Three Times and Out — Chapter IX. Caught; Chapter X. The Cells!

There was nothing else to do.

CHAPTER IX CAUGHT!

At first it seemed as if there were a platoon of soldiers: they were everywhere I looked, and there were more coming!

They were, for the most part, young fellows from the training camp at Aschaffenburg, and it was not every day they got a chance to catch a couple of prisoners.

So it was done with a flourish!

The Captain instructed us to put up our hands, and two of the soldiers searched us.

They were welcome to my map, because already I was thinking of making another, but I did not like to see my compass go--I kept wondering how I would ever get another.

There was no hostility in their attitude toward us, either from the soldiers or the civilians.

The potato-diggers, mostly women, went straight back to their work as if they had done their share and now some one else could "carry on."

Prisoners or no prisoners, the potatoes had to be dug.

A few children gathered around us, but they kept back at a respectful distance and made no remarks.

Where the military are concerned, the civilian population do not interfere, even by words or looks.

The village women who gathered around us had most apathetic, indifferent, sodden faces; I don't believe they knew what it was all about.

They were no more interested in what was going on than the black-and-white Holstein cows that grazed in the meadow near by.

[Illustration: Map made by Private Simmons of the First Attempt] I spoke of this afterwards to Bromley.

"But you must remember," he said, "they knew enough to go and tell on us.

That wasn't so slow."

We could see that the soldiers were greatly pleased with their catch, by the way they talked and gesticulated.

Every one was pleased but us!

Then the commander, addressing his men in what we took to be a congratulatory speech, called for volunteers.

We knew the word.

I looked at Bromley, and saw the same thought in his face, but his sense of humor never failed him.

"Cheer up, Sim!"

he said.

"They are just calling for volunteers to shoot us.

The boys must have something to practise on."

We laughed about it afterwards, but I must say I did not see much fun in it that minute.

But it was only volunteers to take us into Aschaffenburg.

The commander wished to spread the joy and gladness as far as it would go, and I think it was fully a dozen who escorted us to Aschaffenburg, about a mile and a half away.

They marched us through the principal streets, where I saw the sign "Kleiderfabrik" many times.

The people stopped to look at us, but I saw no evidence of hostility.

I am not sure that the majority of the people knew who we were, though of course they knew we were foreigners.

There was one person, however, who recognized us, for as we were marching past one of the street-corners, where a group had gathered, a voice spoke out in excellent English, "Canadians, by Jove!

And two fine big chaps, too!"

The voice was friendly, but when I turned to look I could not see who had spoken.

Their pride in showing us off was "all right for them," but pretty hard on us, for it was a long time since we had slept, and we did not enjoy being paraded through the city just for fun.

We knew we were in for it, and wanted to know just what they were going to do with us.

At last they drew up with great ceremony before the Military Headquarters, where there was more challenging, by more guards.

I

think another guard fell in behind to see that we did not bolt, and we were conducted into the presence of the Supreme Commander of that Military District.

He sat at a high desk in the centre of the room.

There were several clerks or secretaries in the room, all in uniform, and there seemed to be considerable business going on when we came in, for numerous typewriters were going and messengers were moving about.

I noticed there was not a woman in the room.

When we entered and were swung up to the Commander's desk, with a few words of introduction, there was complete silence.

The soldiers who brought us in stepped back in a straight line, all in step, and waited to be congratulated, with that conscious air of work well done that a cat has when she throws down a mouse and stands around to hear the kind words which will be spoken.

The Supreme Commander was a grizzled man, with bushy gray eyebrows which were in great need of being barbered, red cheeks, and a curled-up mustache.

He spoke through an interpreter.

We were asked our names, ages, previous occupation, when captured, and the most important questions of all, "Why were we fighting against Germany?"

and, "Why did we want to leave Germany?"

I was questioned first, and after I had answered all the minor questions, I told him I enlisted in the Canadian Army because we considered ourselves part of the British Empire, and besides, Great Britain's share in the war was an honorable one which any man might well be proud to fight for.

I said we were fighting for the little nations and their right to live and govern themselves.

I told him it was the violation of Belgium that had set Canada on fire.

When this was passed on by the interpreter, I could see it was not well received, for the old man's eyebrows worked up and down and he said something which sounded like "Onions."

Then he asked me what did Canada hope to get out of the war?

I said, "Nothing"--Canada would gain nothing--but we had to maintain our self-respect, and we couldn't have kept that if we had not fought.

"But," I said, "the world will gain a great deal from the war, for it will gain the right to live at peace."

At the mention of peace, some of the officers laughed in contempt, but at a glance from the Supreme Commander, the laugh was checked with great suddenness!

He then asked me why I wanted to get out of Germany.

I told him no free man enjoyed being a prisoner, and besides, I was needed in the army.

All these answers were taken down by two secretaries, and Bromley was put through the same list of questions.

He told them no one in Canada had to fight, no one wanted to fight, because we are peaceable people, but we believe a little nation had a right to live, and we had been taught that the strong must defend the weak.

