining underneath the finger nails.
At intervals I was very gratified to see that
the sky, to the north and north-east, was
illuminated by distant searchlights. As
several naval bases lay in that direction, it
is reasonable to suppose that the Huns were
expecting a visit from our airmen. After
following the road for over an hour, I pro-
cured some excellent apples at a wayside
farmhouse, and beat a hasty retreat. As
time wore on and the milk carts began rumb-
ling on their rounds, I quickened my pace and
commenced a desperate search for cover
Leaving the road, I headed across the fields,
and after jumping, or falling into, several
flooded ditches, came to an overgrown marsh.
A few yards from terra firma was a large
sallow bush, growing on a tiny island. After
getting thoroughly wet, I succeeded in crawl-
ing on to this and screening my headquarters
from prying eyes with green rushes. As it
became lighter, I heard occasional voices and
peculiar creakings, the cause of which I
could not interpret, and might well render
my position unsafe. The anxiety was in-
creased when a large, dark shadow loomed
out of the fog and threatened to completely
swallow my little island. All at once the
curling white mist drifted away, and every-
127
'BROTHER BOSCH'
thing was explained in an instant. The
terrifying shadow resolved itself into the great
red-brown sail of a. passing barge. I was
lying close beside the tow-path of a canal.
Just as the sun had risen over the trees and
the mists were beginning to disperse and float
upwards, another noise attracted my atten-
tion, which developed into a deep throbbing
roar. Looking up, I saw three large
" Zepps," flying low, and rolling slightly in
the stiff morning breeze, returning to their
lair after a strenuous night out. As they
passed over the school-children in a neigh-
bouring village cheered excitedly.
Except for the usual mosquito bites and
inability to sleep, the day passed unevent-
fully. When darkness fell and all was quiet
again, I once more saddled up and started out,
this time earnestly hoping, yet fearing, to
reach the river Ems, which had to be swum
whatever happened. About midnight I came
to something concrete at last a long-ex-
pected railway. After a short reconnais-
sance, I crossed this, and made my way over
the fields towards the all-important river,
which flowed parallel to the frontier and
about twenty kilos away from it. Every
few yards I came to a dyke, which always
had to be passed through if the direction
was to be kept. It was an odious experience,
for, no sooner did I emerge dripping from
128
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
one than it was time to enter the next.
About three o'clock, after milking several
cows and swimming a few small canals, I
passed through some open flood-gates, built
in a grass ridge made to keep the water from
encroaching on the low-lying farms, and came
upon a most disheartening sight. Beyond
several hundred yards of dangerous marsh
flowed the river, looking very white in the
deceptive light of early morning. The wave-
lets formed by the steady wind and the
current were making a faint, but disconcert-
ing, noise. Though it was only just possible
to discern the opposite bank, there seemed to
be a similar line of marshy ground between
it and the water's edge. I determined to see
if it was possible to get through the marsh
with any degree of safety, but gave up the
idea when some of the old decayed reeds on
which I was standing suddenly gave way and
let me through into the water up to my
waist. No matter how good a swimmer, a
reedy swamp is more than one can contend
with, therefore I gave up the idea. Crawling
out and walking a little way along the bank,
something loomed up in front of me out of
the darkness, which turned out to be a long
iron bridge. Looking cautiously along it,
I saw a couple of dim lights burning near the
other side. What an easy way over ; how
I should have loved to stroll across ; but it
B.B. K
. <
BROTHER BOSCH
could not be, for a German guard was waiting
there to receive me with open arms. Re-
luctantly I turned away and struck inland,
intending to travel parallel to the river for
some distance and then try my luck at
another place. Shortly afterwards, when
tramping along on the grass at the side of a
road in search of a hiding-place, I heard foot-
steps approaching. At either side of the road
grew a row of young trees, but, unfortunately,
the trunks were not large enough to hide
behind. The conditions were such as to
render discovery inevitable should a hasty
retirement be effected. For several precious
seconds I stood paralysed with indecision,
seeing my danger, yet unable to avoid it ;
meanwhile it seemed that cruel fate was care-
lessly deciding my destiny, weighing freedom
against captivity in a balance, which my in-
decision was slowly causing to turn against
me. For a brief period my brain refused to
work, except vaguely to bring to my notice
a few lines from " Eldorado," which affirm
that there exists a loophole of escape in every
difficult situation. This seemed to affect
my present critical position, though it in
no wise suggested a course of action.
As I looked at the dyke which ran along at
the side of the raised road, calculating that
the noise made by a passage through it would
only lead to detection, I clearly remembered
130
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
an incident in ' Lorna Doone," in which
John Ridd, when a boy, had completely
avoided discovery by his enemy (Carver
Doone) by submerging himself in a stream
and breathing through a straw. Without
waiting to remove the pack, I followed his
example by throwing myself on my face and
crawling backwards on to the tangled reeds,
which parted with a squelch and let me
through into the stagnant water. The dyke
proved to be deeper than I expected. My
feet barely touched the bottom, so that I was
literally clutching a straw to keep myself up.
As the footsteps passed I kept my face and
head under the surface, and trusted to
Providence. When all the sounds died away,
it took me some time struggling with mud,
weeds and water, before I could extricate
myself from that confounded ditch. I do
not make a good water-rat ; I would therefore
suggest to the German authorities that they
should train water spaniels, and not police
dogs, for pursuit of prisoners in the future.
I had only been walking for a little while
when the distant rumble of a milk-cart
reminded me that it was past time to hiber-
nate. Then began the usual desperate search
for cover. It became lighter and lighter,
and, just as the mist was about to rise,. I saw
the faint outline of a clump of trees several
hundred yards away. Plunging through
K 2
'BROTHER BOSCH'
more dykes I arrived at the trees, only to
find that they were growing in a small garden
and orchard which surrounded a large farm-
house. As no one appeared to be stirring,
and the discovery of an immediate hiding-
place was essential, I commenced explora-
tions. The privet hedge surrounding this
oasis proved to be very thin and there were
no convenient little bushes. I had just
borrowed a good supply of apples from mine
host, and had almost decided to seek shelter
in an outhouse as a last resource, when I came
upon a fair-sized heap of sticks, over which a
hop plant sprawled, forming a straggly green
covering. There being no better place, I
decided that the hop would have to serve
as my headquarters for that day. I was
just moving some of the sticks when some-
thing caused me to remember the lateness
of the hour. From a pigsty a few yards
away came expectant squeals. The occu-
pants doubtless imagined that I was arriving
with their breakfast. As I was getting ready
to crawl into the sticks, I caught sight of a
little patch of washing close by, lying spread
on the grass at the corner of a small green
lawn. When the good lady came for her
washing she would, in all probability, dis-
cover me, which would never do, as it would
lead to all kinds of little unpleasantnesses.
