On Saturday evening, the 9th November, an _Extrablatt_, announcing the “Abdankung des Kaisers,” found its way into camp, and created some little excitement. At Beeskow we were within breathing distance of Berlin, one might say, and we almost seemed to be haunted by a vision of that haunted man who had striven, in his own egotistical way, to fashion his country, and who seemed destined to see it shattered into shards. There was a rumour that the officer at the _Kaserne_ had been deposed, and, in expectation of trouble, all the shops in Beeskow closed at six o’clock. In the dark outside we heard two or three shots, but no one seemed able to explain them. 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, “for instructions from headquarters.” “We give you your instructions,” replied the corporal, “and you must go.” Thereupon the old man wept. “_Er weinet_,” said the corporal, and he drew a finger from his eye downward to demonstrate. Greater than the Commandant wept in these days, I take it! While we talked, standing on the road by the playing-field, came along the civilian, who succeeded eventually in transferring to my possession a copy of the _Times_ for 29th October containing a sensational discussion in the Reichstag, and also a slip of paper folded to a spill on which he had pencilled the terms of the armistice. Over the barracks we found that the Imperial flag had been shorn of its black and white strips, and that only a thin red shred stood out menacingly in the wind from the staff. A picket, with arms piled, was posted at the forked roads, and from the caps of all the soldiers the badges had been torn. These men more than ever seemed disposed to be fraternal; indeed, as we passed the _Kaserne_ some of the soldiers at the windows shouted out that they would be glad to play us a game of football now. They deposed the Major who was in charge of the barracks, and the Medical Officer--he of the dashing manner and the Airedale terrier, who visited us for inoculatory purposes--had also to go. The Major and his young daughter were in a hotel when the soldiers demanded an audience. The Major endeavoured to escape by a back entrance, but was held, and had the humiliation of having his epaulets torn off, while his sword was broken and the pieces handed to the children standing around. So we had the story.