Sixteen Months in Four German Prisons Part 15

"Ach!" he hissed with a violent expectoration, "They fired upon our brave comrades in Belgium. They rang the bells of their churches to summon the women to the windows to fire upon our brothers as they pa.s.sed. The dogs! We'll show them! We'll break them before we have finished. They won't want to murder our brave troops again!"

The words were jerked out with such fearful fury that I refrained from pursuing the subject. Later I had a chat with one of the oldest priests.

It was only with difficulty we could understand one another, but it was easy to discover that the charges were absolutely unfounded, and were merely the imagination of the distorted and savage Prussian mind when slipped from the leash to loot, a.s.sault and kill for the first time in his life.

A night or two later a few of us were purchasing food at the canteen.

Suddenly four soldiers came tumbling in, dragging with them one of the most aged of the Fathers. He must have been on the verge of three-score and ten, and with his long white beard he presented an impressive, proud, and stately figure. But the inflamed Prussian has no respect for age. The old man was bludgeoned against the counter and at his abortive attempts to protect himself the soldiers jeered and laughed boisterously.

One of the soldiers called for a suit of clothes which was served out to prisoners, and for which we were supposed to pay six marks--six s.h.i.+llings. The leader of the party of soldiers grabbed the suit and, pus.h.i.+ng the priest roughly, shouted,

"Here! You can't work in the fields with that garb you are wearing.

You've got to buy these. Six marks! Hurry up! You've got to put them on!"

The priest, who did not understand a word of German, naturally failed to grasp the meaning of the command. He promptly received a clout to knock some sense into him, the soldier meanwhile shaking the prison-like suit to emphasise what he meant.

In mute protest the priest shook his robes to indicate that he was quite content with what he was wearing.

"Come on! If you don't change we'll do it for you!"

At this threat there was a wild outburst of demoniacal mirth, in which the girl behind the counter, a brazen jade, joined uproariously as if in antic.i.p.ation of some unusual amus.e.m.e.nt. She reached over the counter, craning her neck to secure a better view of an unexpected spectacle.

As the Reverend Father did not respond to the command, the guard gathered round him. Before we could realise what was happening, his crucifix and rosary had been roughly torn off, and with his watch and chain had been thrown upon a table standing alongside. His robe was roughly whisked away in the twinkling of an eye. But the prisoner did not move or raise a hand in protest, even when he was bared to his under-clothing in front of fraulein, who signalled her appreciation of the sight by wildly clapping her hands, laughing merrily, and giving expression to ribald jokes.

The proud manner in which the victim surveyed his tormentors only exasperated them still further. By the threat of the bayonet he was compelled to stand up in front of these degenerate members of the human race and the girl behind the counter, whose laughter could now be heard ringing above the frantic shrieks of the soldiers.

We, who were unwilling witnesses of this revolting spectacle, were grinding our teeth in ill-suppressed rage. Never during my sojourn in Sennelager, even when submitted to the greatest torment, have I seen the British prisoners roused to such a pitch of fury. As a rule we effectively maintained a quiet, if not indifferent, and tractable att.i.tude, but this was more than flesh and blood could stand.

But the priest never relaxed his proud composure and self-possession. He looked so penetratingly at the laughing jade that I think it must have penetrated into her very soul. Her wild mirth ended abruptly in a strange semi-hysterical shriek as her eyes met his look of intense scorn. She winced and was effectively cowed into silence.

I may say that the floor of the canteen was of concrete, but upon this was a layer of mud, slime, grease, and other filth brought in from outside upon the boots of those who frequented the establishment. This was now a noisome muddy carpet some two inches in thickness. The Germans, one may happen to recollect, have ever paraded their love of cleanliness before the world, but this floor was the lie direct to their vain boastings.

At the sight of the old man standing there erect before them, the victim of unparalleled humiliation, but his spirit as strong and as unyielding as ever, the fury of the soldiers knew no bounds. One, giving vent to a fearful curse, placed his hand on the table upon which the crucifix, rosary, and watch were lying. He gave a swift, fiendish glance at the priest towering above him, and with a vile oath swept the articles to the floor, where they ploughed through the greasy revolting slime.

It was then that the badgered and baited Father broke down. As he watched his beloved and revered crucifix and rosary suffering defilement and serving as the rude sport for the iron heels of the uncivilised Huns, the tears coursed down his face copiously. He gave a slight start as he saw the articles flash through the air, but suppressed the cry of horror which sprang inadvertently to his lips.

But the soldiers were not yet satisfied with the agony which they had created in the Father's heart. One grabbed his rifle and lowering the bayonet in a threatening manner ordered the priest to pick up his sacred treasures. The priest stooped down to obey the instructions, but this was not sufficient for his persecutors. He was driven to his knees and forced to grope among the repulsive mud for his revered religious tokens. With great difficulty he recovered them, battered, crushed, and covered with the filthy acc.u.mulation upon the floor. As the Reverend Father drew himself once more to his full height, clasping his treasures desperately, he brought his hands together, and closing his eyes, we saw his lips moving in prayer.