In a very short space of time I had moved
132
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
the white handkerchiefs and collars to
another corner of the lawn, not far away,
and returned to the heap. I was beginning
to tunnel into the sticks, when I heard a
man's voice, followed by the clatter of milk
cans. Diving into the small hole already
made, I wriggled for all I was worth towards
the centre, dragging the pack after me. It
sounds quite simple ; all you have to do is to
wriggle ; but, in reality, it is surprisingly
difficult. When I tried to force an entrance
every dead bough in the heap seemed to
break with an ear-splitting crash, while all
the smaller twigs crackled in chorus. The
most peaceable sticks developed sharp spikes,
which stuck into me. Even when I had
removed a particularly objectionable one
barring the way, another would shoot out
and grasp my pack, causing an additional
delay. Eventually, in a scratched and weary
condition, I got under the centre of the heap,
where I lay feeling none too secure. Al-
though I was forced to keep still for fear of
attracting attention, I managed to nibble the
stolen apples and take stock of my surround-
ings. The light shone through the pale
green hop leaves, revealing many hairy
caterpillars, incessantly gorging. Inside the
heap lived innumerable spiders and other
horrors. These believed in making their
presence felt when I did not deign to notice
133
'BROTHER BOSCH'
them. It was a very uncomfortable pro-
cedure, drying slowly in a cold wind. Once,
when the leaves blew on one side, I caught a
glimpse of a pear tree swaying overhead,
and a dark, forbidding sky in the background.
That day I enjoyed two heavy thunder-
storms. At first the leaves kept off most of
the rain, but it soon battered down with such
violence that the former became limp and
hung down, leaving me almost exposed.
Everything became saturated. A steady
stream of water poured off the sticks and ran
down my neck, while the insects eagerly
sought shelter in my clothing. When the
first storm was over, and I lay shivering in
the bright interval, two children came out
of the house and played about in the garden,
running several times round and round my
heap. It was such a strain lying absolutely
still that I almost welcomed the second
thunderstorm, though it completely soaked
everything that the first one had overlooked.
Never in my life have I passed such an
uncomfortable day. But, in the end, dis-
comfort is preferable to actual danger in an
adventure of this sort. At least so I thought
in those days. As it is beyond me to
convey to the reader any adequate idea of
the unwillingness of the minutes to resolve
themselves into hours, I will not attempt the
impossible. Towards evening some one fired
134
"AN OUTLAW ONCE AGAIN'
a shot-gun just beyond the privet hedge.
Naturally the explosion caused me to jump,
but that was nothing to the fright I expe-
rienced when it struck me that it might be a
small boy out rat shooting, as vermin always
run to a conveniently close heap of sticks
for shelter. However, the person did not
come my way, and in any case it is probable
he was only after wild duck, which frequent
most of the dykes. At last, when I could
stand it no longer, I scrambled out into the
dusk, guiltily ignoring the fact that I was
running an unnecessary risk by starting on
the war-path an hour too soon.
135
CHAPTER X
THE EMS
THERE was no one about, so, after enjoying
a good stretch, I pushed through the privet,
jumped a narrow dyke, and started out over
the low-lying fields towards the high grassy
barrier which advertised the approach to the
dreaded river. It was almost dark when I
came to another portion of the winding,
snake-like barrier, which curved out as if to
meet me. Approaching it, I found that a
thick and apparently endless prickly May
hedge grew along the base. Getting through
it proved to be such a painful proceeding that
it seems probable that as soon as the hedge
saw an Englishman coming towards it, it
sharpened its claws and resolved to defend
the way to the frontier to the last thorn.
Of course I may be wrong in my surmise,
but I well remember that, when I began
extracting thorns afterwards, it was like
plucking a pin-cushion. Crawling on hands
and knees up the slippery grassy slope, I soon
arrived at the top and, scrambling to my feet,
136
THE EMS
looked eagerly towards the unknown West.
The grassy barrier rose to an even height of
about thirty feet above the low-lying country.
On one side, the nearer dykes dividing the
fields showed up a dull white in the semi-
darkness ; while on the other, beyond a
narrow fringe of swaying reed-grass, ran the
broad dark river. Although a steady wind
was blowing, it was not quite as strong as on
the previous night, the noise of the ripples
breaking on the shore not being so pro-
nounced. As I had not been dry for several
days, the prospect of a prolonged bathe was
not at all alluring. The longer I looked
towards the opposite bank the more distant
it appeared to be, and the greater became the
width and volume of the river, until it seemed
to be quite impassable. Hesitation meant
failure, so, running down to the water's edge,
I began to undress quickly. All at once it
struck me that it would be foolish to wrap
all my earthly belongings in one bundle, for,
should it come to grief on the way over, I
should have a decidedly cool time of it
after my arrival at the other bank of the
river.
Besides, it would be most undignified to be
compelled to walk up to a German sentry and
address him thus : ; Please, sir, I am suffer-
ing from loss of memory and seem to have
mislaid my clothes ; would you be good
137
'BROTHER BOSCH'
enough to supply me with a few, as fig trees
do not abound in these parts ? '
Therefore, spreading my' sodden water-
proof on the ground, I deposited in it my
tunic, shoes and now half-empty pack.
Stuffing all the vacant space tightly with
grass, I secured the corners by binding them
together with my braces and bits of torn
handkerchief. To complete the operation,
I fastened my souvenir walking-stick (which,
though large and clumsy, was exceedingly
precious) to the bottom of the bundle in order
to improve its floating capacities. Passing
through the thin edging of reed-grass, I
stepped into the shallow water and felt my
feet sink into the deep mud, which gurgled
hungrily and sent little lines of bubbles up
to the surface. In a few strides I was out
of my depth and amid the swirling eddies,
which sought to drag me off down stream.
Fortunately the water was warm and the
bundle floated well. Considering the fact
that I had already been tramping for eight
days on short rations, it is not surprising that
I found swimming against a steady wind to
be very tiring. I kept the bundle well ahead
by giving it a good push every few strokes,
when I overtook it. After swimming for
several minutes, I unconsciously changed
my direction a little, at the same time giving
the bundle another push ahead. At this
138
THE EMS
part the river curved slightly, and the result
was that the wind caught my worldly belong-
ings and whirled them off down stream.
Signalling to the engine-room for full speed
ahead, I dashed off in pursuit, soon over-
taking the runaway bundle. By this time,
being very out of breath, I hung on to it,
and was delighted to find that it would
practically support me. I had been swim-
ming for some little time and it seemed
probable that my objective would not be far
away, so, looking up at the stars and noting
where the west lay, I raised myself in the
water and looked for the opposite bank.
Curiously enough, it seemed almost as far
distant as it had been at first. Instinctively
I looked back, and there, only a little way
behind me, was the shore I had just left.
I must admit that the sight was not en-
couraging. Well hanging on to a water-
logged bundle and swallowing tadpoles
would not help matters, so I settled down
to business, swimming steadily on my side,
but often changing the stroke, and heading
a little up-stream to counteract the force of
the current.
