"Monday, Jan. 11th.—Snow. A sentry committed suicide last night in the corridor. Great excitement among the Germans."
It was very early on Monday morning, long before daylight, that a noise of running feet outside the door of our room showed that something abnormal had happened.
Colonel Lepeltier ordered every one to stay in their beds, and we speculated vainly as to the cause of the uproar until the orderly came in with "Breakfast." A sentry had shot himself through the head, and was lying where he had fallen at the far end of the corridor, guarded himself now, poor fellow, by a brother sentry. No one was allowed out of his room until the corpse had been removed, which was not done until several officials had inspected the remains. When the inquest was over and the corridor cleaned up, a stain on the stone floor and a bullet-hole in the wall remained to tell the tragic story. Snow was falling that afternoon, and there was no chance of getting out to the terrace, so that the rest of the day had to be devoted to Poker and Bridge, games of which all were heartily sick. Reading was difficult on account of the ceaseless noise kept up by Gollywog and his merry men. Our game of Bridge was played at the end of the dining-table, the other end being occupied by chess, of which the Gollywog and Consul were the chief exponents. In the hands of these experts chess became the noisiest of all parlour games. They played on the co-operative system, two players sitting at the board, the others standing up at each side of the table. No piece was moved without great discussion, conducted in a loud voice, with much gesture. As soon as a piece had been moved the chess-board became a sort of storm centre into which even non-players seated at the far end of the room would recklessly plunge.
As a result of one of these discussions two of our southern friends quarrelled in real earnest, and most dramatically vowed to fight a duel at the close of the war. Reddy suggested it was a pity to put off the encounter indefinitely, and meantime proposed the use of coal buckets at fifteen paces. Strangely enough this real quarrel brought peace to the room for a few minutes, but the parties soon made friends again and the noise went on with renewed vigour. At seven o'clock the table was cleared and laid for dinner.
Dinner as usual, cabbage and cold sausage, the latter somewhat more palatable when fried on the stove to black crusty cinders.
"Tuesday, Jan. 12th.—Doctor's visit. I asked to be exchanged. There seems to be some hope."
This first meeting with the doctor was to me a cause of much apprehension. In the event of an exchange of prisoners, it was in this man's hands that the final decision would lie as to what prisoners were unfit for military service.
Shortly after 11 A.M. a French officer told me that the doctor was visiting my room. The corridor was very cold that morning, and, partly from the cold, partly from nervousness, my entry into the room where the doctor was waiting was most impressive. For the moment I lost control of my limbs, and nearly collapsed into the doctor's arms.