You will be pleased to hear that I never felt disturbed about their swearing, as I seldom heard it. They were a singularly high type, I thought. Low talk I never heard, and I mixed about with them and conversed with them in quite a human way, and I would have come across it if it existed.
In the moral region of the men's psychology I must refer to the subject of swearing, of which a Chaplain at the front says: "He heard enough to keep his hair on end for the rest of his life." This is a strange experience, and I have no doubt he is not exaggerating, but I want to tell you a fact, that neither I nor … ever in all our experience heard even the mildest swearing, nor ever had to blush over low talk; and what … said is just my own experience that in their intercourse with us, at our own table, where some of them were every week, we found them behave like gentlemen. I am not inclined to explain this by the fact that having our confidences these men were loyal to our friendship. It may be in some measure the reason, but I think it is owing to the fact that those men came out of a terrible experience, an agony of soul, that left its impression; in fact, they had, in religious language, seen the face of God, and could never be the same again.
When I had it said to me that my influence over the men had been accounted for by my sympathy with socialistic principles, I felt it keenly, for it was neither true of me nor of the men I met. I was very pleased to discover not the slightest inclination among the mass of the men of any revolt against law and order, or discipline, when justly administered, and the only instances of a spirit of revolt were when the discipline revealed, as it did only very rarely, I confess, a desire to hit the actor and not the act, or when it in fact seemed revenge or anger against a particular man. I found, indeed, a very general acquiescence in military orders, when the commands came from officers that the men loved and trusted and who treated them as men, with minds and feelings. That certainly could not be called socialistic principles. The "Beloved Colonel" or Captain in the British Army is a man the men continue to respect, and would follow to the death in the path of duty.
What they (the men) want first of all is the human touch, the assurance of comradeship, and only when human friendship has done its work spiritual talk may follow—and perhaps not even then unless there is abundance of kindly actions to your credit. The soldier quickly detects if the dominant idea of the Padre is to bring glory to his Church, and is not passion for doing good to all irrespective of their communion. Among soldiers the religion without label is the most respected. It is a distinct advantage to value at a minimum the petty divisions of the ecclesiastical fold.
The psychology of Ps. of W. and of the Interned has also been the special study of certain well-known Swiss doctors, amongst others, Dr. Clement (Fribourg), Dr. A. L. Vischer (Bâle), and Professor Dr. Robert Bing. Their views have been well summarized by Major Edouard Favre in his work, "L'Internement en Suisse des Prisonniers de Guerre, Malades ou Blessés, 1917," and may be briefly stated as follows:—
The fundamental causes acting on Prisoners of War are loss of liberty, the herding together of large numbers, the unknown duration of captivity. They suffer from want of space, the impossibility of isolating themselves from their fellows, the constant expectation in which they live whilst awaiting letters or parcels, and the ever recurrent disappointments connected therewith; and all these sufferings are accentuated by that important factor, ignorance of the duration of captivity.
At the outset the prisoners seek in febrile activity a release from all these sufferings, which are aggravated by the memories of horrors lived through, apprehensions regarding the future, and nostalgia for country and relatives. Schools, theatrical performances, and concerts are organized; but gradually the exterior world effaces itself and disappears, and the prisoners live in a shadow land, without colour or life. Sensations are blunted, and give place to apathy, and the events of the war are followed with a mediocre interest.
Such is the milieu in which neurasthenia develops, well marked in some, less so in others, but common to all those who have passed six months in captivity behind wire barriers, and reaching a special intensity amongst, roughly speaking, 10 per cent. of the captives. First of all, an exaggerated irritability manifests itself, and the least opposition becomes insupportable. Quarrels are frequent. Then intellectual concentration becomes difficult, and such as renders close attention to a few pages of a book impossible. In such cases the prisoner often deliberately gives up his promenades, and prefers to remain quiescent.
A phenomenon of constant occurrence is the loss of memory, and inability to recall names of persons or of localities, specially those connected with memories anterior to the war. A Sergt.-Major, for instance, forgot the name of the Colonel who commanded his regiment since 1913, and has been unable to recall it up to the present. Several Interned cannot remember the Christian names of their fathers, mothers, and other near relatives. Another cannot recall the name of his village. Such cases are numerous even amongst those who have been in Switzerland for eighteen months.
As a symptom of a secondary nature, insomnia may be mentioned, though this varies. It may play a rôle in one camp, and not in another.