Ever so gradually the water became
calmer and the shore more clearly denned,
until I could see a fringe of weeds similar to
the one I had left. Vaguely I wondered if
it would be really worth the extra effort
139
'BROTHER BOSCH'
required to actually reach it. It seemed so
easy to give up. Just as I felt my remaining
strength slipping away at each stroke I
touched some soft warm mud. Mud as a
rule does not have a stimulating effect on one,
but then the very touch of it put new life
into me. Dragging my bundle, I made a
final effort to get ashore, but fell in the
shallow water, where I lay utterly exhausted,
hardly conscious of my surroundings, my
head sinking gradually lower and lower. It
must have been the objectionable taste of the
muddy water which brought me to my senses
sufficiently to enable me to leave the river
for a more congenial resting place, namely,
some grass at the edge of a field. When at
last I got up, feeling very cold, and untied
the bundle I found that everything was
absolutely soaking. Assuredly there are
many more enjoyable pastimes than putting
on wet clothes in a cold wind in the dark.
When everything was ready for the night's
tramp, I discovered that my cap was missing,
and after a short fruitless search, decided to
leave it behind. Tired, shivering, and hatless,
I started off into the West, reckoning that
now the frontier could not be much more
than a night's march away. No sooner had
I crossed the little stubble field than I came
to a ridge, beyond which the ground dropped
several feet in a steep slope. As I moved
140
THE EMS
down this incline towards what appeared to
be a hedge, the ground became quite wet.
Suspiciously I looked ahead into the dark-
ness towards what seemed to be only an
expanse of lower ground. Near the hedge
the water rose over my ankles, but I forged
on, determined to know the worst. I was
not long in suspense, for the hedge in front
rustled (a thing that well-trained hedges do
not do), and I knew that it was another long
line of high reed-grass. Fearfully I parted
this with my hands, and there, in front, lay
a rippling sheet of water, fully as wide as the
river I had just crossed. With a thump my
heart went down into my boots, and the little
devil of despair whispered that I must be
near the mouth of the river, on an island,
a prisoner of my own making. (In truth, this
was very nearly the. case, for, as I feared, I
was very far north, this accounting for the
volume and width of the river.) This stretch
of water was totally unexpected. Had I
been fresh and known my whereabouts, it
would have formed a formidable enough
obstacle ; as it was, I had already done more
than my share of bathing for that night, and
knew that I was in a totally unfit condition
to attempt another long-distance swim.
Obviously the first thing to be done was
to make certain that I was indeed on an
island, so I proceeded to take stock of my
141
'BROTHER BOSCH'
surroundings. I noticed that, except for the'
rough patches on the water which caught the
wind, the surface was comparatively smooth,
and there was no sign of a current. Walking
a few yards to the right, I saw that the line
of the old river and this strip of unknown
water converged, leaving little hope in that
direction. I therefore turned about, and
started off to my left front. Evidence that
the cereal crop had been carted quite re-
cently was plentiful, for there was short,
fresh stubble, cart tracks, and the impression
of horses' hoofs. This pointed to the en-
couraging fact that I was not on an island,
horses and carts not usually being trans-
ported by barge or aeroplane. I had not
followed the tracks for more than fifty yards
when they turned straight towards the
water. The next minute I barely stifled a
yell of delight, for there, staring me in the
face, was a sort of pontoon bridge, stretching
away into the darkness. On closer inspec-
tion, I found it to be composed of bundles
of brushwood which were held together in
some mysterious manner, and appeared to
lie on the water. The surface of the bridge
was in very bad repair and, as some of the
top bundles of sticks were missing or pointing
upwards at an angle, progress was very slow ;
but, sometimes walking, sometimes crawling,
I got along at quite a good pace. Once it
142
THE EMS
seemed that I should have to swim a short
distance, but I found it to be unnecessary, as
only the top layer of the bundles was missing.
Nearing the other side, I made out a factory
building of some sort, with a high chimney,
a little way from the end of the bridge, and
heard the occasional bark of a watch-dog.
Try as I would, I could not move an inch
without causing a number of sticks to crackle
loudly it was almost as bad as crawling
under the heap of sticks the morning before.
Fortunately the wind must have drowned
any noise made, or carried the sound away,
for, though the dog continued to bark inter-
mittently, it cannot have been aware of my
presence.
Skirting the factory, I went across country,
avoiding roads and houses like poison. The
land was very low and flat and the dykes
very numerous, sometimes whole fields being
practically inundated. The only things that
tended to relieve the monotony were the
solitary gaunt willow trees, most of them
mere shells of their former selves, which
stood out from the misty darkness, black and
threatening, like grim sentinels.
Everywhere was water, water, water.
Every few seconds I was up to my waist in
it. Often I tried to jump a narrow dyke and
misjudged the distance, or got a bad " take
off," owing to the softness of the ground ;
143
'BROTHER BOSCH'
this usually resulted in my falling with a
splash into the middle. I think the most
aggravating thing of all was to make a really
good jump and land on the other side, just
beyond the water-line, on all fours, only to
find that I had not enough impetus to remain
there, as the ground was sloping. Sometimes
I was able to save myself by jabbing my stick
into the ground, though, more often than
not, this was impracticable, and my hands
could find nothing firmer to catch hold of
than a few tufts of grass, which almost
invariably gave way, causing me to do a
graceful but involuntary backward dive
into the dyke. As constant exercise of this
sort is very tiring and the weight of water
contained in one's clothes greatly hinders
freedom of action, my progress was necessarily
rather slower than usual. A little after
midnight the ground became harder, and I
soon found myself once more on a moor,
wandering along a narrow sandy track,
among deep heather and broom bushes.
Just as I was getting a little drier and it
seemed as if the watery nightmare was over,
I ran into a series of peat bogs, many of them
more dangerous than those I had encountered
my first night out.
I found the best way to cross a narrow strip
of marsh was to make a rush to the firm
ground, as these tactics did not allow enough
144
THE EMS
time for my feet to sink in very far. Once
the little track I was cautiously following
ended abruptly at the edge of a particularly
watery-looking bog, which not only barred
my way in front, but also curved round on
both flanks. In order to avoid this cul-de-sac
it would have been necessary to make a wide
detour, the accomplishment of which would
have involved the wasting of much valuable
time. Selecting a point where this strip of
marshy ground appeared to be the narrowest,
I retreated a few steps, gathered myself
together, and, after a short run, attempted
to take the bog by surprise and get across
before it was quite ready to receive me.
Wallowing towards the other side, I felt my
feet sinking deeply into the decayed peaty
moss, which gurgled expectantly. I was
almost over when suddenly, in a second, I
sank almost to my waist. Immediately
throwing myself on my face, I scrambled
forward, and digging my stick into the firm
ground in front, pulled for all I was worth.
