A Captive At Carlsruhe And Other German Prison Camps
Joseph Lee
31 chapters
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31 chapters
The Vulture
The Vulture
We discovered that by climbing on to the frame of the iron bedstead, and clutching perilously at the ventilating portion of the window in our cell, we could just succeed in gaining a glimpse of the street. To the right we seemed to be in the neighbourhood of a zoological garden or an aviary of some dimension. The only inhabitant of the cages visible to us, however, was a large vulture, which sat there day after day, an unchanging picture of sullenness and stolidity. I wondered if perchance it sc
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First Letters and Parcels
First Letters and Parcels
The coming of one’s first letter was a memorable event in camp life. The immediate impulse was to retire with it to the remotest corner of the court—as a dog with a bone, or a lover with a billet-doux —and there devour it, and for days after one was continually impelled to a re-perusal. A Portuguese officer who had made a vow, Nazarite-wise, not to shave or cut his hair until such time as news would come from the far country, was three and a half months in camp before he received his first lette
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Christmas at Carlsruhe
Christmas at Carlsruhe
On Christmas Day, the Germans, if they could not give us peace on earth, probably made effort at an expression of goodwill even to Gefangenen ! Dinner, at all events, consisted of soup, potatoes, an ounce or two of meat, one pound of eating apples, and a quarter of a litre of red wine—decidedly a red litre day! Christmas trees were raised and decorated in the salon d’appel ; the Camp Commandant gave gifts to all the orderlies; a raffle, organized by the French officers, took place, when I was so
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A Lecture on Abyssinia
A Lecture on Abyssinia
THE REV. MR. FLAD. The Rev. Father Daniels, the Roman Catholic priest to whom I have referred, made regular visitation to the camp, and we had, furthermore, occasional ministration from a Protestant divine, the Rev. Mr. Flad. This gentleman appeared in our midst with great suddenness one morning, and there was much ado to beat up a creditable congregation for him. This ultimately being forthcoming, and at the moment when the pastor was inviting us to accompany him with a pure heart to the Throne
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“The Homeland”
“The Homeland”
While we were thus making effort to entertain ourselves within the camp, outside in the Fest Theatre in Carlsruhe there was a performance, for the benefit of the Eighth War Loan, of “The Homeland,” a war vision by Leo Sternburg. A translation of this appeared in the Continental Times , a ridiculous and half-illiterate propaganda sheet which we could receive thrice weekly at a cost of 2.70 marks per month. The scene is the battlefield. Ahasuerus, the Wandering Jew, moves amid the dead men that li
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Clinging to Office
Clinging to Office
However unwillingly officers may have come to Carlsruhe, there was always a certain loathness to leave for another camp, on the principle, doubtless, that it is better to “bear those ills we have, than fly to others that we know not of.” There was something hugely diverting in the tenacity with which prisoners clung to whatever shred of office or appointment they could lay claim to. The members of the Cabinet cannot be more reluctant to leave hold of their portfolios than were the Gefangenen to
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A Straining of the Entente
A Straining of the Entente
Even in this quiet retreat, however, one could not count on being entirely free from faction and fight. On an otherwise quiet Sunday afternoon, an English aviator at the piano and a French officer with a violin have fallen into feud over a matter of musical precedence, and within a few feet of each other are playing at the same time entirely different tunes, and that with vehemence and vindictiveness. The pianist, firmly planted on the piano stool, where he has spent most of the day, passes with
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A “Stirring Time”
A “Stirring Time”
There was one respect in which we could quite legitimately claim to be having a stirring time in camp, and that was as regards our ceaseless culinary operations. Recurrently as cook it was one’s duty to see that the members of one’s mess did not perish of starvation, surfeit, or ptomaine poisoning. Frequently with inadequate means as regards fuel, so that I have suggested to an officer endeavouring to thaw tinned sausage over burning paper that he might try Thermogene! Personally I achieved some
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An Inimitable Imitator
An Inimitable Imitator
Sometimes, after “lights out,” a warning siren would be blown in camp, which, to the initiated, simply made warning that Captain Teixeira, our inimitable imitator, had been induced good-naturedly to give a performance. Then might be heard the Captain sawing his way to freedom, to the bringing in of the disconcerted guard. Followed imitation of all the fowls in the farmyard, and all the feathers in the forest, or, most humorous of all, “an infant crying in the night, and with no language but a cr
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A German Bombardment
A German Bombardment
One afternoon German aviators bombarded the camp—very harmlessly, however—with broadsheets, and not with bombs. After an exciting race and scrum I succeeded in securing a copy. It was in the form of a child’s catechism, with as heading a quaint woodcut of a town on the Rhine. It commenced: “Mother: My child, lovst thou thy Fatherland? Son: Yes, mother, Yes, with my whole heart. Mother: Why lovst thou thy Fatherland? Son: Because there was I cradled.” It ended with an appeal for the Eighth War Lo
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The Bath Attendant
The Bath Attendant
