Early in February another guest arrived at the fortress—another member for the English club. This was Foljambe, from L'Hôpital Notre Dame, Cambrai, who had made a very good recovery from severe wounds. Our new comrade, still very weak, only able to walk a short distance, arrived late in the afternoon, and was allotted a bed in my room. His experiences on the journey from Cambrai were very similar to mine. Although I have little direct evidence of how the Germans treat our soldiers, the information which Foljambe gave me on the subject is conclusive.
Foljambe, before coming up to the fortress, was put by mistake and left for nearly an hour in a soldier's Lager on the outskirts of Würzburg, and his story confirmed what the French orderlies had told us about the ill-treatment of the English soldiers.
"The English soldiers," said Foljambe, "go about like whipped dogs." Most of them were ill from want of food and warm clothing. Any excuse was seized upon to inflict hard punishments, and the constant bullying which was permitted, if not actually ordered by the officer in charge, made the men's life a perpetual torment. Foljambe had no time to get many details from the men, as the Germans hastily removed him from their company as soon as they found out that he was an officer.
On the field of battle no danger could silence the cheerful jest of these brave men; in hospital no suffering had been able to damp their cheery courage. The picture of these same soldiers cringing, looking from left to right when spoken to, as if to avoid a blow, is one upon which I cannot allow my thoughts to dwell.
"Feb. 11th.—Nothing to record." This is the last entry in my diary. The doctor came again with the Rittmeister, and spent a long time by the bedside of Lieut. C——, who had been shot through the sciatic nerve, and was apparently permanently lame. They left the room without taking any notice of me. This was depressing.
It was understood that C——'s case for exchange was being considered. Dr Zinck had taken no notice of me on this occasion, probably because my case had already been decided; but this view did not occur to me at the time. A rumour had been going round the rooms that an exchange of French officers, but not of English, would shortly take place.
The afternoon, my last in the fortress, passed slowly and sadly, like so many others. Poker had long ago been abandoned. Bridge was played with small enthusiasm.
A visit to the big room near the end of the corridor helped to pass away the evening. Here Captain D——, owner of some big mills in the north of France, showed me a working model loom which he had made out of firewood with no other tools than a penknife. With the loom he was weaving a "carpet" the size of a small pocket-handkerchief.