“Ach,” and his flabby cheeks shook like a mold of jelly on a frosty morning, as we bounced along, “dot iss der Deutschen Iron Cross.”
“Oh, my! The Iron Cross,” and I smiled with evident pride at our association. “You are very valiant.”
The youngster was flattered by my expression, though he did not grasp the words. This was what I was after. I could now converse safely with Davis, my pilot, if I spoke fast enough. So, turning to Davis I started to talk, but the kid rose up in all his dignity of rank and called a halt. In painful English he told us that communication between prisoners was absolutely “verboten.” We, of course, acquiesced most gracefully. I wanted to ask Davis especially if he had yet admitted burning the plane, because I already had admitted that I did it myself and if there was any one to be killed for the offense I could see no reason for both of us dying. This was information so vital that it had to be gotten to Davis in spite of any rulings of any school kid, German officer accompanying us. At the same time it was not my intention to purposely antagonize our friend at this particular time, so with a very sweet smile I turned to this German and looking directly into his eyes as if speaking only to him, I rapidly, but convincingly orated:
“Davis, while I’m talking to this distinguished young Prussian, looking him straight in the eye, and I am talking so fast he has no idea what I’m saying, I want to ask you an important question and I want you to answer it right away and look at him as if you were speaking to him when you answer it, for he can speak about as much of our language as a clam. These Germans claimed that when that plane hit the ground it became German property and that in burning it, we have wilfully destroyed German property and the penalty is probably death. Now I’ve already admitted that I burned it, so, if they ask you who destroyed it you must say that I did it, in order that we may not both get stuck for the same offense.”
Meanwhile I was making motions with my hands, shoulders, face, brow, mouth, nose, and ears, and looking directly at the German officer, as if I were performing for his benefit. The kid was dumbfounded—things were happening fast. Davis played his part like a trained actor and began to address this German, speaking very rapidly, and in a similar manner, while the poor German was shaking his head and hopelessly crying, “You are talking too fast; I do not hear you; I cannot understand what you say.”
But Davis told me that I was a damned fool, that he had told them he had burned the plane and that if there was going to be any suffering done we would both do it together. Believe me, that boy’s actions all through our experience endeared him to me forever, as a brave man and an honest, genuine fellow. However, when we got that one across our first custodian, I felt pretty much relieved for a great burden had been lifted from my mind. After all, I guess, there is a great deal of comfort in companionship even in trouble and misery.
We shot along those roads on that steel-wheeled bus at a remarkable speed. Quite soon we were at Montmedy, which was the headquarters of the 5th German Army. Undoubtedly here we were to be interviewed and sure enough we were taken into the large room in the front of the headquarters building, but, to our great surprise we were left for a few moments by ourselves as the force was out to lunch. I immediately threw off my flying “teddy bear” and hastily ran through my pockets and in spite of standing orders for flyers never to have written communications on their person, while flying over the lines, I found one order which would have given a great deal of aid and comfort to the enemy. I took this order, which was on very thin paper, and rapidly folding it, taking a match from the table I lighted a cigarette and then burned the order. The few other things I had were not important, but at that I wanted to destroy everything. I had thrown my map in the burning plane, so my conscience was clear that I had done my duty all around as far as I was able. We were quite sure that the room had audiphones so we said nothing. As I was about to throw such other stuff as I had in the stove, the kid came in. I simply slipped my hand in my pocket and looked innocent. Then a very suave, English-speaking German Lieutenant came in and told us that he had been a prisoner of war in Russia and had just been released; that he felt sorry for all the prisoners of war, and wanted to tell us not to believe everything we had heard about the German atrocities and that since we were Americans we would be well taken care of, fed, etc., for Germany wanted America to feel that America and “Deutschland” were the best of friends. His line was so smooth that I was sure that he told the same gag to everyone else, regardless of nationality. This intelligence officer was a very smooth article for instead of talking shop, he stated that if we would be so kind as to give him such things as we had in our pockets there would be no necessity to search us. By this time, he was welcome to everything I had on me. Then he told us that he wanted us to be his guests at tea that afternoon at five o’clock. We had no choice in the matter, so, told him we would be very pleased to accept his kind invitation.
It was about one o’clock then, and the kid took us in our steel-wheeled “lizzy” to the prison camp, which was to be our new home. I must say that ostensibly they treated us lovely in every way, and outside of the fact that our home was not in the same class with Riverside Drive or Orange Grove Avenue, it wasn’t so bad. We were incarcerated without ceremony and the kid left us after many assurances of his kind offices. No one came in to attend to us, so, I finally pounded on the door until some one did come. It was the interpreter, who informed us that we were too late for anything to eat as only enough food was prepared for those on hand and they did not know we were coming, whereupon Davis and I sat down to wait until night for something real to eat, meanwhile anticipating, with a great deal of pleasure our tea we were to have in the afternoon.
As I sat there on that old bench I really had my first opportunity for quiet reflection. In spite of the convincing environments I could not bring myself to believe that I was actually a prisoner of war.
This camp at Montmedy was some place. It was a rectangular affair, enclosing about an acre. Around this rectangle was a very heavy barbed-wire fence about twelve feet high, and about four feet within this was another big high fence and within this enclosure, at the four corners, were four separate buildings, each of which was surrounded by two huge wire fences, similar to those on the outside. In one of these houses lived the lord of the domain, the Director of the Prison Camp, a Sergeant in the German Army; in the second was the kitchen where they prepared the luscious food for the prisoners, and in which there was also located the quarters for the guards, where they lived, slept and smoked their German tobacco; in the third building there were bunks for enlisted men who were taken prisoners; and in the fourth were the Non-Commissioned and Commissioned officers who were prisoners, and in this last named building were Davis and I.