The Germans had evacuated Bilsen some days ago, probably after being informed that a strong force of Belgians was coming on. As a matter of fact, only eleven Belgian soldiers had entered the townlet. These had pulled down the German flag from the town-hall and replaced it by the Belgian. The station and the railway were then closed to the public for a couple of hours, and in that time they pulled up the rails in two places. On Friday evening the Germans returned in great numbers by train from Tongres, and the train derailed on one of those places; but no lives were lost, as it went very slowly. The Germans had then taken it into their heads that the Belgians occupied Bilsen and the station, and began a terrific fire at the station and the surrounding houses, although there was not a single Belgian soldier in the whole town. When they had satisfied themselves that this was the case, they stopped firing, and were furious on account of the derailing and the mistake they had made. They then started a wild hunt for the men, and set about ten houses on fire, as also the signalman's cottage, because he had not warned them of the danger by waving his red flag. They made no allowance for the fact that they themselves had relieved all railway officials of their functions until later notification. The signalman was made a prisoner, but released subsequently. As soon as they began to chase the men, the greater part of the inhabitants fled in dire fear, most of them towards the Campine. In the fields and the shrubberies the Germans must have killed a good many of the male fugitives, and made the others prisoners. Among the latter were my six fellow-victims. That same Friday evening the women and children living in the Rue de la Station were told to leave their houses as the whole street was to be burned down. Everybody fled, but the design was not executed. The burgomaster and his son were taken prisoners, and brought to Tongres; later on the son was released; the Very Reverend the Dean was also arrested. The latter himself told me that he was released in order to instruct the vicars in the eighteen parishes of his deanery that they should inform their parishioners that the whole village would be burned and the inhabitants killed if the railway-line should be broken up, no matter whether it were done by Belgian soldiers or others. After I had been incarcerated for about two hours I was taken to the commanding officer, Major Krittel, or rather to one of his subordinates, Captain Spuer, who was having a violent altercation with his chief. The captain appeared to insist with great force that the whole place should be burned down and all the prisoners shot. But the major seemed to be a tolerably reasonable man, tried to soothe the captain, and at last put down his foot, saying that he had had enough. The captain, a rude, fat fellow, sat down at a desk and bellowed at me: "Here, swine!" I did not budge. "Here, swine!" "I am a Netherlander."