My carriage was not over-full at the start—four or five women and two elderly men. I had no trouble with them. Their conversation began and maintained itself exclusively about food, but they were cheerful enough.
Before Rostock the carriage had filled up and I with British politeness was strap-hanging. An old woman began asking me to shift her Korb (basket). I could not exactly understand what she wanted and must have looked rather foolish. However, I did the right thing eventually.
We changed at Rostock. I was half expecting trouble but nothing happened. A porter told me the platform for the Hamburg train. I got this stereotyped question fairly pat.
To Hamburg the train was overflowing; we were over 40 in a tiny compartment. I was wedged in against the window, strap-hanging. At one intermediate station a young soldier got in with a goose hanging out of his haversack. He immediately became the centre of an admiring throng. He was a cheerful youth and bandied repartee with all and sundry—I could not catch his sallies, which were in low German and greeted with roars of laughter. I suppose he was the son of some farmer and had “wangled” this goose, which would probably have fetched 150 marks in the market, to take back to his mess-mates. He got out just before Hamburg. I could not have asked for a better foil.
Hamburg! I had never hoped for even so long a run as this. Was there really a chance?... In any case, I was now well clear of the Stralsund zone. I began to realise that the heavy week-end traffic was helping me and that I was indeed no more than a needle in a haystack. I ate a sandwich and an apple which I had bought at Lubeck.
We ran into the big station at about 2.40 in the afternoon—it was very full. It did not take me long to find the “departure” notices, Kiel 3.10. I took my place in the “queue” for the fourth class booking office. Behind me two women had an altercation as to priority of place in the “queue.” I was rather afraid they were going to appeal to me. I had no wish for the rôle of Solomon at that moment.
I booked direct to Flensburg—about four marks’ worth—and made my way downstairs to the departure platform, which was indicated clearly enough. I did not like the odd quarter of an hour which I had to wait before the train came in. I was not very happy about my dark blue waterproof. I could not see anything approaching its counterpart. If one stands still, one can be examined at leisure; if one moves up and down, one runs the gauntlet of a hundred restless eyes, any one pair of which may at some previous date have had first hand cognisance of a typical naval rubber-lined English waterproof....
Then I blundered. There was a coffee-stall on the platform. I went up to it and asked for a cup. I had drunk nothing since 4 o’clock in the morning. Fortunately neither of the Frauleins in the stall paid any attention to me. Just then I saw the notice “for soldiers and sailors only” printed up in big letters. I should have known that, but no one had noticed anything.
When would that train come in?
It came at last. I chose the carriage with fewest soldiers in it, and most women, and made for my strategical position by the window. But it was impossible to avoid men altogether. I had one strap-hanging next to me from Hamburg to Kiel. Everybody started chattering at once. How could I keep out of this all the way to Kiel without suspicion? Of course, they were talking about food—various ways of dishing up potatoes.