The British Interned in Switzerland

by Henry Philip Picot

Both officers and men were full of appreciation of the goodwill shown to them from the moment of reaching the Swiss frontier. The fact that they had at last left Germany seemed to them almost too good to be true. They had refrained from giving way to any signs of demonstration on leaving Constance, for fear of being turned back, and as they had no means of knowing when they had quitted German territory, perfect silence was maintained until they saw men waving to them and cheering from the fields, by which they realized they were amongst friends, and had cast off the dust of captivity. Then, at last, they felt able to give rein to their pent-up feelings. So it had been all the way to Zürich, every village along the route turning out to greet them as they passed by. I could see that this outburst of emotion after the suppression and antagonism of the years of captivity was having a very trying effect, for all ranks looked dazed, and appeared only half conscious of what was taking place around them. I mentally registered the fact that, to all outward appearance, there could be but little difference between shell shock and the emotional shock of pleasurable impressions so suddenly experienced.

Similar scenes were enacted at Berne, though the hour was past midnight, where again thousands of the townspeople had assembled. The Commandant of the station had, fortunately, applied for a body of Swiss troops to maintain order, and it was as well he had done so, for without them we should have had trouble in getting the men to the refreshment rooms, where a supper had been prepared through the thoughtful care of the "B.L.R.C.O." Here they were met, in the absence of the Minister and Lady Grant Duff, who had gone on to await their arrival at Château d'Oex, by Lord and Lady Acton and the other members of our Legation, the Chiefs of the Allied Missions with their Staffs, Colonel Hauser, Colonel Bohny, and many Swiss officers. After supper and a rest, the weary-looking, but refreshed and happy party, loaded with gifts, was re-entrained at about 3 a.m.

At this juncture I commenced to have misgivings as to how the men would stand the long night journey still in front of them, and orders were given for all blinds to be drawn, but sleep, as it proved, was out of the question. At Fribourg (one hour's run) thousands had collected, who were in a very enthusiastic mood, and made the most of the few minutes at their disposal. During the longer run to Lausanne silence prevailed in the carriages, but outside every station we could hear the cheers of hundreds who had been waiting during the night just to see the train as it ran past.

Some hope was expressed of a quiet time at Lausanne, where we were timed to remain a quarter of an hour; but the Lausannois, and the large British colony there, had no such thought in their minds, and a crowd of some 8,000 testified to the feelings awakened. The presents with which every one had provided themselves had to be passed over the heads of the closely packed crowd to those fortunate enough to be nearest to the carriages, for it was impossible for any except those near the train to reach the men. Mr. Galland, H.M.'s Consul, met the train here, and accompanied it to Château d'Oex.

At Montreux, which was reached at 7 a.m., the British and Swiss communities had made admirable arrangements for the entertainment of officers and men at the Hôtel Suisse, adjoining the railway station. We were met on the platform by large numbers of Red Cross bearers and boy scouts, who carried or assisted the cot cases from the train to the hotel, while those able to walk marched through serried ranks of sightseers, who broke through the cordon of gendarmes to load them with flowers and gifts, rejoicing when allowed to give a hand or help the men. The scene which presented itself was one likely to make a life-long impression, for the terrace where the tables were spread bordered the lake, disclosing the beautiful stretch of water from the Dent-du-Midi along the mountains of Savoy towards Geneva—a view perhaps unparalleled in Europe.

An eloquent and stirring address in French was given by the Prefect, the sincerity of whose words, if not their meaning, went home to the men, who cheered him to the echo. Mr. Cuenod, H.M.'s Consul, in a few and simple words, made it clear to all that, in a country where every able-bodied man had the privilege of bearing arms, the inhabitants would know how to express, and to make felt, that sympathy which every brave man should feel for another.

During the journey officers and men had asked me repeatedly whether there was any truth in a report which had reached them, that as soon as they were restored to health, they would be returned to Germany as prisoners of war. When replying to the speech of the Prefect, I made it quite clear to our men that they had seen the last of Germany. The next move, when the time came, would be homewards, and all they had to do or think about meanwhile was of getting well again, towards which end they would be assisted by the advice and treatment of a skilled Swiss Medical Staff. The painful attention with which all concerned listened to my words, and the immense relief to which they gave rise, brought home to me the heaviness which had been weighing on their spirits owing to the uncertainty of their future. How the malicious rumour arose no one at the time appeared to know, but it came out later that, in some of the camps in Germany, the men had been informed by their guards that they would return again to captivity as soon as they were fit. Some of the men had argued that as Switzerland could only take a limited number of prisoners of war, their places would be required by their other sick comrades in Germany as soon as they themselves were well enough to return. This they thought only fair, but the fact, nevertheless, weighed heavily upon them.

Immediately after breakfast, the men for Leysin, all of whom were supposed to be tuberculous, and amongst whom were some serious cases, were despatched to that destination in charge of Swiss doctors; the rest, for Château d'Oex, were divided into groups, and sent up in a succession of trains by the mountain railway.

The hills were covered by mist during the first part of the run, but this gradually cleared as the train mounted higher and higher, and the last stage was made in an atmosphere of light and sun, which showed up the springlike aspect of the valleys in all their beauty. The men were now in the best of spirits at nearing their destination, and vociferously returned the greetings of the peasants and others who had collected at the small stations en route, amongst whom were many French officers and soldiers quartered at Les Avants and elsewhere in the valley. I was particularly pleased at seeing the latter, as rumours had spread about Switzerland that French and British Ps. of W., owing to ill-feeling, would have to be kept at a distance from each other. These rumours emanated from a German source, and were evidently circulated with the intention of creating friction. The story may be ranked as one of the usual fabrications set rolling by our enemies, with a view to discrediting the Allies in the eyes of the Swiss. In the sequel it was entirely falsified, as French and British soldiers were often quartered together to the entire satisfaction of both, whilst the relations of the officers towards each other were often of a very intimate character.

A sound of great cheering, accompanied by the strains of "God save the King," arose as the train steamed into the station at Château d'Oex, which was profusely decorated with branches of fir and flowers. Grouped on the platform were H.M.'s Minister and Lady Grant Duff, my wife and daughter, the Swiss Municipal Council, the Rev. E. Dudley Lampen, and the leading members of the British and Swiss community. A delightful touch of old-world life and colour was imparted to the scene by hundreds of school-children who, dressed in their national costumes, lined the road near by, and distributed bunches of wild flowers to their new friends. The removal of many battered remnants of humanity, as they were lifted from the carriages, struck a pathetic note in the midst of much that was otherwise joyous and exhilarating.