At last I contrived to get as far as Parchim on the excuse of going for a bath. My sentry took me in the morning and brought me back in the afternoon.
On the train the passengers were talking excitedly, but in subdued tones lest I should hear. A telegram was passed down the carriage. The gentleman on my right carefully passed it around me to the gentleman on my left.
“For God’s sake let me see it, Kamarad!” I begged.
“Nein. Es ist verboten.”[21]
I studied the back of the paper as he held it up to read it and made out the word “Kaiser!”
“Bitte![22] Bitte! Kamarad,” I whispered, “is the Kaiser gone?”
“Not yet, but soon!” he replied.
The Parchim Railway station was heavily guarded by the Badgeless troops of the Soldatenrat.[23] In the camp I found the boys all merry and bright. The signing of the Armistice was daily expected. Repatriation by Christmas was conceived possible.
I gathered all the news I could from the English chaps in the baths. A new regime had come in the camp. All the officers and all the most notorious of the old bullies had fled, leaving the Soldatenrat in control.
“They found ‘Mad Alek,’” he announced.