Wounded and a Prisoner of War, by an Exchanged Officer

th.-Mass, 8.30.

ft of the chapel had been set aside for the use of the prisoners, and thither we were escorted down a dark stair and long corridor by the usual armed sentries, one of whom remained with us in the church. The body of the church was filled with German soldiers. During Mass the organ was played and hymns were sung by the German part of the congregation. After Mass was Benediction, when it was our privilege to sing. Colonel

itted suicide last night in the corrido

ight, that a noise of running feet outside the door o

cleaned up, a stain on the stone floor and a bullet-hole in the wall remained to tell the tragic story. Snow was falling that afternoon, and there was no chance of getting out to the terrace, so that the rest of the day had to be devoted to Poker and Bridge, games of which all were heartily sick. Reading was difficult on account of the ceaseless noise kept up by Gollywog and his merry men. Our game of Bridge was played at the end of the dining-table, the other end being occupied by chess, of which the

ggested it was a pity to put off the encounter indefinitely, and meantime proposed the use of coal buckets at fifteen paces. Strangely enough this real quarrel brought peace

the latter somewhat more palatable when f

visit. I asked to be exchanged

the event of an exchange of prisoners, it was in this man's hands that the f

that morning, and, partly from the cold, partly from nervousness, my entry into the room where the doctor was wa

try and walk with one stick only. In attempting to do this, which at times I was well able to do, my right leg, fortunately, refused to move forward. The doctor took down some notes in his book and seemed to have quite made up his mind as to the hopelessness of my condition. In answer to my inquiry, "There will be no exchange of officers," he said, "and you will never get any better." The latter part of this not very cheering remark was fairly satisfactory, as it meant that if ever there was to be an exchange, my name would be on the list. The hardships

ss Commander. A safe occupation this to worry defenceless prisoners, and one more suited, perhaps, to his capabilities and inclination than a soldier's work at the Front. My first introduction to this unpleasant individual was when the doctor brought him to see me in answer to my request for hot baths. I was lying in the English room on the corner bed, known as the Club Sofa. I struggled up into a sitting position, and saluted the visitors to the best of my ability. The Rittmeister did not deign to take the slightest notice. Dr Zinck explained that I had ask

was not much room for the two sentries, who, like most of their kind, needed a lot of accommodation. It was, however, quite impossible to get the rifles in with the bayonets fixed. After one or two attempts, and after sticking the point of their bayonets nearly through the roof of the van, they finally gave it up, unfixed bayonets, and sat holding them in their hands. The windows of our carriage were of frosted glass, barred right along inside and out, so that we could see nothing of the town as we went along. A quarter of an hour's drive brought us to our destination. The van turned into a large covered yard, in one corner of which was a large motor waggon and a pile of worn-out knapsacks, boots, and military kit of various nature. From this yard a flight of stone steps led down into a bas

entured to offer some to our melancholy guardians. To attempt such familiarity was, of course, a serious breach of regulations, and they shook their heads regretfully. They were a most amusing-look

denly in. I could not turn round to see, and did not know who the noisy visitors were until I saw that every one in the room was standing to attention. I slowly rose from my chair and, leaning both hands on the table, managed to keep a fairly good balance, which I nearly lost in taking my pipe out of my mouth. When the group, which consisted of the Inspecting Colonel, the Rittmeister, and Mr Poerringer, came opposite to where I was standing, they stopped and looked at me. "W

y was a better-mannered man than I was. Of course, bad manners was only what might be expected of a British officer. If I did not know how to behave, they would soon teach me, &c., &c., &c. Every word of this tirade, most of which I understood, was then repeated in French by Mr Poerringer, and his translation was certainly milder than the original. The Rittmeister stood by with an evil grin. When they had all finished, I told Mr Poerringer that I was physically incapable of showing such outward signs of respect as were due the inspect

aged hairdresser, accompanied always by a sentry with the ever-loaded rifle and the everlastingly

d polite speech. He had heard that the English officers had not been behaving properly, that they were quarrelsome, disagreeable men, and so on, for a good few minutes, ending up with a request that the French officers would kindly come to him if they had any complaint to make, however small, concerning the conduct of the English, who would then promptly be put in cells. "Bobjohn," a Lieutenant de Reserve, who knew German very well, replied briefly on behalf of the French officers-that they were all, English and French, brothers-in-arms and firm friends. The Rittmeister then went off in a very bad temper, disappointed that his clumsy plot to get the English into trouble had been a total failure. We were all indeed more amused at, than angry with, the Rittmeister's impertinence, but many of the French officers thought that Gollywog's part in the affair was open to suspicion; in fact, he was suspe