I was almost free when my poor stick broke
off with a resounding crack, leaving the top
half in my hands. This I again drove into
the firm ground, and with a final effort, drew
myself out. After a short rest, during which
I mourned the loss of my beloved stick, I
went on my way determined not to risk a
passage over any deceitful bogs in the future
145
'BROTHERBOSCH'
unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Very
soon the heather became scarcer, and once
again I was among dykes and flat, misty,
green fields.
For the next two or three hours I ploughed
along towards the west, climbing over
barbed-wire fences and wading through
dykes, unless I was lucky enough to find a
plank or small bridge spanning the latter.
Scarcely perceptibly the darkness of the
eastern sky changed to a dull cold grey and
the landscape became clearer, revealing the
bare motionless arms of several windmills
stretching out into the clearer air, some
distance away, in different directions. I
roughly judged that I could not be far from
the frontier. I might even have crossed it !
Though I did my best to suppress undue
optimism, this last rather improbable idea
persisted in occupying my thoughts. It is
true I had seen nothing recently on the way
to arouse suspicion, but, owing to the marshy
nature of the country, the guards might well
be few and 'far between. The spirit of
approaching dawn lent a faint tinge of
colour to the lonely sweeps of white mist
drifting slowly above the flat dark fields, and,
settling down over the dykes, it commenced
to unravel and piece together the ghostly
confusion of dim blurred shadows and
grossly exaggerated reflections crowding on
146
THE EMS
the smooth, oily surface of the water, until
they began to assume a definite shape. -I
could almost imagine that I was gazing at
one of Tingue's early-morning landscapes, so
unmistakably Dutch was the scene. Having
got thus far no speculations of any sort could
be indulged in, the price of uncertainty being
too great. A distant village clock chimed
four, each beat vibrating clearly in the still
air. The crisis was at hand. Having suc-
cessfully evaded capture during the eight
preceding nights and days, the very thought
of failure was unbearable, and compelled me
to face the eternal problem of seeking
adequate cover for the day at an earlier hour
than usual. I therefore commenced a search
without delay, experiencing the while, I am
convinced, most of the alarming sensations
felt by many fat, juicy worms who, having
lost their burrows, are endeavouring to avoid
contact with all marauding ' early birds."
The first glance revealed not so much as a
bush or hollow willow tree in the immediate
vicinity, but in a few minutes I made out a
number of heaps of some sort away to the
right, through the semi-darkness, so went to
make a closer inspection, only to find that
two rather broader dykes than usual sought
to bar the way. When on the march a
prolonged wetting is naturally most un-
pleasant, though the continued motion tends
147
"BROTHER BOSCH'
to dry one's clothes somewhat by shaking
out much of the water. However, there
being no alternative, I plunged into the first
dyke, which proved to be quite deep, making
it again necessary to swim a few strokes. I
discovered a plank across the second one, and,
passing over, found myself in a stubble field
among a number of corn stooks. There being
no better cover, I realised that I must hide
in one of these little stacks, and chance my
luck. The problem was to ascertain which
part of the field was least likely to be overrun
by people and dogs. A short inspection
showed it to be very long and narrow, while
several indications went to prove that the
last of the crop had been cut near my original
point of entry into the field ; this was, there-
fore, the most desirable part to stay in, as
it would naturally be the last to be carried.
When people walk through a field they are
most liable to wander along near the edges,
or go through near the middle ; consequently
I chose a stook situated between the two, and
about thirty yards distant from the end of the
field. These heaps were rather too small
to form a safe hiding-place, while an unusu-
ally large one would, in all probability,
attract attention. It is reasonable to sup-
pose that, should a general enlargement be
effected embracing a number of stooks in
one area, the result would be hardly notice-
148
THE EMS
able. Removing my pack and coat, I set to
work transporting two oat sheaves from each
of the stooks in the next row for a length of
about fifty yards, and adding them to the
row in which my nest was planned to be.
To avoid suspicion, I made the now depleted
stooks up to their usual strength by again
borrowing the same number of sheaves from
each of the heaps in the row still further
beyond. After repeating this strenuous
operation a number of times the desired
effect was produced, most of the heaps in
my corner of the field now being considerably
larger than the rest. Surely it was a good
omen that my fat sheaves had devoured many
of their leaner brethren, even though the
number was not restricted to seven, as in
Pharaoh's dream. The value of making
oneself as comfortable as possible under
adverse conditions cannot be over-estimated,
for it not only stimulates the instinct of self-
preservation, but renders one in the best
condition to face the task ahead. Exposure
and fatigue gradually wear down one's
powers of resistance and bring with them the
feeling that nothing matters. This is to be
avoided more than anything, for it introduces
the personal element into all reasonings,
often forcing a decision against one's better
judgment. Having chosen my special heap,
I arranged it in such a way as to leave me
149
'BROTHER BOSCH'
as much room for movement as possible in
the centre. As I exchanged the wetter
sheaves for comparatively dry ones, the
prospect of once again being warm was
delightful and caused me to work with a will.
Everything was almost completed, and I was
just strewing a little dry straw on the ground
between the sheaves, to serve as a mattress,
when suddenly a man's voice hailed me, in
unmistakable German, from a distance of
about fifty yards : Was machen sie da ? '
(" What are you doing there ? "). Any
doubts as to which country I was in were
rudely dispelled. For a moment I was com-
pletely at a loss for an answer, then, bending
down, I seized the loose sheaf (which was to
have acted as a door to my palace) and placed
it against the others, and, turning round,
replied in low German, ' I am only replacing
these, which have fallen down."
Two workmen were standing just beyond
the dyke, having evidently approached by an
unobserved track, and were now gazing
suspiciously at me. There being no more
prostrate sheaves, I could not very well
throw some down and then pick them up
again, for the action would not have been at
all convincing. I therefore had to content
myself. with smoothing the side of the stock
in a business-like way, trusting that the
uncertain light would not disclose the in-
150
THE EMS
sanity of my actions. In a few seconds I
moved to another stook, and was commencing
to stroke the sheaves, when the same voices
demanded, in a peremptory manner, to know
what I was really doing. It was a case of
bluff, so, busying myself with the heap, I
snapped out, ' ' Ach ! go away, I have a lot
to do." From the murmur that reached me
it was obvious that this abrupt answer was
puzzling them considerably. My position
was still extremely unsafe, for border folk are
usually of a very suspicious nature, which
is intensified by the activities of war. At the
best of times my excuse would have been
feeble enough. Ordinary people don't
usually rise at four a.m. for the purpose of
walking round a soaking field stroking
sheaves of corn. Besides, it was not un-
likely that I was talking to the owner of the
field. Whether they saw the brass buttons
on my service jacket, or merely felt that I
was wanted, I do not know, but they walked
quickly towards the plank spanning the dyke
which divided their field from mine. Directly
they reached it one of them shouted some-
thing that I could not understand and was
immediately answered by a third person,
away in the mist. Once across the plank the
men, after jabbering excitedly, came towards
me at a quick run. Needless to say, it is
extremely dangerous to be chased in bare
'BROTHER BOSCH'
country of this sort just when the day is
breaking and the fields rapidly filling with
workers, for once the alarm is raised the result
is almost certain to mean capture. This
time, however, it was not a matter of choice ;
my hand had been forced, compelling me
reluctantly to play my last card. Picking
up my pack and coat, I ran as only once
before in my varied career the night when
I almost felt the pitchforks belonging to the
little devils which chased me away from
Strohen camp. After running about a
hundred yards, trusting to the mist and un-
certain light to partially screen my move-
ments, I turned aside and dived headlong
into a stook, pulling the straw after me. In
a few seconds my pursuers drew level and, to
my intense satisfaction, passed on, breathing
heavily. This is the last I saw of these two
eager sons of the Fatherland. For all I
know, they may be still following the excel-
lent example afforded by " Charlie's Aunt."
