Wounded and a Prisoner of War, by an Exchanged Officer

d sleep, and above all free of the previous night's headache. My sentry, who had also slept well, was good enough to ask

ing could not be imagined. It had evidently rained hard

urney's end, when I saw what looked like two British officers walking along the station road. There was no mistake about the British wa

sentry, who had been standing in the corridor, came back

nd had to be taken across the station on a stretcher. There were several other stretc

and French, were dressed in French uniforms, and one or two, who

the narrow wooden seats on each side being made to hold four people. It was with great difficulty that I crawled along the corridor through the crowd of wounde

wise than lying down, and that even for able-bodied passengers the carriage was overcrowded. Also I demanded anew to be allowed to travel with the French doctor, whom I now saw being escorted along the platform to the rear end of the train. My protest was of no avail, and on inquiring who was the officer in cha

lent sentries, and the problem of how to divide

s, one of which was more than occupied by the two sentries. The other three had to be give

erything that they could to settle me as comfortably as possible. My bag was put at the end of a corner seat, and, making a pillow with my greatcoa

e been severe, the situation may be desperate, and the outlook depressing,

long with pride, covetousness, lust, and the other familiar vices, while cheerfulness is placed high on the list of virtues. I can now appr

d at our strange conduct. We none of us had much to laugh at. The most helpless man in our carriage was a young fellow of nineteen in the K.O.S.B.'s, whose leg had been broken just above the shin, and a piece of the bone knocked away. This man was subsequently exchanged, and

own, and we were still, at 12.3

s. He informed our sentries that we were about to start for Mainz, and before going out the German soldier snatched the French képi from t

unch, and we were told we would get nothi

ng the Germans for food before using our own. It was with the greatest difficulty that we at last got something to drink. Our sentries did not show any ill-feeling, and it was not their fault that nothing w

brought to the carriage by women dressed in uniform. They belonged to an association whic

ssociation for supplying prisoners of war with food and

ver an hour. Although the amount of data regarding the internal conditions of a country which can be obtained from a car

ets, nearly all were in uniform, young and old. Some of the older men wore very quaint-looking garments. I have seen more civil

welve to fifteen, working in gangs of about six, doing the work of two or three men. Al

itary control, and transport w

rs. When the troop train happened to draw up opposite us, sometimes a fist would be shaken in the air, accompanied by what sounded like very bad language. But the general spirit shown by these young German troops towards our train-load of wounded prisoners was that of contempt and pity of victors for the vanquished. The m

e some of the country villages, groups of youths, almost ch

German troops having a field-day. They were preparing to advance on the village throu

eloquently of the efforts Germany was making than the goods tr

in evidence, and it was depressing to see the well-known French vans with the inscription, "hommes 40, chevaux 12," f

material. Long trains were standing on the sid

tice indicating Government service. Once we passed a train with heavy artillery on specially constructed waggons, and we saw several trains of ordinary field artillery. These trains of troops, munitions, motor-cars, coal, and a hundred other weapons of war that were hidden from view, the whole methodical procession of supplies to the Front

aces, have yet understood how great, as to be almost invinc

ind which is the all-prevailing spirit of the motto, "Deutschland über Alles," the Fatherland above all things, and before all things. The end justifying the means in t

lest of virtues, is the only ideal which the brutal mater

which men will cheerfully die, Germany has destroy

rous to express myself as frankly as I have just done here, I always felt that I was deali

ions are afflicted, for the foolish British bumptiousness, which of late years has not been so much in evidence, due to ignorance and want of intercourse with Continental nations, does not strike deep enough into the national charact

Perfide Albion"), that at any rate we had not invaded Belgium in breach of a solemn treaty. I fully expected to be chastised for my boldness, but my remark

land üb

ur carriage out of curiosity; some of them were rude and insul

ny unprepared, and that we were mobilised for war in July. I did not answer him, but turned round to the wounded soldier next me and said to him, "When did you mobilis

t raised, for the Germans consider that they have won already, and they ha

statement caused considerable laughter, and when the sentry returned to our carriage I asked him where the joke lay. England, he then explained, for years had employed a small number of paid men to do whatever fighting was needed, a

r voluntary system. They know that if the full power of the British Empire was brought against them, defeat would in the long-run be inevitable. But they believe, and I think rightly believe, that this can never come to pass without organisation and

ed by speeches on England's grim determination made in Parliament or leaders written in our

stern discipline of conscription, the present unshakable confiden

could have done what we have done; that our voluntary army of one or two or three million men, whatever it may be, is the most wonderful

done, but what we have left undone, since nothing