In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in PolandMorse, John
History
In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland
Morse, John
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Poland; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British
But champagne was not what I wanted, so I looked round till I found a
huge teapot. The face of the maid was expressionless, but she was not
lacking in intelligence. The Russians are great tea-drinkers, and I soon
had a good breakfast before me, with plenty of the refreshing beverage.
A Russian breakfast differs much from an English early morning meal, but
on this occasion I contrived to obtain bacon and eggs, which, in spite
of all doctors and economists say to the contrary, is one of the best
foods in existence for travelling or fighting on.
Before I had well finished this meal one of the riotous officers came
downstairs. He made a sudden stop when he saw me, and blinked and winked
like an owl in sunlight, for he had had plenty of liquor. He asked some
question, and as I could not very well sit like a speechless booby, I
replied in my own language.
"Good-morning," rather dryly, I am afraid.
"An English pig!" he exclaimed.
"An Englishman," I corrected.
[At least 50 per cent. of German officers speak English quite fluently,
and an even greater number French, learned in the native countries of
these languages.]
"Bah-a-a-a!" he exclaimed, prolonging the interjection grotesquely. "Do
you know that we have wrecked London, blown your wonderful Tower and
Tower Bridge and your St. Paul's to dust, killed your King, and our
Zeppelins are now wrecking Manchester and Liverpool and your other fine
manufacturing towns?"
"Nonsense!" I said.
"It is true, I assure you," he replied.
The news sent a terrible thrill through my nerves, for I did not yet
know what liars Germans could be, and I did not think a Prussian officer
could stoop to be so mendacious a scoundrel as this fellow proved to be.
"Then there is war between England and Germany?" I asked, wondering at
its sudden outbreak. "When was it declared?"
"It is not declared. We have taken time by the forelock, as you British
say--as we mean to take it with all who dare to oppose us. You are a
stinking Englishman, and I'll have you shot!" he concluded furiously.
Going to the foot of the stairs, he began to call to his companions,
reviling the English, and declaring that there was a spy below. As his
drunken comrades did not hear him or immediately respond, he ascended
the stairs, and I took the opportunity to put down some money for my
breakfast, catch up my bag, and escape from the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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