I have quoted this passage as I have not the least wish to give a merely _couleur de rose_ picture of the situation. Human nature is, I fear, everywhere very much the same, and, once its passions are aroused, extremely credulous of evil against its opponents. Only one thing in the account a little surprises me, and that is the colonel’s order. If the officer was a colonel, would a subaltern be able quietly to countermand his orders? Is there not some mistake of rank here, or perhaps a misunderstanding of an angry exclamation? TORGAU. The populace at Torgau called them swine with variations—all of which, alas, is exactly what has been done, in some cases, by the populace on our side too. At Torgau “the Commandant was a Prussian reservist officer with a long heavy moustache. We were told [by the other prisoners] that he was courteous and considerate in every respect, and that, provided we took care, to salute him whenever we passed him, we should find him everything we could reasonably wish.” And later, “It was a subject of universal regret when the first Commandant resigned his position.” DOGS. A great deal has been made of the use of dogs in some prison camps. The following is the account given in Mr. O’Rorke’s book (page 41): As time went on our numbers increased to about 230 British officers, and 800 French officers joined us from Maubeuge, including four generals. One of the latter had been interned in Torgau before, in the 1870 war, and had made good his escape. The authorities guarded against the recurrence of such an eventuality on the present occasion, their most elaborate precaution being the enlistment of dogs to reinforce their sentries. Their barkings could be heard occasionally by night, but their presence disturbed neither our repose nor our equanimity. It is worth while to quote from a report made by Dr. Ohnesorg and Mr. Dresel on Wittenberg in March, 1916: The police dogs are not now a cause of complaint on the part of the prisoners.—(_Miscel_. 16 [1916] p. 85). Dr. Austin in “My Experiences as a German Prisoner” writes: For a long time previous to our arrival at Magdeburg we had been informed that large and savage dogs were to be provided to aid the sentries.... They were certainly savage enough, but were always led by a sentry, or chained in their den, and were never let loose on us. (p. 141). To return to Chaplain O’Rorke’s narrative: “When we first arrived [the barrack warder] had adopted the rôle of gaoler in his demeanour towards us, but after a while he became civil and deferential, and—when his son was captured in the war—actually sympathetic.” (p. 45.) At Torgau “the meals, though far from sumptuous and not always palatable, were sufficient for our needs.” (p. 43.) BURG.