We changed cars at Leer, where on the platform a drunken German soldier lurched against us, and, seeing us tied together, offered to lend us his knife to cut the cord, but the guard quickly frustrated his kind intention.
At Oldenburg we were herded through the crowded station and taken out on the road for Vehnemoor, the guard marching solemnly behind us. He knew we had no firearms, and we were tied together, but when Ted put his free hand in his pocket to find some chocolate, as we walked along, the guard screamed at him in fear. He seemed to be afraid we would in some way outwit him.
But he was quite safe from us; not that we were afraid of either him or his gun, for I think I could have swung suddenly around on him and got his gun away from him, while Edwards cut our cords with the knife which was in my little package. I think he knew that we could do this, and that is why he was so frightened.
But there was one big reason which caused us to walk quietly and peaceably forward to take our punishment, and that was the river Ems, with its cruel sweep of icy water and its guarded bridges. We knew it was impossible to cross it at this season of the year, so the guard was safe. We would not resist him, but already we were planning our next escape when the flood had subsided and the summer had come to warm the water.
He had a malicious spirit, this guard, and when we came to Vehnemoor and were put in our cells, he wanted our overcoats taken from us, although the cells were as cold as outside. The Sergeant of the guard objected to this, and said we were not being punished, but only held here, and therefore we should not be deprived of our coats. Several times that night, when we stamped up and down to keep from freezing, I thought of the guard and his desire that our coats should be taken from us, and I wondered what sort of training or education could produce as mean a spirit as that! Surely, I thought, he must have been cruelly treated, to be so hard of heart—or probably he knew that the way of promotion in the German army is to show no softness of spirit.
But the morning came at last, and we were taken before the Commandant, and wondered what he would have to say to us. We were pretty sure that we had not "retained his friendship."
He did not say much to us when we were ushered into his little office and stood before his desk. He spoke, as before, through an interpreter. He looked thin and worried, and, as usual, the questions were put to us—"Why did we want to leave?" "What reason had we? Was it the food, or was it because we had to work?"
Friedrichsfeld Prison-Camp in Winter