This was the last straw. Grating our teeth, our faces white with pa.s.sion, and our fingers itching to seize those barbarians round their throats to choke their lives out of them, we nearly threw discretion to the winds. Had one of us made a forward movement we should have sprung upon them with the ferocity of bull-dogs. Those four soldiers never knew how near they were to meeting their deserts upon that day. As it was we merely sc.r.a.ped our feet in impotent rage. It was this fidgeting which aroused their attention. They turned and must have read our innermost intentions written in our faces, for they instantly grabbed their rifles and rounded upon us. With a motion which could not be misunderstood, and uttering fierce curses, they ordered us to get outside. We refused to move, although confronted by ugly pointed bayonets. It was a tense and critical moment. The soldiers undoubtedly saw that we were now thoroughly roused, and, strange to say, they appeared to lose their heads, for they stood stock still, apparently frightened by our determined appearance.

One of our party, although as enraged as any of us, yet had maintained more complete control over his feelings. He saw the utter uselessness of our making a display of physical protest. With a quiet "Come on, boys!"

he stepped towards the door. It saved an ugly situation; the movement to the door and the crisis had pa.s.sed. Fiercely glaring at the soldiers, with our jaws ominously set, and our fists clenched we retreated. Our action revived the courage of the guards. They at once sprang forward to jostle us out, prodding and attempting to club us right and left.

As we hurried through the open door we gave a final glance at the priest. He had turned his head and was looking steadily at us, and if ever conversation were carried out by looks there were volumes in his gaze. His eyes told us how impotent we were in the hands of these brutes who were brave because they had their loaded rifles. They told us of his appreciation of our sympathy in his hour of humiliation and torment.

They extended us heartfelt thanks for our willingness to come to his a.s.sistance, combined with a mute instruction not to lift a finger on his behalf since the plight of one and all would become infinitely worse. We pa.s.sed into the street and the door was slammed upon us.

Once outside we allowed our feelings to have full rein. We point-blank refused to go away and fell to discussing the situation somewhat fiercely. Evidently the tones of our voices persuaded the soldiers within that they had gone far enough, because shortly afterwards the priest re-appeared, and under escort was hurried away to his quarters.

When we next saw him we endeavoured by diplomatic questions to ascertain the reason why he had been subjected to such torture and indignity. To him the greatest humiliation was that his torment had occurred before a woman. But otherwise he refused to refer to the episode. His retort, in a placid, resigned voice, was, "I only trust that G.o.d will have mercy upon them!"

The priests were denied all opportunity to move about the camp. There were scores of co-religionists among us, but they were stedfastly refused the comfort which the Fathers could have given them. The priests were not permitted to minister to the spiritual welfare of their flocks.

As a matter of fact, by the strict instruction of Major Bach, no religious services of any description were permitted in the camp, at least not while I was under his sway.

To the members of the Roman Catholic persuasion the brow-beating, badgering, baiting and buffeting of the helpless priests acted as a red rag to a bull. But what could they do? Protest was merely so much wasted energy. Communication with anyone outside the camp was absolutely impossible. To have reviled Major Bach for his cruelty and carefully planned barbarity would only have brought down upon us further and more terrible punishment of such ferocity as would have made everyone long for the respite of the grave.

But the priests could not be broken, no matter to what physical and mental suffering they were subjected. Even Major Bach discovered to his chagrin that his devilish ingenuity had encountered an insuperable obstacle. To wreak his revenge he now compelled the Fathers to carry out all the dirtiest and most revolting work in the camp--duties so repulsive as to be beyond description. But the good men never murmured.

They did exactly as they were bidden, and even the guards at last appeared to realise the fact that their fertility in torment was of no avail in attempting to infuriate their meek charges.

Major Bach, however, was by no means cast down at his failures. One morning he ordered the twenty-two priests to be paraded. They were then loaded up with a variety of c.u.mbersome and heavy implements--spades, picks, shovels, and such like. Each load would have taxed the strength of a young man in the pink of condition and strength to carry, and yet here were old men, ranging between sixty and seventy years, compelled to shoulder such burdens. But they did it.

An order was rapped out, the guard wheeled, and the tiny party moved off. We discovered afterwards that they were marched three miles along the sandy road in the blazing sun to a point where they were roughly bidden to dig a huge pit.

Throughout the morning, and without a moment's respite, they were forced to ply their tools, their task-masters standing over them and smartly prodding and threatening them with their rifles if they showed signs of falling from fatigue, or if they failed to maintain the expected rate of progress. To such old men, who probably had never lifted the smallest and lightest tool for many years, if ever, it was a back-breaking task.

However, they clung dutifully to their work until the hour of twelve rang out.

Now they were re-marshalled, their tools were re-shouldered, and they were marched back to camp for the mid-day meal. By the time they reached the barracks all the other prisoners had consumed the whole of the available soup. There was nothing for the priests. It was explained that they should have hurried so as to have arrived at an earlier moment.

Then they would have received their due proportion. Meals could not be kept waiting for dawdlers, was the brutal explanation of the authorities. The priests must be made to realise the circ.u.mstance that they were not staying at an hotel. This, by the way, was a favourite joke among our wardens.