152
CHAPTER XI
HOLLAND
I WAS now in a small wet stook, very cold
and hungry. It being too light to risk a
return journey to my carefully prepared nest,
I had to take things as they were, and fell to
wondering what it must feel like to be in a
nice warm bed. The day proved to be one
long nightmare. By careful observation I
saw that a number of girls were working on
the same crop, luckily at the other end of the
field. They appeared only to be gleaning,
but as it was quite likely this was preparatory
to the carting, I resolved to keep a very sharp
look-out to avoid being transfixed by a pitch-
fork and hoisted on to a cart. About break-
fast-time a peculiar noise came from some-
where quite close, so, parting the corn
carefully, I peered out in that direction.
There, to my horror, were three men scything
the rushes along a ditch which passed a few
feet from me. The heap was a small one,
and, therefore, to avoid detection, I en-
deavoured to put the best part of it between
153
'BROTHER BOSCH'
myself and them when they were working the
closest to me. The completion of this
operation naturally left me a little exposed
on what I supposed to be my safe side. The
men had almost passed, when I happened to
look away from the ditch and saw a farmer
standing beside the very next heap to mine,
surveying the crop, his hands in his pockets.
Somehow or other I wriggled back un-
observed, and lay shivering with a combina-
tion of cold and fear. After half-an-hour's
wait, I again looked out cautiously, and was
relieved to find the man gone, though there
seemed to be even more people in the neigh-
bourhood than before. To add to my
discomfort the breeze increased to quite a
strong, piercing wind, which whistled in and
out among the corn-sheaves until I felt very
like an ice-cream in a refrigerator. Even
then there were more trials to come, for, not
only did the grain pour itself into my clothes,
eyes and ears, but also mixed with the crop
was a large proportion of barley or bearded
wheat, which took a truly fiendish delight
in slowly but relentlessly making its way up
my sleeves or down my back. In this
predicament it seemed almost unthinkable
that I should ever have been so foolish in my
. schooldays as to pick barley heads and
deliberately put them a little way up my coat-
sleeves, the barbs downwards, expressly for
154
HOLLAND
the pleasure of feeling them crawling up my
arms. Most of us do curious things in our
youth !
Suffice it to say that, in spite of all con-
victions to the contrary, I was still in the
heap, unmolested, when the afternoon re-
solved itself into evening and the labourers
left for their homes. A little before nine
o'clock, after a short but drenching shower, I
could stand it no longer, so crawled out, damp
and cold, but still almost glad to be alive.
Looking towards the west in the fading light,
I saw a large shape moving slowly from left
to right through the country, roughly a
couple of miles away. It could only be a
sail. With a sinking feeling I realised that
in front lay at least one more canal which
must be crossed. (This canal, I afterwards
discovered, was actually in Holland.) Al-
though I did not feel desperately hungry,
I somehow felt that I was getting near the
end of my tether ; my food, also, was
dwindling and could not last more than two
days at the outside, for I was already half-way
through my emergency ration, a tin of
Quaker oats. Strange to say, porridge is
nothing like as nice eaten raw.
As soon as it was dark I started out,
resolved not only to be extremely cautious,
but, at the same time, to get as far as possible
before the next day overtook me, time now
155
'BROTHER BOSCH'
threatening to form one of my most formid-
able adversaries. Travelling across country,
I soon came upon a long road bordered by
trees, so hid in the edge of some beans to
make sure that all was clear before venturing
across it. Almost immediately I heard
voices not far distant, and presently a man
on a bicycle rode past. When everything
was quiet again I managed to step across
the road unobserved, feeling sure that
another danger point was past. The night
being cold it may be imagined that I was
scarcely overjoyed at finding it necessary
to wade or swim through another short
series of dykes ; this was, however, the case.
Drawing near to the dreaded canal, I noticed
that on either flank, some distance away,
were clusters of rather brilliant lights.
Presumably this pointed to the fact that these
lights were placed at points of special im-
portance, such as strongly guarded bridges,
in which case it seemed probable that the
canal might form part of the boundary line.
In order to avoid the slightest rustle which
might attract attention, I rolled my raincoat
and secured it over one shoulder, " bandolier
fashion." I next covered the brass buttons
of my tunic with mud, to prevent their
reflecting the rays of a possible flashlight, and,
after smearing some dirt on my face and
hands, moved forward once more, prepared,
156
HOLLAND
in case of discovery, to make a dash towards
the west regardless of the consequences.
In a few minutes I saw, by the even line
of the higher ground in front, that I had
almost reached the raised canal, and was just
preparing to mount the short, grassy slope
when I came upon a hard-worn narrow track
running along near the edge of a rather wide
dyke, which separated me from the embank-
ment. The dyke being in the lee of the wind
it seemed advisable to ascertain whether it
was possible to cross by any plank or bridge
which might be in the vicinity in preference
to going through it, for, though one may be
able to get into a dyke quietly enough, the
getting out is a very different matter when
the sides are steep and one's clothes full of
water. Walking along this path very warily
for about twenty yards, I was lucky enough
to discover a plank leading across (for except
for the faint silhouette of the top of the
embankment against the sky, practically
everything was hidden by the darkness).
Though the plank bent threateningly I
succeeded in crossing it, and crawled to the
top of the rise. A glance revealed a broad,
reed-fringed canal, reflecting little dancing
lights on its wind-swept surface the stars
which had the audacity to peep out from
between the clouds. I could hear the
splashings of a water-rat actually swimming
157
'BROTHER BOSCH'
at that time of night for the fun of it !
Quickly crossing the tow-path and parting
the reeds, I followed its example, and, not
waiting to remove pack, clothing or shoes,
swam towards the opposite bank as silently
as possible. It can only have been a few
yards across, but I remember feeling almost
as tired as if I had swum the Channel. This
was the tenth night of my escapade, and the
strain was certainly beginning to tell. As I
was leaving the canal behind some wild duck
rose from a dyke close by me, with much
flapping of wings. If their desire was to
frighten me they certainly achieved their
object.
