Life in this small room was unique and full of intimate comradeship. My colleagues were, apart from N., a huge Bavarian infantry soldier of the Body Guards Regiment, whose nickname was “Schorsch,” and who acted as our cook; a nimble and clever private in the Hussars from Lorraine, a policeman by profession; and also two splendid rifle guards of gigantic stature, genuine blond Frisians. After a week we received a seventh guest. This was the sub-lieutenant H., the observer whom the English had fished out of the North Sea with his pilot, after they had been drifting about on the wrecked machine for over forty hours. The comradeship in this room was ideal. The men had all been taken prisoners at the great retreat of the Marne, and, as was to be expected, these splendid fellows had only fallen into the enemy’s hands when severely wounded. They were of such fine disposition, and showed such burning love for their country, that my heart filled with pride and satisfaction. The evenings were especially pleasant. We contrived a rough game with a board and some pieces of cork, and gambled on _petits chevaux_ regularly every night with childish delight. But the real fun began when we started exchanging experiences. Everything was new to me, and I was happy to learn at last from first-hand information of our splendid battle and triumphs. Every afternoon 300 to 400 prisoners, of course closely guarded by English soldiers, were led out for their exercise, which took them into the lovely open country. I often accompanied them. All the time our soldier songs were sung; but with particular force and ecstasy when we marched through the town, going and returning, “The Watch on the Rhine” and “O Germany, high in honours!” Imagine 300 or 400 of our picked men, our victorious troops under General von Kluck! The English population behaved even then with the utmost restraint, and never uttered a word of abuse or a threat. The sergeant-major told me of a very nice episode. When Major Owen and Captain Mitchell were appointed to the camp, their wives implored them not to go among the “Huns” without escort and without being heavily armed. The two old soldiers, however, kept their own counsel, and were—not devoured! After a time they suggested to their wives that they should visit the camp and convince themselves that the German soldiers were quite normal people and not monsters as portrayed by the press. Naturally, at first the ladies fainted away. But after much persuasion, and being assured of a bodyguard, they ventured upon entering their husbands’ offices and watched the doings of the German soldiers. The news of the visit got about, and silently our male choir assembled under the windows and warbled forth its finest songs. I am told that the ladies were so deeply moved that they were unable to speak, and could not hold back bitter tears. From thence onwards they often came and showed much kindness to our men. Another story also is very typical.