But I recognized the guard and my astonishment was removed. It was indeed Paul. “Good Paul,” as the Russians called him, a French-Alsatian, as well known to the habitues of the detention barracks as “Mad Alek” and as cordially loved as the latter was hated. He had contrived to stay in the prison camp since the outbreak of the war with the one object of smoothing the jagged edges of captivity for Allied prisoners. Neither daily abuses from his German comrades nor the constant risk of punishment for himself had deterred him. Many a man will remember him gratefully for a timely rescue from wretched, gnawing hunger, many a man owes his escape from a Komando, which would have been equivalent to a death sentence to him, and the despondent hearts which have been warmed by a friendly word and a handshake from Paul would be difficult to estimate. We had the job of loading peat on the trucks behind the camp. After loading one truck, Paul, having explored the scene for official eyes in the meantime, put François on sentry. “You look out for _Unterofficieren_,” he directed, and turning to the rest of us, “Sit down on the peat baskets,” he said. “Here are cigarettes for some of you. And don’t any one work until I tell you!” “Is there anyone here,” he asked presently, knowing our hunger, “who has friends in the cage with food?” “_Ja_,” replied a Serbian and I. “Swap coats,” he said, “in case any of the guards know you, and push that truck in the gate.” I enjoyed a good tea with a sergeant of my regiment and we both returned with pockets bulging with food, which we divided with our comrades. We were all warmly grateful to Paul. “That’s only my business here,” he said, pleased. Whatever else may be done at the Peace Conference, I want the Allies to make a search of Germany and Alsace-Lorraine until they find one Paul Sanchez formerly attached to _X Kompanie, Ersatz Battalion_ of the German Army--a little man with a blonde mustache, and a kindly face--and give him a Victoria Cross! FOOTNOTES: [18] That is indeed war. [19] It is you, Paul. [20] François, my Old Mate! CHAPTER XVI _The World Turned Upsidedown_ I will detain you little with my life on my second German farm, for I was sent to a different one. One coincidence should be noted, however, the lady for whom I now worked had a brother in England, captured near Cambrai in the same battle in which I fell into German hands! This did not alter her attitude toward me, and my treatment here was worse than on the first farm.