New prisoners are brought in—Frenchmen, Scotchmen, and Canadians. Many of the first-named cough frightfully. When they are asked where they got that, they answer that they have had it the whole Winter long. There is a lank, powerful-looking non-commissioned officer among them. He makes a sign to me and confesses confidentially that he is very hungry. I tell him he must have patience, as there will soon be coffee and bread given out.
"Bread? Black bread?" He curls up his nose. "May I not have a little pastry, perhaps?"
"You just try our black bread," is my reply. "It is the same as we have ourselves. We are better than we are supposed to be in France."
"Yes, that's true," he agrees. "They told us that the prisoners were badly treated in Germany. Now I see that such is not the case. Besides, they tell you the same thing about our prisoners in France. But they, too, do not have it so bad. On the contrary. I have seen some of them myself in Brittany. They get a quart of cider a day. There was an enormous crop of apples last Summer. And there is enough to eat. And besides that, they are allowed to stroll through the city a couple of hours every afternoon."
I permit myself to make a mental reservation regarding the last assertion, but a Frenchman brought in a little later makes the same statement.
A fairly educated and intelligent Canadian joins in the conversation and puts the question that occupies all of them the most: "What sort of fate awaits the prisoners?"
"You will have to work a few hours a day. Still, you are paid extra for that."
"It is tough to have to sit in close rooms all the time."
"No," I answer, "the wooden houses are surrounded by broad, open places. I, myself, have seen Englishmen playing football in a prison camp."
Then his eyes sparkle and he lets slip the remark: "That is certainly better than in Canada." Presumably he refers to the camp of the civilians interned there. I ask him why he enlisted. He colors up and answers, with a somewhat embarrassed smile: "Well, I knew that my country was in danger, so I wanted to aid it." And this smile seems to me to betray less the embarrassment of a man looking for a clever answer than that of an educated person not liking to use pathetic expressions. For the entire man has the appearance of frankness and decency.