§ 2
The journey home was protracted by innumerable delays. We left Mainz on November 24th, and it was not until the 5th of December that we arrived in London. We spent five days in Nancy, another three in Boulogne, and the trains behaved as is their wont on the railroads of France. All this rather tended to dispel the glamour of the return.
For one of the chief attractions of leave is its suddenness. One is sitting on the steps of a dugout musing gloomily on the probable chance of a relief, when a runner arrives from Battalion with a chit, “You will proceed on U.K. leave to-night. The train leaves Arras at 8.10 p.m.” And then the world is suddenly haloed with flame. One rushes down the dugout, flings hurried orders to the sergeant, collects all that is least important in one’s kit, scatters an extravagance of largess among the batmen who have collected it, and then races for H.Q. It is all a scramble and a rush. The mess cart is chartered, within a couple of hours one is at the railhead; a night of cramp and discomfort and one is at Boulogne; there is just time for a bath at the E.F.C. Club, and then the boat sails. There is a train waiting at the other end, and the whole business takes only twenty-four hours. It is like a tale from the Arabian Nights. At one moment one is sitting on a firestep, the next one is in London. It embodies the very essence of romance.
But the return of the Gefangener was altogether different. He had plenty of time in which to collect his thoughts, the return to civilised life was marked by slow gradations. At Metz he could get a decent bath, at Nancy a decent dinner. By the time he had reached Boulogne, his odyssey had assumed the most prosaic proportions. There is no doubt about it, for those who had been prisoners only a few months the leave boat was infinitely more exciting.
But there were, of course, compensations. After having lived on tinned meats for eight months, it was a thrilling experience to find a menu that comprised fried sole and grouse, Brussel sprouts and iced grapes. Over my first dinner I took three hours. It was a gluttonous but on the whole a natural exhibition. It also saved us from a further period of confinement.
For when we arrived at Nancy one of the first pieces of intelligence we received, was the news that it would not be possible to provide a train for us within five days. To many ardent spirits this was a sad blow, and one or two adventurers decided that whatever the rest might do, they themselves were not going to wait five days “for any blooming train,” and among these rebels I had rather naturally numbered myself.
During the afternoon I went down to the station with Barron, the constant companion of my peradventures, and interviewed the railway authorities. Now there is only one way to deal with a military policeman; it is no good trying to dodge him. He knows that trick too well. The frontal assault is the one road to success. We walked straight up to him.
“Corporal,” I said, “we’re going to Paris.”
“Very good, Sir; you’ve got your movement order made out, I suppose.”
“No, Corporal, I’m afraid I haven’t,” I confessed.
He grunted.
“That makes it a bit awkward, Sir; you see, I have got orders, Sir, to....”
At this juncture a five-franc note changed hands.
“But, Sir, of course it could be managed, I expect, if you’re down at ten minutes to eleven. Well, Sir, I’ll see what I can do.”
That was all right; and feeling ourselves rather dogs, we made our way back to the Stanislas and had a game of billiards. At half-past six we sat down to a long, carefully selected dinner and two bottles of champagne; and as the evening progressed a delightful warmth and languor came over us. A bed with a spring mattress seemed more than ever desirable.
“It won’t be a very comfortable journey,” hazarded my companion. “It will take a good ten hours.”
“Yes,” I said.
“It really seems rather a sweat....”
“Old man,” I said sternly, “I’ve paid that corporal five francs, and on my mother’s side I’m Scots.”
And we returned to our attack on the omelette.
Half an hour passed, and the world of languor grew even fairer. Effort then appeared almost criminal. Surely the supreme delight of life lay in this slow puffing at a cigarette. The idea of our all-night journey became increasingly abhorrent.
“Archie,” I said, “do you think we shall be able to get any sleep in this train?”
“We shall be too cold. You know what a French train is?”
And again there was a silence. By this time we had reached the coffee stage. In about half an hour we should have to go. There would be a longish walk back to our billets, then we should have to pack and lug our bags all the way down to the station. It really didn’t seem worth while....