When, after an hour or more, I continued
plodding along without seeing anything
unusual, I could not help again wondering if
I was still in German territory. My curiosity
increased when two motor cycles with
powerful headlights went by on what ap-
peared to be a main road. I had not seen
anything like that for weeks, so resolved
to go along the road myself in the hope
of seeing some other strange sights.
Immediately on arriving there I had to take
cover in a corner of an orchard to avoid
another light, which was rapidly overtaking
me. From this point of vantage I was soon
able to see that the light was on a bicycle,
and the rider not a tin soldier, complete with
158
HOLLAND
helmet and curling moustache, but a peace-
ably dressed young woman. Encouraged by
the promising trend of events, I stole some
apples and made my way, munching and
shivering, towards a little group of houses,
hoping to discover some writing which might
prove which country I was in. Eventually
I found a letter-box and ieverishly en-
deavoured to decipher, in the semi-darkness,
a long word printed in black letters on a white
background. With a sinking heart I slowly
made out the letters B R I E. Was it
necessary to read any further ? Surely this
was proof positive that I was still under the
gentle sway of the Kaiser ! What else could
the remainder be but " feasten," completing
the German word for letter-box. With
almost a feeling of resignation, I continued
to wrest the remaining letters from the dark-
ness. The expected F was a very peculiar
shape. No, it was a V, after all ! With
every letter my hopes rose as I spelt out the
remaining E N B U S. I do not profess to
be a German scholar, but I do know that the
word "BRIEVENBUS" does not adorn their
letter-boxes in the ordinary course of events.
Feeling vaguely happy, but still haunted by
the first syllable of the word, I made my way
further into the village. At first all seemed
quiet, but presently I heard a couple talking
near the entrance of a house. Creeping up
159
"BROTHER BOSCH'
as close as I dared in the deep shadow of the
building, I strained my ears almost to dis-
location to catch a few words of the conver-
sation. The language they were speaking
struck me as peculiarly ugly, and did not
seem to lend itself readily to the uses to which
they were undoubtedly putting it. The
fact that they were not speaking ordinary
German did not necessarily mean that the
language was Dutch, for it might have been
some border dialect. However, I could
restrain myself no longer, so, walking up to
the man, I addressed him thus in German,
with as much nonchalance as I could com-
mand : " Can you tell me if I am in Germany
or Holland ? : He did not seem to grasp
the question at once, which in itself was a
good sign, though it lengthened my breathless
suspense. I believe I would willingly have
murdered him if, by doing so, I could have
had the answer an instant sooner, for so much
depended on it. All at once he straightened
himself up and, in a surprised voice, replied,
" Holland ! '
I should never have believed that one
simple word could have meant so much. The
news so completely overwhelmed me that, for
a few seconds, I failed to grasp its import.
Then, springing forward, I seized and shook
his hand so violently that it almost threatened
to fall off, at the same time showering
160
HOLLAND
explanations at him in a hundred and one
different languages, in the hope that he would
understand one of them. Needless to say, at
first the unfortunate Dutchman was rather
perturbed at being so cordially greeted by
some one he must have thought to be a
dangerous lunatic at large, though I consider
that he stood the ordeal very well. I think
the girl was the first to really grasp the
situation, for, to my surprise, she congratu-
lated me in broken German, and insisted on
shaking hands, too. In spite of the good
news I was still wet, cold and hungry, and
the prospect of again sleeping in a warm bed
was very alluring. I therefore inquired the
way to the nearest hotel, and was told to
make for a larger village, some three kilo-
metres distant. I asked if there was any
possibility of my taking a wrong turn leading
back into Hunland, and being assured there
was none if I followed the main road, started
off in the best of spirits. It was just like
walking on air. My dreams of freedom had
at last come true. Though it was after one
o'clock, I encountered several people and
each time inquired the way, thus making
assurance doubly sure. I can hardly attempt
to describe the strange exultant feelings
which surged through me as I marched along,
conscious of having left 'Brother Bosch'
behind.
B.B.
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Eventually, singing a marching song, I
rounded a corner and found myself in a village
street, almost opposite a house in front of
which hung a sign, just distinguishable in the
darkness : ' Hotel Van Dijk." Regardless
of the fact that I did not possess a cent, I
proceeded to knock loudly on the front door.
After a few minutes my efforts were rewarded
by hearing an upstairs window open, and
being told in Dutch to go away. However,
my mind being made up, I persisted in making
more noise than ever. Seeing his protesta-
tions were in vain, and evidently scenting
something unusual, I understood ' mein
Host ' to say that he would come down.
My knowledge of the laws of internment of
a neutral country being very limited, it
behoved me to act with extreme caution if
I wished to follow in the footsteps of brother
escapers, whom I knew had preceded me to
England.
Though I had committed no act of war,
such as crossing the frontier carrying arms,
I did not feel very sure of my ground. There-
fore when the elderly innkeeper, holding a
flickering candle, shot back the bolts, he
found me wearing only a khaki shirt and
gre}^ flannel trousers, the soaking raincoat
and tunic having been hurriedly secreted in
my pack, so that he could not assert that I
was in uniform when he first saw me, in case
162
HOLLAND
the subject should be raised later. As soon
as he heard the facts of the case, the Dutch-
man motioned me to accompany him along
the street, which I did wonderingly. I
imagined myself shortly being interviewed
by a fat, sleepy-eyed and pompous burgo-
master, who would either fall upon my neck,
or order me straight back to Germany. After
half-an-hour's walk, when my guide halted
beside a long wooden hut and knocked
vigorously, I decided that there was nothing
to fear in that direction, for no such dis-
tinguished person would deign to live in so
humble a residence. Presently, in answer
to our repeated efforts, we heard several
grumbling voices, a door was opened, and I
was bidden to enter. As soon as I was
*
accustomed to the glaring gas-light, I
experienced a considerable shock. Occupy-
ing the whole length of the room in which I
stood was a double line of beds, mostly
containing sleeping men, and from the walls
hung many greenish uniforms, rifles and
bayonets ! On recovering from my first
surprise, I turned to a fully dressed soldier
I took to be a sergeant, who by this time,
presumably, understood that I was an
escaped ' Inglesman," and asked him, in
German, for an explanation. In the midst
of his almost unintelligible reply I caught
the word ' Grenswacht ' (frontier guard)
163
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Seeing that we were at cross purposes, the
sergeant roused a man who spoke very fair
English and acted as interpreter. I soon
learnt that I was in the local headquarters
of the Dutch Frontier Guard, and would have
to remain there until seen by an officer the
next day. This suited me only too well, so
having duly impressed the fact that I was not
in uniform, I retired to a bed arranged for
me in the N.C.O.'s room, and commenced to
pull off my wet clothes.
Meanwhile tongues had not been idle, and
eager, curious faces began to peep at the
' stray dog ' through the half-open door.