The soldiers on sentry duty were rarely unfriendly, though they were forbidden to have any intercourse with the prisoners. Certain functionaries, however, we, of necessity, got to know more intimately. Entering the bathing hut one morning, the attendant—a new man, youthful, and of healthy and happy appearance; his predecessor was the most morose and doubtless liverish of Germans—was reading a book with a lurid cover giving an account of the U-boat campaign. He made endeavour to hide the volume f
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Our Orderlies
Our Orderlies
Our orderlies, like ourselves, were of various nationality, but there was a consensus of opinion that the genius of the French soldier seemed to lie most in the direction of that office. I, at all events, was fortunate in my Frenchmen. First was our faithful Gustav—breaker of cups and not too scrupulous a cleaner of the same, but nevertheless a kindly and willing servant and a shrewd. When one morning, amid great excitement and much embracing and kissing upon both cheeks by his countrymen, Gusta
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Linguistic Efforts
Linguistic Efforts
If we did not subsist by taking in each other’s laundry we possibly survived death from ennui by teaching each other languages. As I read I can hear Dr. Griffin’s deliberate and enunciating voice. He is our most proficient of professors, and is giving a French officer a lesson in English, with special reference to the pronunciation. “The knife of the boy and the stick of the man. Have you the pen of the sister?” Two wounded officers are pushed in through the gates—one in a bath chair, the other
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Last Day in Carlsruhe
Last Day in Carlsruhe
On Friday morning the 5th July, between six and seven, “Hans” entered our room, and fixing a sorrowful eye upon me—as one who should enter the condemned cell to announce that it is approaching eight o’clock—commenced his customary formula, “Well, gentlemen, I’m sorry——” I knew that the hour of my departure had come, and, before he had finished speaking, had mentally begun to pack up. LIEUT. LAZZARI My chief emotion was exhilaration at the notion of a change of environment after just two hundred
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The Kantine and the Catering
The Kantine and the Catering
We had a Kantine , run by a civilian named Herr Solomon, who, however, because of his dilatoriness, and an easy deferring until to-morrow of what should have been ordered to-day, was always known as “Morgen, Morgen!” The Kantine , which was open daily from 11 to 1, and 5 to 7 evening, contained a selection of commodities ranging from a lager beer—which was very essentially a Lager beer—to a solitary example of a variation of Sandow’s chest-expander, for which no purchaser was ever forthcoming. S
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“Much Reading——!”
“Much Reading——!”
Immediately on our arrival at Beeskow I was appointed to the enviable post of librarian, but found myself in the unenviable position of having no library. I accordingly placed upon the notice board the following urgent appeal: “ONLY ONE BOOK!” This rather tickled the camp, including the German officers, who immediately responded with a gift of some twenty volumes. Unfortunately, these were entirely in German, through which only one or two of the officers could even spell their way, but they were
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We Walk Abroad
We Walk Abroad
Having adhibited our signatures to a form of parole stipulating that we should not make effort to escape, under penalty of death, during such time as we were out for exercise, on the third or fourth day after our arrival we went out for a walk under conduct of Lieut. Kruggel. Beeskow is a country town of four or five thousand inhabitants, and possesses certain streets picturesque and paintable. There is a red-brick church, with a steeple and a great sloping roof. On the old walls, which still st
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Birds of a Feather
Birds of a Feather
In the little courtyard three or four white fan-tailed pigeons fluttered about the roofs, like peace birds prematurely arrived from oversea, while on the other side of the barbed wire was a small colony of rabbits and poultry and pigs, the property of the German guard. Then there was Jacob, a ferocious and fearless jackdaw with clipped wings, who was not indisposed to be friendly, however. Certainly we were companions in misfortune, my wings not less thoroughly clipped than his. Ultimately, whil
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The Flight that Failed
The Flight that Failed
One day I had been sketching the interior of the Marienkirche at Beeskow, a sentry with loaded rifle sitting by me in the silent church. He informed me that he also was an artist, but with his feet and not his hands, and that he had danced at the London Hippodrome. That night, after roll-call, the German, Lieutenant Stark, expressed a desire to see the drawing. As it was dark, I practically impelled him for a few paces to the arc-lamp at the gate, at the very moment when three Captains courageou
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Ragging the Commandant
Ragging the Commandant
There is a piece of music of amazing eccentricity and extravagance, yclept “By Heck,” by Henri. It is what is known as a “Fox Trot,” and, as recorded for the gramophone, is played by the Metropolitan Band. We were sufficiently mischievous one morning to arrange that it commence its erratic riot at an open window immediately the word “ Achtung! ” from the Feldwebel announced the arrival of the Commandant on parade. The scheme worked beyond wildest imaginings. One blow from the hammer upon the old
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“His Excellency Wishes”
“His Excellency Wishes”
On a certain day in August, the result doubtless of our continual complaint as to conditions in the Lager , His Excellency General Waldhausen, Inspector of Prisoner of War Camps, paid us a visit. Rather a soldierly type this old General, with gruffness and kindliness apparently continually contending for the mastery. He shook hands with the Colonel and some of the senior officers, and asked the name of each of the others—to what purpose I cannot conceive, as most of these names could convey noth