“Look here,” I said, “we shall only gain five days by this, and I’m jolly sleepy....”
“And if it’s your Scots blood that is troubling you,” my companion burst out, “I’ll pay you the damned five francs now, and with interest.”
That settled it.
“Garçon,” I called, “l’addition, s’il vous plaît, et cherchez-moi un fiacre, je suis fort épuisé.”
But the others were either made of sterner stuff, or else they had wearied of the lures of the Stanislas. At any rate they presented themselves duly before the military policeman at 10.50, and a quarter of an hour later they were on their way to Paris, to that city of gay colours and gayer women; while stretched out peacefully on a delightful spring mattress, two renegades slept a coward’s sleep.
Well, the last I heard of those lambent rebels was that on their arrival at Paris they were instantly arrested by the A.P.M., and when we left Boulogne they were still sending urgent telegrams over France, begging for an instant release. Whether this has been since accorded them I do not know, but when I went down to Victoria a week after my arrival to meet a friend, I saw, stacked in a neglected corner, a huge pile of the white wood boxes that were peculiar to the Offiziergefangenenlager, Mainz. And on those boxes were the names of those bright warriors who had defied authority. Their luggage had come on afterwards with us, and had preceded them by many days. They were very gallant fellows, very resolute and proud-hearted, but ... I am glad I went to the Stanislas.
And when we did eventually move from Nancy, it was not in one of the unspeakable leave trains, but in a hospital train, fitted with every possible convenience and comfort. As in the haven of the Pre-Raphaelite, there were “beds for all who come,” and beds, moreover, that were poised on springs, and that swung gently to the movement of the engine. For thirty-six hours we slept solidly.
And at Boulogne we were provided with a hospital boat; indeed, we might have been the most serious stretcher cases, instead of being rather untidy, very lazy, and thoroughly war-weary Gefangenen. It was a royal return.
Twenty-four hours later, with a warrant for two months’ leave in my pocket, I was standing on Victoria platform, a free man. I had often wondered what it would feel like. Would it seem very strange to be no longer under authority, to be able to do what I liked, and to go where I wanted? I had wondered whether the atmosphere of a prison camp would still hang over me, and whether I should see in commissionaires and waiters some dim survival of those whiskered sentries. When I went to a theatre, should I turn rather nervously to the powdered lackey in the vestibule, as if half expecting a thundered “es ist verboten”? Would it take long to drop those habits of subservience?
But when I was once there, all those misgivings were as a dream. It seemed that I had never been away at all. With my old-time skill, I overawed a taxi-driver, and promised to “make it worth his while.” I drove round to my banker, and cashed an enormous cheque; then to my tailors to order a civilian suit. And then—Hampstead.
I lay back against the padded cushion and watched each well-known landmark fall behind me—Lord’s, Swiss Cottage, the Hampstead cricket field. Surely I had never been away at all. Those eight months in Germany, they were merely some old remnant of a fairy tale, ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten; they had no real existence. I felt as though I were coming back from Sandhurst for my Christmas leave. There had been no separation. In the last month I had had one week-end leave and two Sunday passes. It was just a resumption of the old life, a slipping back into the ordered harmony of days.
The taxi drew up outside the door; I knocked on the window with my stick, and the hall was instantly alive with welcome. But I could not make it an occasion for heroics. It did not seem in any way a special event, demanding any exceptional excitement.
“Father,” I said, “I’ve got no change. You might give that taxi-driver ten shillings.”
INDEX
A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, V, W, Z
“Alcove,” the, its cosy comforts, 173;
protection of its own interests, 175-8;
a place of happy memories, 186-90;
Milton Hayes in retirement in, 207
Alhambra, the, the future home of Aubrey Dowdon, 201
Amiens, its luxuries, 150
Amusements in captivity, 193 et seq.
Anti-Northcliffe Times, the, 222
Architecture flourishes in the Alcove, 178
Armistice, the, in Mainz, 236 et seq.