Just as I was about to turn in, curiosity
could be restrained no longer ; the room
filled with noisy young fellows, who took up
a position round my bed and proceeded to
bombard me with questions. It was all so
well meant that I endeavoured to give them
a brief outline of my doings, in German. The
idea of an Englishman speaking German was
evidently quite beyond their comprehension,
for, judging by many doubtful looks of
astonishment, it seemed that the general
impression was that I was a camouflaged Hun.
As they all persisted in talking at once, I put
an end to the argument by disappearing under
the bedclothes. About ten o'clock the next
morning I awoke, feeling stiff er than ever
before, the slightest contraction of a muscle
164
HOLLAND
resembling the jerking of a rusty wire.
However, when a soldier, seeing that I
was awake, brought my breakfast, I sat up
with remarkable agility and devoured every
crumb. Never have I enjoyed a meal more.
Every additional mouthful of the deliciously
fresh Dutch cheese and new bread seemed to
receive a still more exquisite taste when I
thought of the Irish stew I had missed when
standing behind my imitation wall at Strohen.
It was not until after a thoroughly good scrub
and a cold bath that I could screw 7 up enough
courage to look at- myself in a mirror, and,
prepared as I was, the sudden reflection of the
wild-eyed, bearded tramp considerably sur-
prised me. A little before lunch, having
obtained some dry underclothing, I was
sitting on my bed, extracting a selection of
barbed wire and splinters from my hands with
a large needle, when a Dutch officer walked
in to see the curiosity. He greeted me
cordially in very good English, introducing
himself as Lieutenant Hoffman, in charge of
the local detachment of the Frontier Guard,
and asked me to lunch with him at his hotel.
On the way thither I could not help being
very impressed by the design and beauty of
the village. The houses were mostly large,
with spacious, well-kept gardens, the streets
clean and the general atmosphere of the place
spoke of great prosperity. Hoffman took me
165
'BROTHER BOSCH'
to a barber, who performed for a long time,
but in the end turned out a comparatively
respectable human being. At lunch I met
another Dutch officer, also an English scholar,
who, after hearing the latter part of my
experience, told me that I must have actually
walked along the German sentry's path, just
beyond the canal, the night before. Having
had no escaped prisoners in that district
before, they had a disquieting idea that I
should very likely be interned. I learnt that,
in all probability, I should proceed to a
larger town for further examination the
following day, and gathered that, in the
meantime, it would be advisable for me to
remain close to my headquarters and refrain
from wandering about by myself, the frontier
being too close for safety.
Shortly after lunch the two officers entered
the room, carrying a couple of sporting guns,
and announced their intention of spending
the afternoon at a canal on the frontier duck
shooting, and said that I might expect them
back about tea-time. Being a prisoner no
longer the very thought of seeing grey-clad
sentries standing at their posts appealed to
me so much that I begged to be allowed to
accompany them, deciding to run the small
risk such a visit might entail. Hoffman was
considerably surprised at my proposal, but
said I could come at my own risk if I thought
166
HOLLAND
I had known him long enough to be able to
take his word. He reminded me, at the same
time, that one can easily step over a frontier
line, intentionally or otherwise, and pro-
duced a loaded automatic pistol from his
coat pocket as if to back up his argument,
asking me to choose my course of action.
For a few seconds I reasoned with myself
and then accepted, it seeming perfectly
obvious that Hoffman would never have
shown his hand had he intended playing a
crooked game. Just before starting the
innkeeper lent me a civilian cap and overcoat,
which gave me a sense of security and
enabled me to set out with the others if not
a perfect, at any rate a passable Dutchman.
Presently we arrived at a bridge-head,
where the Dutch guard turned out and
saluted, when, it must be confessed, I felt
a trifle nervous, being then almost on the
frontier. The formalities over, we left our
bicycles in the guard-room and, crossing the
bridge, proceeded along the tow-path at the
side of the canal. There, sure enough, were
the grey-clad sentries, standing near their
boxes along a little raised path, at intervals
varying from one to two hundred yards.
Seeing that our presence seemed to occasion
considerable interest on the part of the
sentries, I inquired the reason from one of
my companions, and was informed that only
167
'BROTHER BOSCH'
persons in the company of Dutch officers
were allowed where we were walking, in the
neutral zone dividing the two countries.
Curiously enough the water dog, whose duty
it was to start the birds from among the reeds,
was English and went by the name of ' Tom. "
Fortunately he was very obedient, for had
he once crossed between the extenuated lines
of grey men Tom would have afforded the
Huns some moving target practice, which in
all probability would have resulted in his
contributing to a sausage machine. I am
sure I do not know what I should have done
if this had happened while I was with the
party, for Tom, when feeling lonely, used to
run straight up to me, wagging his stumpy
tail and looking up with eyes which so
plainly said that he was indeed glad to meet
a fellow-countryman, for, though Dutchmen
were kind enough to him, the scent was some-
what different.
Towards the end of the afternoon we came
to a place where the frontier line gradually
converged, running parallel to, and about
twenty-five yards away from, the canal, just
the other side of a dyke at the bottom of the
embankment. It must have been somewhere
here that an unseen hand had unconsciously
guided me to safety through the darkness of
the night before. I selected a particularly
Hunnish-looking sentry, who was standing
168
HOLLAND
beside a painted black and white box, with
a long, wicked-looking and old-patterned
bayonet gleaming above his slung rifle, and,
hailing him casually, remarked that it must
be weary work doing nothing, and inquired
if he was tired of the war, to which he replied
with a sullen ' Ja." Undismayed by his
dismal expression, I inquired if they ever had
any escaped prisoners in those parts. This
time he did not deign to answer, but merely
shook his head solemnly. By removing my
coat I could have easily disillusioned him,
but, remembering that a rifle bullet is not a
thing to be trifled with, I refrained.
Feeling my triumph complete, I turned and
limped away, still hardly able to realise that
only a few hours before I had unknowingly
paraded along the same little raised path
which the Germans were so jealously guard-
ing. Of all my escapes this was the most
inexplicable. To what was it due ? Cer-
tainly not to my own initiative alone.
Man's extremity is indeed God's opportunity.
5|C SjC SfC SjC
Supreme in the world of red tape, far
above the ken of misguided mortals, lives
an omnipotent being the Censor. In
imagination, he sits in a huge armchair,
wreathed in tobacco smoke, casually sorting,
from piles of manuscript, the sheep from the
goats. The former are destined to be
169
"BROTHER BOSCH'
smothered in official stamps and coloured
inks, while the latter are cast ignominiously
into the gigantic waste-paper basket. Though
this little sheep, in particular, may have a
little of its wool shorn off, I trust that it may
eventually avoid the rubbish heap. For this
reason I must ask the reader to be contented
with a very curtailed and disjointed account
of the remainder of my wanderings.
