Then there were the Hungarians—really a wild Asiatic race still, and scarcely tamed by Europe. When they were at their games, no one else cared to play, it was much better fun watching the Hungarians. Their excitement, laughter, and shouts filled the camp. At times they quite lost control of themselves, and once, when things were going badly with them in a football match, they drew their knives and made a concerted attack on the opposing centre-forward because he was kicking too many goals. At Christmas-time the wild, barbaric music of their hymns was splendid to hear. Their educated classes were always gentlemen, and, as the traditional sympathy between Hungary and England did not seem to have suffered by the war, intercourse with them continued to be pleasant. Many Hungarian officers spoke to me about their intentions of settling down in England after the war was over. They scarcely seemed to regard themselves as at war with England. Caution will be necessary in resuming relations with any of the enemy, but it would be impolitic roughly to brush on one side advances that may come from Hungary. There is a good deal of the untutored savage about the Hungarian, but he has not the deliberate barbarity of the Hun.
AUSTRIANS
The Austrians were not particularly hostile to England either; their venom was reserved for Italy and Germany. They distinguished themselves from the Germans by being able to speak frankly about the war. They said quite openly, we meant war and we did not intend Serbia to escape this time. And they gave their reasons: the last time they had mobilized against Serbia, the troops had remained under arms for nearly a year, and it had cost Austria many millions of pounds, besides the damage done through loss of trade. They said that could not be allowed to happen again. Such motives are too weak to excuse the guilt of a world-war; but I could not but respect their honesty. They never put the blame on to anybody else. The Austrians did their best to educate the Germans, and to create in them some kind of moral feeling. They used to point out that the wrongs and cruelties committed by the Germans in the war must inevitably bring a bitter punishment, sooner or later. The Germans used to stare at such ideas, mouth and eyes wide open. They could not rise to the conception of a moral law which you defied at your peril. For answer they would assert, we are so strong, no one can touch us. In one respect the Germans showed a greater sense of self-respect than the Austrians. You never saw a German N.C.O. as an officer’s servant. The Austrian N.C.O.s did not trouble about their rank, and I, a private, had an Austrian sergeant as my servant.
Our amusements were the same as those of all prisoners of war—learning languages, study in some branch of science or art, music, and all sorts of indoor games. We had a professional “Kapellmeister,” one or two professional musicians, actors, and clowns, an orchestra, and a fine choir, so that our evening entertainments were quite worth attending. Thousands of books were in circulation. They were the one thing the Russians did not steal from our parcels. Whatever we wanted we could get by writing to Frau von Hanneken, head of the German Red Cross organization in China. The Red Cross centre at Tientsin became much excited about the fights for Verdun. We used to receive postcards saying that Uncle “Nudrev” was in a bad way, his back had been broken by a fall, and the use of his arms and his legs was gradually failing him. Unfortunately for the pious hopes of the Tientsin Colony, Uncle Nudrev enjoyed a most wonderful cure.
“The man recovered of the bite,
The dog it was that died.”
The Red Cross stores sent by Frau von Hanneken continued to be misused. Certain Hungarian-Jewish medical students desired to visit the Stretensk Yoshewara, but found it rather expensive to keep up. So the chief Austrian doctor, himself a Jew, used to give them Red Cross stores to live on, in order that they might save money for their vices. And men were dying of tuberculosis in the barracks because they could not get enough nourishing food. It is not my intention to make fun of Frau von Hanneken; she is a lady to whom I am indebted for many services, and it is no exaggeration to say that millions of men will remember her to their dying day with unbounded gratitude. I am only concerned with the Jews who rendered useless so much of her good work.
RANK AND FILE
In time the different classes shook down and came to live together in better harmony. Quarrelling of course was frequent. The officers were said to have taken three thousand protocols, i.e. three thousand formal notes had been sent in by the officers, accusing their colleagues of some breach of military discipline. The educated soldiers and the working-men came to live apart, and immediately began to understand one another better. Even the thieving revealed itself only as an expression of the good old Shavian principle: “Thou shalt starve ere I shall starve.” I was never tired of listening to the life-stories of the working-man. They had nearly all travelled outside Germany. It seems that the German Trades’ Unions have special funds in order to keep up hostels for their members in various towns throughout Europe. A member of the Union travels almost free, except for his railway fare. The German butchers were great travellers, and they knew all Central Europe. The stories of their adventures seemed to come out of the Arabian Nights. Here is one that happened to a butcher at Brussels. He was out of a job, and was wandering along one Sunday very disconsolate. Two servant girls met him, and, struck by his woeful countenance, they tried to cheer him up. They went to the cinematograph together and drank their coffee, and afterwards the girls refused to say good-bye to him, but took him to their home. Apparently they had been left by some count in charge of a fine house, and here the butcher lived for a few weeks the life of a Belgian nobleman. He wore the silks and fine linen of the count, smoked his cigars, drank his rare liqueurs, perfumed himself with his exquisite scents, and even descended into his marble bath. Then one day the girls came to him and said he must go, as the count was expected back. That night he returned to his old haunts and had a supper of pigs’ trotters swilled down with beer: he thought it was the nicest in his life. “Isn’t it curious,” he added, “that the nicest parts of a pig are also the cheapest?” I ventured to disagree. “Why,” he said, “everybody knows that pigs’ trotters, pigs’ ears, and a pig’s snout are the nicest parts of a pig, and they are much the cheapest.”
GERMAN KNAVERY