Sixteen Months in Four German Prisons: Wesel, Sennelager, Klingelputz, RuhlebenTalbot, Frederick Arthur Ambrose
History
Sixteen Months in Four German Prisons: Wesel, Sennelager, Klingelputz, Ruhleben
Talbot, Frederick Arthur Ambrose
World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons
The guards bustled round, supervising the hitching of the towing ropes,
while the men were lined up like oxen with the ropes passed over their
shoulders. The order was given and off we went. But that engine was, or
at least appeared to be, exceedingly heavy, while the roads seemed to be
exasperatingly difficult, the wheels having a magnetic attraction for
the sand. Progress was maddeningly slow, and before many minutes had
passed every man was puffing and blowing like a spent horse. A cup of
acorn coffee and a fragment of brown bread could scarcely be declared
ideal fare upon which to pursue such energy-consuming labour. And we had
three miles to go!
We had covered about half the distance and were nearly done in. The
ponderous, ungainly engine was just moving, and that was about all. The
progress had so fallen that the guards were becoming somewhat alarmed
and doubtless considered that if they only badgered us sufficiently they
would be able to spur us to such a degree as to enable us to reach the
camp.
While tugging for all we were worth we descried a horse flying along the
road at break-neck pace towards us. As it approached we saw it was
carrying Dr. Ascher. When he drew up to us he stopped. The guards were
holding forth in their most truculent manner at the moment. The doctor
rapped out a few words, and the guards instantly dropped their hostility
and arrogance to become as meek as lambs. Turning to us the doctor
ordered every man to drop the ropes. We did so and fell into line at
once of our own accord.
The doctor surveyed us, and we must have looked miserable specimens of
humanity. Our faces were glistening with perspiration which had been
pouring out of us freely, and which, mixing with the grimy sand which
had been enveloping us, had formed runnels wrought into a wild and weird
variety of fantastic designs. One or two of the weaker boys stood
half-bent as if upon the verge of dropping.
Within a few seconds the doctor had taken in the whole situation, and
saw how completely we were played out. With a voice which cut like a
knife he ordered the guard to escort us to a wayside inn. The soldiers,
thoroughly cowed, obeyed his instructions silently. He strode along
beside us, distracting our thoughts by a dissertation concerning the
countryside, which was bathed in the full splendour of its autumn garb,
and which certainly presented a peaceful and entrancing aspect.
Reaching the inn we seated ourselves on the balcony. Then the doctor,
turning, remarked:
"Order what you like! Don't stint yourselves and take your time. Now
then have anything you wish to drink!"
If our guards had been sufficiently relenting, we would willingly have
paid them for permission to have regaled ourselves by the way at our own
expense. We all had money. At the doctor's instructions we dived our
hands into our pockets to extract our worldly wealth to ascertain what
we could afford. The doctor arrested our action.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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