* * * *
In due course I was placed in a quarantine
camp, to remain there until a given number
of days should elapse, when, on being pro-
nounced free from infection, I should be
allowed to continue my journey through
Holland. The camp contained a number of
German deserters who, it appeared, crossed
the frontier in this district at the average rate
of one per diem, having for the most part
arrived direct from the front, with every
intention of leaving their beloved Voter-
land ' behind for ever. They made no
secret of the fact that they hoped to be able
to emigrate to England or America as soon
as it was all over. Several of them were
N.C.O.'s, wearing the black and white ribbon
of the Iron Cross, to all appearances good
soldiers whom their relentless system had
forced to desertion rather than the terror of
the British guns. The Germans occupied a
separate hut, and were kept strictly to them-
170
HOLLAND
selves. This probably saved a lot of trouble,
for, judging by the spirited way they occasion-
ally sang ' Deutschland, Deutschland uber
alles," accompanied by an accordion, the
spirit of patriotism and savage ' kultur '
still flowed in their veins. Doubtless the
first German band to return to England will
be composed of the most gentle peace and
beer-loving Huns that ever visited our
favoured shores. Whatever the nature of
the welcome and guarantees extended to
them by our English ' Bolsheviks ' (who
even now have the audacity to advocate
a policy of ' shake and be friends "),
their lives will not be at all secure when
they come in contact, as they ultimately
must, with Britishers who have been most
brutally treated and forced to work as
prisoners in the German salt mines, men
who have come to know the truth of the
saying, ' Once a Bosch, always a Bosch,"
during their stay of several years in Hunland.
I feel genuinely sorry for the very few really
nice Germans who certainly do exist (several
of whom I met during my captivity). How-
ever, considering that their influence has been
practically nil in the War, on account of their
being in such a minority, I suppose they will
be bound to suffer with the rest.
The number of escaped French and
Russian soldiers was surprising. However
171
'BROTHER BOSCH'
they must have had many excellent oppor-
tunities, while working in the fields near the
frontier, to cross the dividing line. It did
not take me long to discover three British
privates, who were distinctly bored and very
pleased to see me. The eldest was a South
African, escaped from a reprisal camp, while
the other two belonged to the Warwicks.
Though little more than boys they had in
all probability seen more of the hardships
of life than many men of treble their age.
Great excitement prevailed when, by dint of
much cajoling, I managed to procure a
mandoline from the town, for, though the
meals were very much looked forward to and
enjoyed, the rest of the time passed very
slowly. It is not easy to play tunes to
satisfy the cravings of different nationalities
at a moment's notice. A few Russians
flung themselves about to the lilt of some of
their rowdiest cake-walks, while the " Marseil-
laise," seeming a universal favourite, was
repeatedly called for. On the morning of the
fourth day three weird-looking figures, wear-
ing a queer mixture of ready-made Dutch
garments, entered the camp with a guard.
I could scarcely believe my eyes when I
recognised some of my former companions
at Strohen. Two of them, Captain Harrison,
of the Royal Irish, and Lieutenant C. F.
Templar, ist Gloucesters (since then, I regret
172
HOLLAND
to say, killed in action), were ' old Con-
temptibles," having been captured about
the beginning of the War, while the third,
Lieutenant J. Insall, V.C., R.F.C., had been
in captivity two years. They had all made
many previous attempts to escape, and
consequently had sampled many German
prisons, and now at last succeeded. Captain
Harrison, I have since heard, was again
captured, during the German advance in
the spring of '18, but was fortunately able
to regain our lines the same night. Our
delight at meeting again outside Germany
was mutual, and, having so many notes to
exchange, the time then passed much more
rapidly. After various communications with
the British authorities, we were successful
at last in getting in touch with the British
Minister at the Hague, who almost immedi-
ately obtained our release from the quaran-
tine camp, to the unbounded astonishment
of the local Dutch magnates.
* * * *
Receiving an invitation to visit Sir Walter
Townley (British Minister), I proceeded to
the Hague, freed at last from the annoying
formality of being continually escorted by
an officer or guard. Imagine my pleasure
at once more sitting down to afternoon tea
in an English drawing-room. I shall never
forget the kind thought and solicitude of
'BROTHER BOSCH'
my hostess, Lady Susan. I almost seemed to
be in England.
Before catching my train back, I engaged
a taxi and tried to see as much of the town as
possible in the time. The driver understood
but little of my directions ; the sight, how-
ever, of a few guldens caused him to drive
so recklessly that I thought my last hour
had come. It seemed that we must be leaving
the path strewn with luckless victims.
Arriving at the Palace of Peace, where the
nations had so unsuccessfully beguiled each
other with ' ' smooth words, softer than honey, ' '
I succeeded in inducing my charioteer to come
to a standstill. Alighting, a policeman in-
formed me that the building had just been
closed, but pointed out the highly ornamental
metal gates, which, at the cost of 40,000 marks,
had been presented by the Kaiser Wilhelm a
few years before the War. Espying on them
angels of peace carrying palm branches, I
could contain myself no longer, so delivered
an impassioned harangue to the astonished
Dutchman on the subject of hypocrisy, in a
mixture of German, French and Dutch.
Presently, seeing a large crowd gathering
around us> I concluded my remarks with a
substantial tip, and signalling to " Mynheer
Mercury," was once more whirled into space.
* * * *
The convoy, in formation, steamed through
174
HOLLAND
the neutral waters towards the open sea.
On board were a party of women and children,
proceeding from Germany to England for
repatriation. Several of them must have
been in Germany an exceedingly long time,
for they could only speak broken English,
while some of the children, having evidently
been born there, could speak no English at
all. Soon the ship began to roll gently in
response to the ever-increasing swell. As the
White Ensign fluttered happily from the
stern, most of us took advantage of the still
comparatively calm sea by parading along
the deck in company with a British commo-
dore, confidently straining our eyes to catch
a first glimpse of the approaching escort ; and
it was, unfortunately, obvious that every one
on board did not share our good spirits. As
the disconcerting movements of the ship
increased, the Anglo-German element, pale-
faced and dejected, assembled amidships, and
forming a small, huddled group, hastily
commenced to put on their cork jackets and
life-belts, evidently preparing for the expected
impact of the dreaded torpedo. Just then,
as the look-out, attracted by some specks
of foam emerging from the grey, misty
horizon, signalled that a number of ships
were fast approaching, they could stand the
strain no longer, so, breaking into a weird
German chant, they wailed disconsolately.
'BROTHER BOSCH'
Could it be that the victorious German fleet,
of which they had so often heard, was at this
very moment bearing down upon us ?
Perish the thought ! The specks of white
grew larger with alarming rapidity. It was
not until the British destroyer flotilla was
almost on us that we could discern, behind
each dividing mass of curving foam, the
sinister and capable grey shapes of Britannia's
watch-dogs moving swiftly, in perfect har-
mony with sea and sky. As if inspired by
one mind, our guardians turned about, and
silently taking up their respective positions
at a reduced speed, they passed with us safely
along the King's Highway !
THE WHITEKRIARS PRESS, LTD , LOMDON A.ND TONBRIDGE.
YB 21163
V %
4901;
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
