eh?"

I acquiesced in the plan and was led over to the wall while a
movie-man whipped out a handkerchief and tied it over my eyes.
The director then took the firing squad in hand. He had but
recently witnessed the execution of a spy where he had almost
burst with a desire to photograph the scene. It had been
excruciating torture to restrain himself. But the experience had
made him feel conversant with the etiquette of shooting a spy, as it
was being done amongst the very best firing-squads. He made it
now stand him in good stead.

"Aim right across the bandage," the director coached them. I could
hear one of the soldiers laughing excitedly as he was warming up
to the rehearsal. It occurred to me that I was reposing a lot of
confidence in a stray band of soldiers. Some one of those
Belgians, gifted with a lively imagination, might get carried away
with the suggestion and act as if I really were a German spy.

"Shoot the blooming blighter in the eye," said one movie man
playfully.

"Bally good idea!" exclaimed the other one approvingly, while one
eager actor realistically clicked his rifle-hammer. That was
altogether too much. I tore the bandage from my eyes, exclaiming:

"It would be a bally good idea to take those cartridges out first."
Some fellow might think his cartridge was blank or try to fire wild,
just as a joke in order to see me jump. I wasn't going to take any
risk and flatly refused to play my part until the cartridges were
ejected. Even when the bandage was readjusted "Didn't-know-it-
was-loaded" stories still were haunting me. In a moment,
however, it was over and I was promised my picture within a
fortnight.

A week later I picked up the London Daily Mirror from a
newsstand. It had the caption:

Belgian Soldiers Shoot a German Spy Caught at Termonde

I opened up the paper and what was my surprise to see a big
spread picture of myself, lined up against that row of Melle
cottages and being shot for the delectation of the British public.
There is the same long raincoat that runs as a motif through all the
other pictures. Underneath it were the words:

"The Belgians have a short, sharp method of dealing with the
Kaiser's rat-hole spies. This one was caught near Termonde and,
after being blindfolded, the firing-squad soon put an end to his
inglorious career."

One would not call it fame exactly, even though I played the star-
role. But it is a source of some satisfaction to have helped a roy