When they asked him why he wanted to get away from Germany, he told them he had a wife and two children in Canada, and he wanted to see them: whereupon the Commander broke out impatiently, "This is no time for a man to think of his wife and children!"

When the Supreme Commander was through with us, we were taken to the station and put on the train for Giessen, escorted by a Sergeant Major, who had an iron cross ribbon on his coat, and two privates.

We got a drink at a tap in the station and ate some bread and cheese from our pack, which they had not taken away from us, but they did not offer us anything to eat.

On the train, where we had a compartment to ourselves, one of the privates bought some fruit, and gave us a share of it.

Our German money had been taken away from us when they searched us, and we had nothing but prison-stamps, which are of no use outside the prison-camp.

One of the privates was a university man, and in broken English tried to tell us why Germany had to enter the war, to save herself from her enemies.

I thought his reasoning was more faulty than his English, but believed in his sincerity.

He told us that every nation in the whole world hated Germany and was jealous of "him," and that England was the worst of all.

He said England feared and hated the Bavarians most of all, and that all Bavarian prisoners were shot.

I tried to convince him that this was not so; but he was a consistent believer and stuck to it.

He said when Germany won the war "he" would be very kind to all the countries "he" conquered, and do well for them.

He told us he hated England, but not all "Engländers" were bad!

At Hanau we changed cars and had a few minutes to wait, and our guards walked up and down with us.

The station was crowded with people, and the lunch-tables were crowded, although it was getting late in the evening.

At Friedberg we had an hour's wait, and we saw the same thing.

Beer-drinking and eating was going on in a big lunch-room, but the patrons were ninety per cent men.

The Sergeant Major with the iron cross did not bother us at all, and at Friedberg he devoted himself to the young lady who sold cigars, beer, and post-cards in the station.

We asked our friend who could speak a little English what they were saying, but he, being a university man and of high degree socially, gave us to understand that the Sergeant Major was lowering his dignity to flirt with the girl behind the counter.

He said it was all "verrücktheit" (craziness).

We were of the opinion that it was the girl who was stepping down!

When we got into Giessen, they took us on the street-car to the prison-camp, and we were glad, for it had been a long day for us, and the thought of longer ones ahead was not cheering.

We were taken to the hut where the prison-guards sleep, and were given a room at the very end, where we would surely be safe.

We were tired enough not to give any trouble, and when they left us, we threw ourselves down without undressing and slept till morning.

At nine o'clock we were taken before the officers of our own Company, and put through the same questions.

The answers were written down, as before.

We were then marched away to the Strafe-Barrack.

The Strafe-Barrack had in it about thirty prisoners, but it was not nearly full.

These were all kept at one end of the hut, and at the other end there were three men whose official standing was somewhat of a mystery to us at first.

Two of them were Belgians, a private and a Sergeant, and one was a British Sergeant.

They were dressed like ordinary prisoners, but seemed to be able to go about at will.

We soon caught on to the fact that they were spies, whose business it was to watch the prisoners and repeat anything that would be of interest to the authorities.

During the five days we were kept there, waiting for "cells," we found them quite friendly.

CHAPTER X THE CELLS!

On the morning of the fifth day two cells were reported empty, and we were taken to them.

The cells are in a wooden building inside the camp, and in the building we were in there were ten of them, divided from each other by wooden partitions whose cracks are battened with strips of wood to prevent light from coming through.

There are two windows, one over the door and one in the outside wall.

These have a solid wooden door which can be shut over them, excluding every ray of light.

The cells are about six feet by eight in size, and have a wooden platform to sleep on.

There is no bedding of any kind.

There is one shelf, on which a pitcher of drinking-water stands, and there is an electric button by which the guard can be called.

We were allowed to keep all our clothing, including our overcoats, and I managed to hold on to a stub of a pencil and a piece of stout string.

When the guard brought me in and told me to "make myself at home" or words to that effect, and went out, locking the door, I sat down on the wooden platform, and looked around.

It was as black as the infernal regions--I might as well have had my eyes shut, for all I could see.

However, I kept on looking.

There was no hurry--I had time to spare.

I had more time than I had ever had before.

Soon I noticed that in the partition at my right there was a place where the darkness was broken, and a ray of light filtered through.

As I watched it, into the light spot there came two glistening points which looked very much like a pair of eyes.

I did not move, for I could hear the guards moving up and down the gangway, but I could hardly wait until I heard the gates of the gangway close.

Then I went to the crack and whispered.

"Hello!"

"Hello!"

came back the answer; and looking through the crack I saw a lighted cell, and in it a man, the owner of the two bright eyes I had seen.

"What are you?"

came a whisper.

"Canadian," I answered; "in for trying to escape."

By putting my ear to the crack, I could hear when he whispered.

"I am a Frenchman," he said in perfect English; "Malvoisin is my name, and this is my second attack of cells--for escaping--but I'll make it yet.

Have you the rings?

No?

Well, you'll get them.

Look at me."