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For the Dead
For the Dead
The Sunday after the signing of the Armistice a score of us attended morning service. We had seats in one of the galleries facing the pulpit, so that we could participate without being too conspicuously present. As it was, the congregation evinced no undue curiosity, though the three or four choir boys in the organ loft seemed to accept us gratefully as something of a spectacle for the enlivening of a dull day. The congregation was very sparse, and consisted mostly of elderly women, sombre, sorr
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A Polish Baptism
A Polish Baptism
In our walks abroad we have frequently passed a humble little chapel, which has been built for the numerous Poles who work on the farms in the neighbourhood. One Sunday forenoon in October, when hints and hopes of peace were in the air, I accompanied the padre and the Roman Catholic party in camp to this chapel, and was witness of a very interesting and picturesque baptismal ceremony. The low-roofed room with its humble altar at one end, its walls hung with the stations of the cross, and perfora
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Adventures Afoot
Adventures Afoot
On the outskirts of Beeskow was a great Kaserne or barracks of the Garde-Feldartillerie-Regiments, from which in the morning we could sometimes hear the bugle sing reveille. This is not dissimilar to our own, and carries the same suggestion in it of the ascending sun. In those dreary and difficult days the same heavy and uneasy suggestion also, that it falls upon many ears as unwishful to hear it as they would the Last Trump on Judgment Morn. Sometimes we would meet a company of German soldiers
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The Passing of the Commandant
The Passing of the Commandant
On Sunday morning, as it transpired, we paraded before the old Commandant for the last time. Shortly after Appell he was waited upon by a delegation from the men, headed by a stout corporal who in peace time is a North Sea fisherman, and informed that his services were no longer required. With a touch of pride the corporal told me of his part in the deposition. When informed that he must resign, “ Warum? ” inquired the Commandant. This was explained, but he still demurred. “I must wait,” said he
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Latitudes and Liberties
Latitudes and Liberties
Under the new regime our privileges were considerably extended. A few days after the Armistice, for instance, we were permitted to be present at a cinematographic entertainment. The show was held in a rather dull and sad little hall, on the roof and walls of which, however, some artist had made valiant efforts at decoration with impossible pots and vases of impossible roses—neither white, nor red, nor even blue. Behind the screen was a suggestion of a small stage, on which, doubtless, tragedy hi
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Sketching in the Streets
Sketching in the Streets
I was now allowed to sketch freely in the streets without hindrance or interruption, save for the presence of the younglings, which, after all, need not prove distracting or disconcerting. On the contrary, it may be even stimulating. Their criticism, for one thing, is largely enthusiastic, and this sometimes proves contagious. “ Fein! ” “ Hübsch! ” The pencil probably makes effort to prove worthy of such compliment. Then again, there is generally something patient and gently apologetic in the pr
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A Soldiers’ Ball
A Soldiers’ Ball
I cannot dance, but there is always a portion of the ball, at least, to the beholder. Captain Sugrue and I had looked into the Gasthaus at the Railway Crossing. It was an animated scene which met our eyes. The saloon was decorated with flags and festoons of red roses, while about eighty couples, composed of German soldiers and their sweethearts—these last with countenances of a colour to match the decorations—danced on almost without cessation. Certainly there were intervals, but these were of t
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Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg
Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg
Now approaches a great procession of men and women, silent, sad, slow-moving, sombre-hued save for the red banners which here and there droop into the ranks and show through the trees like gouts of blood. It is the Spartacusbundes Party, with Liebknecht and Rosa Luxemburg at their head. They are doubtless come to mourn their dead of yesterday and to demand redress and revenge. The procession winds its way through the paths, and ultimately the speakers take up position beside the statue of one of
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Captivity de Luxe!
Captivity de Luxe!
Behold next morning two British Gefangenen in the capital of Germany, pillowed luxuriously in bed, pulling the bell-rope insistently, and, a waiter appearing, making demands for an immediate serving of coffee. Not only so, but having search made in the German Bradshaw for the hour of departure of the train which was to convey us back to prison, and the time at which we could attend a celebration of Mass. St. Hedewick is a great circular cathedral, not without a certain impressiveness, particular
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Freedom and Farewell
Freedom and Farewell
It has come at last! And now that it has at last come it has not brought that immediate and amazing emotion of exultation which we had imagined and anticipated so long. We are leaving for Home — To-day —in a few hours! The brain receives the message, grasps it apparently, and passes it on to the heart. The heart hears, doubtless, yet it only says, soberly, even sadly, “Yes, that is so.” Perhaps later, after many days; after months; in after-years, maybe, there will be the full realization that w
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