The priests bore visible signs of their six miles' tramp through crumbling scorching sand and under a pitiless sun, as well as of their laborious toil excavating the large pit. But their distressed appearance did not arouse the slightest feeling of pity among their tormentors.

Being too late for the meal they were re-lined up, and under a changed guard were marched back again to the scene of their morning's labour.

Naturally, upon reaching the pit, they concluded that they would have to continue the excavation. But to their intense astonishment the officer in charge ordered them to throw all the excavated soil back again into the hole! This was one of the most glaring examples of performing a useless task, merely to satisfy feelings of savagery and revenge, that I encountered in Sennelager, although it was typical of Major Bach and his methods. He took a strange delight in devising such senseless labours.

Doubtless the authorities antic.i.p.ated that the priests would make some demur at being compelled to undo the work which they had done previously with so much effort and pain. But if this was the thought governing the whole incident the officials were doomed to suffer bitter disappointment. The priests, whatever they may have thought, silently accepted the inevitable, and displayed as much diligence in filling the pit as they had shown a few hours before in digging it.

Still the afternoon's shovelling caused them greater physical hards.h.i.+p than the plying of the pick in the morning. They had been denied a mid-day meal, and their age-enfeebled physique proved barely equal to the toil. A basin of black acorn coffee and a small fragment of hard brown bread cannot by any manner of means be construed into strong sustenance for such a full day's work. During the afternoon one or two were on the verge of collapse from hunger and fatigue. But their indomitable spirit kept them up and the pit was duly filled.

By the time the labour had been completed the evening was advancing. For the fourth time that day they shouldered their burden of tools and set out on the three miles tramp to camp.

We saw them come in and our hearts went out in pity to them. They tottered rather than walked, their heads bowed as if in prayer, and their crosses of tools sinking them nearer to the ground. Seeing that they had walked twelve miles and had put in some eight hours gruelling work it was a marvel that the older members of the party had not fallen by the wayside. Yet, although footsore, weary, worn, and hungry they retained their characteristic composure. In silence they discussed their frugal evening meal of lukewarm black acorn coffee and black bread. Some of us, out of sheer sympathy, secured some "brotchen" for them, but they accepted our expressions of fellow-feeling very sparingly, although with extreme thankfulness.

They refused to say a word about their sufferings or the agonies they had experienced during their labour and long walk. I got the story from one of the guards who had accompanied them. But even these thick-skinned disciples of "kultur" and brutality were not disposed to be communicative. The stoicism, grim determination and placidity of the Reverend Fathers const.i.tuted something which their square heads and addled brains failed to understand. They had never experienced the like.

While Major Bach never repeated the senseless pit-digging and refilling programme for the priests, his invention was by no means exhausted.

Direct incentive to rebellion proving completely abortive he now resorted to indirect pettifogging and pin-p.r.i.c.king tactics, hara.s.sing the unfortunate priests at every turn, depriving them of food or something else, reducing their rations, giving them the most repulsive work he could discover, and so forth. But it was all to no purpose.

Those twenty-two priests beat him at every turn. For Major Bach to try to break their proud spirit was like asking a baby to bend a bar of steel!

What ultimately became of these prisoners I cannot say. In fact, I do not think there is any one who can definitely relate their fate. Other prisoners now commenced to arrive in increasing numbers and the breaking-in of these crowds to the tyranny and brutal existence of Sennelager Camp appeared to demand the complete attention of the authorities. Certainly the new arrivals provided Major Bach with all the entertainment he desired.

Some say that the priests were distributed among other camps; others that one or two succ.u.mbed to the persistent ill-treatment meted out to them; and still more that they are yet at Sennelager. No one can say precisely. Only one fact remains. For a time they occupied the sole attention of every one in the camp because they const.i.tuted the most prominent target for the fiendish devilry of Major Bach. Then they suddenly appeared to slip into oblivion. The probability is that they were swallowed up among the hundreds of French, British, Russians, Poles, Serbians, and various other races who were now pouring in. Being somewhat retiring in their nature the probability is that the priests were overlooked and forgotten in that troublous maelstrom of outraged humanity known far and wide as Sennelager Camp.

CHAPTER X

TYING PRISONERS TO THE STAKE--THE FAVOURITE PUNISHMENT

Until the coming of Major Bach at Sennelager confinement to cells const.i.tuted the general punishment for misdemeanours, the sentence varying according to the gravity of the offence. But mere solitary confinement in a hole in which perpetual twilight prevailed during the day did not coincide with Major Bach's principles of ruling with a rod of iron. It was too humane; even the most savage sentence of "cells" did not inflict any physical pain upon the luckless prisoner.

Major Bach was a past-master in the grim art of conceiving new and novel methods to worry and punish those who were so unfortunate as to be under his thumb. He was devilishly ingenious and fertile in the evolution of ways and means to make us feel our position as acutely as possible. I really think that he must have lain awake for hours at night thinking out new schemes for inflicting punishment upon us, or else must have been possessed of an excellent and comprehensive encyclopaedic dictionary dealing with the uncanny and fiendish atrocities devised by the Chinese.