This shop became known throughout the colony as the "Pond-side" stores, and the nickname was apt. Why, constitutes a little story in itself. It virtually occupied the centre of the main thoroughfare, and certainly became the busiest corner in the community. But at this point the land made a sudden dip. Consequently, when we were visited by rainstorms, and it does rain in Germany, rendering a British torrential downpour a Scotch mist by comparison, the rain water, unable to escape, gathered in this depression, forming a respectable pond, with the booth or stores standing, a dejected island, in the middle.
If the storm were unduly heavy this pond assumed imposing dimensions. One day I decided to measure it, so arming myself with a foot-rule I waded deliberately through its length and width with my crude measuring device to find that it was 133½ feet long by 25 feet wide, and ranged from 6 inches to 2½ feet in depth. While engaged in this occupation I was surprised by an officer, who, catching sight of my rule, sharply demanded what I was doing? I told him frankly, and there was a lively breeze between us.
Naturally one will ask how it was that such a pond could form in the heart of the camp. To the British mind, saturated as it is with blind faith in German superior abilities in every ramification of human endeavour, it may seem incomprehensible, and the formation of the lake may be charitably attributed to the rain-water drainage system becoming choked, thus effectively preventing the escape of the water. But there was no drain to cope with this water, and what is more to the point the nuisance was never overcome until the British prisoners themselves took the matter in hand.
When the water was lying in this depression a trip to the Stores became an adventure. To obviate the necessity of wading through the noisome water we secured a plank gangway upon boxes and barrels. The pathway thus formed was only a few inches in width and precarious. The gangway ran out from one bank to the stores, thence on to the opposite bank, so that it was possible for the men to pass to the shop and to dry land in single file. If one were at the extreme end of the queue one might confidently expect to wait from two to three hours before reaching the shop, only then to be disappointed because it had been cleared out of everything edible.
When the water was up, the German frau, acting as shopkeeper, would perch herself on a box or barrel with the murky fluid swishing and snarling around her, because her stores always suffered inundation at such times. Walking the plank to make a purchase was highly exciting and mildly diverting. No little effort was required to maintain one's balance, while time after time the crazy foundations, as represented by the boxes and barrels, would give way, precipitating a long string of patient customers into the dirty water.
The inadequacy of these stores was felt very severely. At last, after a short and determined deliberation, it was resolved to run the colony upon communal lines. This was the only feasible form of control in order to protect the prisoners against scandalous robbery, extortionate prices, and to ensure a sufficiency of the essentials which were in such urgent demand. A simple, although comprehensive form of civic government was drawn up, involving the formation of educational facilities, a police force, a fire brigade, the establishment and maintenance of shops and canteens, all of which were operated by the community for the benefit of the community, the receipts being pooled in the camp treasury.
Such a system was absolutely imperative. Some of the prisoners were without money and were denied the receipt of contributions from home, their relatives and friends doubtless being too poor to help them. Naturally these luckless prisoners were speedily reduced to extremely straitened circumstances and distress among them became very acute. Furthermore parcels of clothing and other articles were being sent in bulk, addressed merely to the camp as a whole, instead of to individuals, the objects of the senders being the fair and equitable distribution of the articles among the prisoners indiscriminately. The handling of these supplies led to frequent and unblushing abuses, the men who were not in need of such contributions receiving them at the expense of those who sorely wanted them.
After our civic government had been reduced to practical application and was working smoothly, the task of distributing these unaddressed bulk supplies was entrusted to the captains of the barracks. The captain was selected for this responsibility because he knew all the deserving cases in his own party and was able to see they received the alleviation of their distress. When a crate of goods came in the captain compiled a list setting out the names and precise needs of every man in his party. If you were in a position to do so you were expected to pay a small sum for the articles, the price thereof being fixed, although you were at liberty to pay more if you felt disposed. This money was paid into the camp treasury. But if you were "broke," no money was expected. Consequently every man was certain to secure something of what he needed, irrespective of his financial circumstances.
The camp government also embarked upon trading operations. Shops were erected, one or two at a time, until at last we had a row of emporiums. The requisite material was bought from the Germans or from home with money drawn from the camp treasury. It must not be forgotten that the Teuton authorities resolutely refused to supply us with a single thing, declined to participate in any improvements, and refused to contribute a penny to defray the cost of any enterprise which was considered imperative to ameliorate our conditions. Indeed they robbed us right and left, as I will narrate later. By building shops in this manner we were able to boast a Bond Street, from which in a short time radiated other thoroughfares which were similarly christened after the fashionable streets of London—we had a strange penchant for the West-End when it came to naming our streets. The result is that to-day Ruhleben can point to its Fleet Street, its Trafalgar Square, and so on.
Goods were purchased for the various departments according to the specialities of the shops—boots for the bootshop, clothes for the clothiers and groceries for the provision stores. The communal government selected competent men to take charge of these establishments at a weekly salary of five shillings. Every shop in the camp, with the exception of a very few, such as mine in which I specialised in engraving, the ticket-writers and so forth, belonged to the community and were run by the community for the benefit of the community. No prisoner was permitted to launch out upon his own account as a shopkeeper if he intended to deal in a necessity. Only those trades which involved no stock or might be described as luxuries were permitted to be under individual management for individual profit.