It was Lincoln, I think, who said to be prepared for the opportunity so when it knocked it could be accepted. Well, regardless of who said it, my life’s ambition was before me. I had always wanted to plead a righteous cause before a court—but I had never calculated that the righteous cause would be my own. This was nothing more than a court and I was to be the culprit appearing in my own behalf. The proceedings had all the environment of a rural police court with the solemnity and dignity of the Supreme Court of the United States. So much pomp and red tape I never saw before in my life. The Sergeant went in, clicked his heels together, saluted smartly and proceeded to babble away in German. The Prussian officer looked up from his desk and snarled, whereupon the Sergeant saluted again. Then he faced about, walked four paces toward me, saluted and said with great feeling, “The Captain commanding the camp commands your presence.” I wasn’t a soldier in the true sense of the word. I was an aviator. I was a real snappy soldier once, having been graduated from the New Mexico Military Institute; and, having had some training in the line on the border and in the early training camps. Since my judge seemed so strong on display, I decided to compete for the prize, so I drew my shoulders back, put my chest out and pulled my tummy in. As if by command and, by the numbers, I marched four paces forward, clicked my heels together and in perfect cadence brought my hand forward in a salute. Instead of bringing it down in the ordinary manner, I pushed it straight forward and let it slap loudly against my trousers. It sounded like the snapping of a champion bootblack’s cloth as he finishes the job. The Captain stood, saluted and immediately sat down. I thought he would ask me to have a chair, but it wasn’t being done by the Prussians in those days so I stood there strictly at attention looking directly at him like a tiger ready to spring. In a few moments he got up again, holding a document long and engrossed. Clearing his throat like a Chief Justice about to render an opinion, he proceeded to babble, “Der Deutschen, etc.” After one mouthful, he turned to the Sergeant and the Sergeant stiffened up even more rigidly and began to interpret. I cannot repeat it verbatim, of course, but it went something like this, not vouching for the accuracy of the names: “Whereas, I, Antonio Mark Snicklefritz, Captain of the Imperial German Army, duly appointed and ordained by the Imperial German Government through Wilhelm, Emperor of Germany and Poland, in his own name, am entrusted with the command of and authority over this Prison Camp at Landshut, Bavaria, including all allied prisoners of war therein, do officially, on behalf of the Imperial German Government, inform you, Oberleutnant Elmer Haslett, Amerikaner, an Officer of the Air Service, that the General of the Imperial German Army, Otto von Beetpots, commanding the