“Arnold,” Capt., his bibulous escapade at Karlsruhe, 113
Arras to St. Quentin, attack upon, 3
Asceticism, its ethics considered, 53
Aspirin, German doctor’s sole prescription, 128
Authorship, as fostered by the Pitt League, 173, 178
Baden-Hessen, its native moderation, 117
Bapaume, 14
Barclay, Mrs. Florence, lengths resorted to by a prisoner to secure her Rosary, 50
“Barron,” Lieut., his capacity for sleep, 131;
his ingenuity as cook, 132;
his self-sacrifice in a good cause, 135;
his amiable companionship, 141;
a friend to the last, 260
Beauty chorus of the “Buckshees,” 214
Beef dripping as an ingredient in chocolate soufflé, 133
Bennett, Mr. Arnold, his praises sung, 184
Berlin, all roads lead to, 16
Berliner Tageblatt, Der, its hectic effusions, 224
Bible, the, sacrilege upon, by a German officer, 125
Billiards as a form of athletics, 196
Bolshevism, the shadow of, 233;
a German waiter on, 237
Bomenheim, Herr, formerly window-cleaner, eventually Commandant of Frankfort, 241
“Book of Common Prayer,” its inadequacy as a complete prison-library, 49
Boulogne, prisoners at, 262
Bout-Merveille, generosity of the inhabitants, 34
Bread, arrival of, at Mainz: mouldiness of, 102
Brooke, Rupert, 191
“Buckshees,” the, Milton Hayes’s operatic company at Mainz, 210
Bullecourt, capture of, 4
Bully-beef as an incentive to platitude, 104;
its monotony, 129
Bureaucracy, its insidious influence among prisoners, 64;
its inquisitiveness, 65;
its confusion of literature with commerce, 66;
German bureaucracy and food parcels, 109
Byron, Lord, Lieut. Stone’s resemblance to, 176
Cambrai, Headquarter orders concerning, 7
Cannan, Mr. Gilbert, his Stucco House saved from fire, 10;
Lieut. Stone’s mild admiration for, 184
Captivity, its irksomeness and psychology, 139-46
Carlton Hotel, a waiter at, now a German orderly in Mainz, 237;
his political views, 237
Censor of letters, his natural modesty, 78
Cheshire Cheese, the, visions of, in captivity and after, 188
Chestnuts, their nutritive value as coffee, 27
Chocolate, its Shavian importance in event of an escape, 160;
its market price in Germany, 229
Chocolate soufflé, novel recipe for, 132
Claustrophobia, its effect on prisoners, 47
Colonels, three British, attempt to escape from Mainz, 161;
ignominious result of, 163
Commandant of Mainz, the, his arrogant pomposity, 121;
his vindictiveness, 123;
his cheap revenges, 123;
his contempt for literature, 125;
his punishments for attempted escapes, 164;
his final error and fall, 242
Committees, their characteristic abuses, 209
Continental Times, the, its glib mendacity, 222;
its pro-German propaganda, 223
Cooking in a prison camp, 129
Copenhagen, bread arrives from, 100
Corporal, scepticism of a section-, 2
Correspondence, abnormal, 14
Cox, Messrs., the accommodating bankers, 58
“Croft,” Col., as harbinger of food, 101
Crown Prince, the, his inflammatory portraits, 98
Cuff, Sergeant, in The Moonstone, 158
Dane, Miss Clemence, her fiction under fire, 9
Dickens, Charles, his extravagant characterisation reproduced in Col. “Westcott,” 69
Dictaphones, German use of, 30
Douai, prisoners march to, 23;
illiterate melancholy of, 27;
dictaphones at, 30
“Dowdon,” Aubrey, his astounding musical gifts, 198;
his imperishable libretti, 201;
stimulating his ambition, 202;
to the rescue of the “Buckshees,” 212
Dowson, Ernest, 188
Doyle, Sir Francis Hastings, his inspiration of the modern soldier, 21
“Dried Veg,” nutritive solace of, 56
Dury, 24
Ecoust, capture of, 4
Education, the British dislike of, 68
Escapes, the romance of, 152;
