"Drop me a line when you get to Berlin, will you?" shouted another in broken English. "When shall we see you again?" asked a third. "Remember me to your friends, will you? You'll find plenty where you're going!" shouted another. The German officers made no effort to repress the crowd; in fact, they joined in the general laughter which followed every sally. I called to a German officer who was passing our window. "You're an officer, aren't you?" I asked, respectfully enough. "Yes. What of it?" he rejoined. "Well, in England," I said, "we let your officers who are prisoners ride first-class. Can't you fix it so that we can be similarly treated, or be transferred at least to a second-class compartment?" "If I had my way," he replied, "you'd ride with the hogs!" Then he turned to the crowd and told them of my request and how he had answered me, and they all laughed hilariously. This got me pretty hot. "That would be a damned sight better than riding with the Germans!" I yelled after him, but if he considered that a good joke, too, he didn't pass it on to the crowd. Some months later when I had the honor of telling my story to King George he thought this incident was one of the best jokes he had ever heard. I don't believe he ever laughed harder in his life. Before our train pulled out our guards had to present their arms for inspection, and their rifles were loaded in our presence to let us know that they meant business. From the moment the train started on its way to Germany the thought kept coming to my head that unless I could make my escape before we reached that reprisal camp I might as well make up my mind that, as far as I was concerned, the war was over. It occurred to me that if the eight of us in that car could jump up at a given signal and seize those four Hun guards by surprise, we'd have a splendid chance of besting them and jumping off the train when it first slowed down, but when I passed the idea on to my comrades they turned it down. Even if the plan had worked out as gloriously as I had pictured, they pointed out, the fact that so many of us had escaped would almost inevitably result in our recapture. The Huns would have scoured Belgium till they had got us and then we would all be shot. Perhaps they were right. Nevertheless, I was determined that, no matter what the others decided to do, I was going to make one bid for freedom, come what might. As we passed through village after village in Belgium and I realized that we were getting nearer and nearer to that dreaded reprisal camp, I concluded that my one and only chance of getting free before we reached it was through the window! I would have to go through that window while the train was going full speed, because if I waited until it had slowed up or stopped entirely, it would be a simple matter for the guards to overtake or shoot me.