I could see that his uniform had stripes of bright red wagon paint on the seams, and circles of it on the front of the tunic and on his trousers, with a large one on the back of the tunic between the shoulders.

"You'll get these when you get into the Strafe-Barrack," he said.

"How long shall I be there?"

I asked.

"Nobody knows," he answered.

"If they like you, they may keep you!

It's an indeterminate sentence....

That's a good cell you have.

I was in that cell the last time, and I fixed it up a little."

"What did you do to it?"

I asked.

"There's a built-in cupboard over at the other side, where you can keep your things!"

"Things!"

I said--"what things?

I've nothing but a pencil and a string."

"The boys will bring you stuff," he said; and then he gave me instructions.

"Write a note," he said.

"Here's a piece of paper," shoving a fragment of newspaper through the crack.

"Write a note addressed to one of your friends, tell him you are in cells, but get out every day to lavatory in Camp 8--they'll bring you food, and books."

"Books!"

I said.

"What good would books be to me in this black hole?"

"I am just coming to that," he whispered back; "there's a crack like this with a movable batten over on the other side.

You can stand on the platform, pull down the strip of wood, and get in quite a decent light from the other cell.

It is a light cell like mine; and right above it you'll find the board that is loose in the ceiling; you can pull it down and slip your book into the space and then let it up again."

I stepped over to the other side, and found everything just as he said.

Life grew brighter all at once, and the two weeks of "cells" were robbed of a great part of their terror.

I set to work to pull a nail with my cord, and was able to do it after considerable labor, but there was no hurry at all.

It all helped to put the long hours in!

With the nail I made the reading-crack larger, in anticipation of the books which were to come, but was careful not to have it too big for the strip of wood to cover when it was swung back into place.

When morning came I got my issue of bread, the fifth part of a small round loaf, which was my allowance for the day.

Then for ten minutes we all swept out our cells and were taken out to the lavatory.

I had my note ready, and when the guard was not looking, slipped it into the hand of a Frenchman who was standing near me.

The lavatory was in the same building as Camp 8 Lavatory, and was divided from theirs by a wall with an opening in it, through which parcels might be passed between the strands of barbed wire.

The Frenchman delivered my note quite safely, and the next morning I found several little packages on the floor of the lavatory.

Bromley and I managed to get out at the same time, and as the guard did not understand English, we were able to say a few words to each other.

The boys sent us things every day--chocolate, biscuits, cheese, cigarettes, matches, and books.

We wore our overcoats to the lavatory each day, so we could use the pockets to carry back our parcels without detection.

We were also careful to leave nothing in the cell that would attract the attention of the guard, and Malvoisin and I conserved matches by lighting one cigarette with the other one, through the crack.

Bromley had no reading-crack in his room, but with a nail and string soon made himself one.

Standing on the platform, I could open the reading-crack and get several inches of light on my book.

I read three or four books in this way, too, making them last just as long as I could.

On the fourth day I had light in my cell.

The two windows were opened and the cell was aired.

On the light day I got more to eat, too, coffee in the morning, and soup in the evening.

On that night I had a mattress and blankets, too.

Toward the end of my two weeks I had hard luck.

The cell next to mine, on which I depended for the light to read by, was darkened.

I

was right in the middle of "The Harvester."

I tried it by the crack between my cell and that of Malvoisin, but the light was too dim and made my eyes ache.

However, after two days a light-cell prisoner was put in, and I was able to go on with my story.

Malvoisin did all he could to make my punishment endurable.

On account of his cell being lighted, he could tell, by the sunlight on the wall, what time it was, and passed it on to me, and when I couldn't read because the cell next to mine was dark, he entertained me with the story of his adventures--and they were many!

His last escape had been a marvellous one--all but the end.

When outside of the grounds, on a digging party, he had entertained the guards so well, by showing them fancy steps in dancing, that they had not noticed that he was circling closer and closer to a wood.

Then, when he had made some grotesque movement, which sent the staid German guards into paroxysms of laughter, he had made a dash for the wood.

The soldiers at once surrounded the place, but Malvoisin had gone up a tree.

The guards fired through the woods, calling on him to surrender, while he sat safe and happy in one of the highest branches, watching the search for him.

The searching of the wood continued for two days, but he remained in his nest in the tree, coming down at night to get the food he had buried in the ground while on the digging party.

They gave up the search then, and he started for Switzerland.

He got a suit of painter's clothes at one place--overalls and smock--by going through a window where the painters had been working, and with his knowledge of German was passing himself off for a painter, and working toward home.

But his description was in the newspapers, and a reward offered for his capture.

His brilliant black eyes and the scar on his cheek gave him away, and one of his fellow-workmen became suspicious, and for the sake of the reward notified the military.

But he said he would be sure to reach home next time!

He had a week longer punishment than we had, and so when our two weeks were up we left him there.

When I said "Good-bye" to him through the crack, and tried to tell him how much he had done for me, he laughed light-heartedly and called back, "Good-bye, old man, I'll meet you in Paris--if not sooner!"

CHAPTER XI