various schemes for, 154;
the first attempt at, 158-62;
effect of, upon cowardly natures, 164;
punishment for attempts, 164;
Col. Wright’s splendid attempts, 167;
and their frustration, 169
“Evans,” Lieut., his knowledge of charts, 13;
his tactful reticence, 15;
his watchfulness, 15;
his unsuccessful quest for parcels, 106;
his enthusiasm for Col. “Westcott’s” oratory, 130;
his natural appetite, 134;
and
picturesque language, 134;
his cookery examination, 136
Field Service Regulations, their bearing upon capture, 18
Finland, its future in the herring trade, 84
Finnish language, the, its visionary path to a Priority Pass, 83
Flaubert, Gustave, 144;
his slow workmanship, 183
Foch, Marshal, effect of his offensive on the German mind, 232
Food, the lack of, 27, 31, 50, 51;
cost of, in Germany, 228
Food-parcels, their absorbing interest, 55, 100, 105
Football in captivity, 194
Frankfort, Central Command at, vindicates the integrity of literature, 126;
the effect of the armistice at, 240
Frankfurter Zeitung, Der, its journalistic continence, 93;
its popularity among prisoners, 223;
no fosterer of wild rumour, 238
French, German hatred of, 249
French language, the, difficulty of acquiring among prisoners, 64;
the British bureaucrat’s estimate of, 66
“Frobisher,” Capt., his military enthusiasm, 174;
his dislike of “the Huns,” 174;
his inappropriateness in the Alcove, 175;
the scheme for his removal, 176;
his antipathy to poetry, 177;
his final exit from the Alcove, 178
Future Career Society, the, its inauguration and methods, 63;
its bureaucratic administrators, 64-6;
its early popularity and subsequent failure, 67-8
Games in captivity, their scarcity, 193
German officers, their unshaved condition, 19;
their mean suspicions, 110;
their lack of humour, 112;
their duplicity, 121;
solitary example of wit among, 126;
degradation of, under revolution, 233
German people, the, psychology in war-time, 91;
its freedom from vindictiveness, 92;
its ignorance of the origin of the war, 96;
its despair at the result, 224;
after the armistice, 248;
German war-poetry considered, 94-6
German professor, a, upon the war and the national characteristics, 97, 238
German sentries, their courteous demeanour, 33;
their starved condition, 117;
their ubiquity at Mainz, 153;
neglect of duty, 162;
their passion for boxing, 168;
their visions in days to come, 191
Gibbs, Mr. Philip, his vivid journalism, 14
Girl on the Stairs, The, successful operetta at Mainz, 201
“Gladstone,” Lieut., as a musical composer, 213
Gomorrah, the dispensation of, 87
Gosse, Mr. Edmund, quoted, 149
Graves, Capt. Robert, his poems a perpetual comfort in the trenches, 9;
his admirable war-poetry, 94
Green Eye of the Little Yellow God, The, masterpiece of Lieut. T. Milton Hayes, M.C., 41, 42, 43
Guides, the trustworthiness of, in France, 11
Ham, 14
Hampstead, home, and beauty, 265
Hardy, Mr. Thomas, unwilling sacrifice of his works under fire, 9
Harrod’s Stores, its infallibility, 119
“Hawkins,” Private, his dangerous passion for cigarettes, 16;
his convenient flesh-wound, 17
“Hawkshaw, Silas P.,” Lieut. Milton Hayes’s great creation of, 217
Hayes, Lieut. T. Milton, M.C., his personal appearance, 41;
his study of popular taste, 41;
his masterpieces, 41;
his literary methods and artistic imagination, 42;
secret of his greatness, 43;
his exploitation of young love, 44;
his inevitable success after the war, 45;
his theories on the gratification of appetite, 54;
his genial presence in the Alcove, 179;
the Colossus of the Mainz Theatre, 198;
his smile, 198;
