lish treated their prisoners
better than any other nation (or so the translation read), and went on
to say that in return English prisoners must receive good treatment,
so that at the conclusion of hostilities they would take back good
remembrances of Germany to their own country. In my case things
certainly did change (I expect as a result of the speech)--for the
worse. A week later thirty-five officers, including myself, were sent
to Stroehen, a camp which will certainly be remembered long after peace
is declared, but I doubt if the memory will be a pleasant one.

CHAPTER VIII

STROEHEN

Previous to our departure Wolfe personally searched our belongings.
Although a long journey lay in front of us, he only allowed each
individual to carry two small tins of food. In reply to our protests
he said that, as things were always well arranged in Germany, our
luggage would therefore arrive at the same time as ourselves. This
was, of course, absolutely untrue, but we had to submit. During the
great search Wolfe, seeing that I was wearing a belt made of plaited
string (Yes, Mr. Wolfe, the belt in question was made of blind cord
cut from the _kurhaus_ windows!), and noting that it was something
unusual, ordered me to leave it behind. Taking it off, I politely
handed it to him, and expressed my hope that he would keep it as a
souvenir! With a charming smile he replied, "Three days _stuben_
arrest," which I acknowledged with a bow.

Outside the camp, on our way to the station we looked back and saw the
roll call was in progress. Thereupon we gave three cheers for the
many friends we were leaving behind us, in spite of the fact that
Wolfe and the commandant were on parade. We travelled second class and
at one station were even allowed to buy beer; our guards were quite
reasonable, and things in general went off pleasantly. We stayed some
time at an out-of-the-way station east of Osnabrueck, where quite a
crowd of children collected. They scrambled excitedly for the sweets
and cigarettes which we threw them. Arriving at a little station
called Stroehen, which seemed to be on a large moor, we got out and
started for the camp, the German officer bringing up the rear in a
victoria. After ten minutes' walking down a lonely road we made out a
group of low wooden huts surrounded by high arc lamps and wire, on a
desolate moorland. Surely this could not be our destinati