It was not fitting that I should enter into diplomatic discussion with a high German official, but if I had been talking as man to man, I could have reminded him that the spy panic which seized Paris at the outbreak of the war was entirely the fault of Germany herself, for it is an open secret that her spy system is her pet weapon of offense; her enemies therefore, naturally, see a spy in every Teuton. It is also well understood that, spy or no spy, every German man, woman, and child is admonished, when traveling in foreign countries, to “watch, record, and report anything of interest to the German Government.”

All the accusations that have been brought against France, that she did not properly provide for her interned prisoners, that she did not adequately care for her own wounded or the wounded of her enemy, that she did not give efficient support to her English allies on the retreat from Mons to Compiègne, resolve themselves into one conclusion, that she did not want or expect instant war and was not prepared for all the emergencies which the German attack precipitated. But all the world knows that she speedily supplied deficiencies and remedied defects with great ability and indomitable courage.

In saying that alien civilians in Germany were not interned in prison camps the German diplomat evidently thought I knew nothing about the vile detention camps at Ruhleben and of the English men and women who are there incarcerated to suffer beyond anything that the Germans ever endured in France.

Tuesday, December 8th. I went to the American Embassy this morning to obtain the necessary paper for my departure tomorrow for Vienna. Mr. Grew called me into his private office and said that Ambassador Gerard was particularly anxious that I should go to London instead as he had dispatches of the utmost importance to send and would feel indebted to me if I could take them. He warned me that the undertaking would not be pleasant or altogether safe. I promptly accepted the mission,—indeed such requests are, in the Army, the Navy, and the Diplomatic Service, made only to be accepted. I am to leave Berlin Thursday morning at 8:59 and go through Germany and Holland to Flushing, where I shall take a boat across the North Sea to Folkestone and thence to our Embassy in London.

This evening I looked over the casualty lists posted on the walls of an official building. These lists are published on numerous very large sheets of white paper. Each sheet has three columns in fine print. The names are grouped by regiments and companies, so that all the casualties of one company appear together; each name is given in full, is prefixed by the rank, and followed by the nature of the casualty, which is one of five things: Gefallen (fallen, killed); schwer verwundet (badly wounded); verwundet (wounded); leicht verwundet (lightly wounded); vermisst (missing). A casualty list is published every day, comprising from forty to fifty of the above-mentioned sheets, each sheet containing nearly three hundred names.

The last seven sheets were as follows:

No. 90publishedDec.1—40sheets
No. 91““2—50“
No. 92““3—52“
No. 93““4—44“
No. 94““5—52“
No. 95““6—48“
No. 96““8—48“