his childlike pleasure in his own wit, 199;
his temporary retirement, 205;
his restoration by Sanatogen, 205;
the victim of professional rivalry, 207;
founds the “Buckshees,” 210;
his managerial methods, 212;
his beauty chorus, 214;
his wonderful opera, 216;
himself alone the Arabian bird, 217;
the eternal gratitude of his friends, 221
Heine, Heinrich, his bridge at Mainz, 47
Hendecourt, capture of, 6
Hindenburg, German faith in, 20
Hockey in captivity, 195
Holzminden, a notoriously bad camp, 120
Housman, Mr. A. E., Lieut. Stone’s recitations from, 176
Hueffer, Mr. Ford Madox, confiscation of his Heaven by German officials, 111
Humour, German lack of, 112
Hunger, a prisoner’s purgatory, 31, 51, 52
“Huns,” German distaste for the term, 112
Ill-treatment of English officers in prison-camps, 120;
by incompetent German doctors, 128
Imprisonment, effect on the nerves, 138
Interpreters, German, their simple gullibility, 29;
their estimate of John Bull, 30
Irishmen, their vitality in a queue, 61
Jealousy, professional, of rival actors, 202;
its influence on captivity, 203;
its comparison with the hate of nations, 204;
it works like mischief, 208
John Bull, the London weekly, German interpreter’s witticism concerning, 30
Kaiser, the, his boasted resemblance to Attila, 113;
his continued popularity in Germany, 231;
his desertion, 232;
the scapegoat of his people, 252
Kantine, the, at Mainz, its uses and abuses, 55, 59, 60;
its supply of text-books, 67;
its consolations and diversions, 145;
its commercial subtlety, 147
Karlsruhe, prisoners arrive at, 33;
comparative comfort of, 37
Knave of Diamonds, The, Lieut. Milton Hayes’s strange theory concerning, 55
Köln, the revolution at, 232
Lawn tennis in captivity, 195
Lens, alarming reports concerning, 14
“Leola, daughter of the Hesperides,” her appearance and its effect, 215
Lice, plague of, 31
Lille, apprehension regarding, 14
Lissauer, his cheap vehemence, 95
Literature, its military inconvenience, 8;
its military relation to book-keeping, 65;
its contemptuous ill-treatment by German officers, 126
Liver paste, its popularity among prisoners, 60
Longworth, Mr. F. Dames-, his epistolary courtesies, 235
Loom of Youth, The, its length and breadth, 182;
its characteristic language, 182
Lorna Doone as a study in the gratification of appetite, 55
Louis Napoleon in La Débâcle, strange effect upon a hungry prisoner, 54
Louvain, commissariat at, 34
Lustige Blätter, its gory caricatures, 93
Lyceum melodrama and the facts of war, 21
Lyttelton, Canon the Hon. E., his repugnance to actuality, 174;
his helpful literary criticisms, 235
Maconochie’s beef dripping, 108, 129
Mainz, unpleasing prospect of, 45;
doleful arrival at, 46;
architectural features of, 46-47;
the Offizier Kriegsgefangenenlager at, 47;
“shades of the prison-house,” 48;
prisoners’ routine at, 48;
arrival of parcels at, 56;
bombardment of, 123;
inadequate medical service at, 127;
the impregnability of its citadel, 152-71;
revolutionists arrive at, 232;
the armistice at, 246
Major, illicit process of a, 215
Manicure, its practice in captivity, 150
Marchiennes, 31;
commandant at, his strict attention to business, 32
Mark, the value of, 58
Maupassant, Guy de, 187
Medical service, the German, total inadequacy at Mainz, 127
Melancholia of captivity, 142
Metz, prisoners entrain for, 256
Monchy, M.G.C. at, 5, 14, 24
Moore, Mr. George, effect of his prose upon a prisoner of war, 38;
his yearning for a new language, 82;
his support expected, 87;
his confessions, 189
Nancy, prisoners at, 257
Nichols, Mr. Robert, his fine war-poetry, 95
Noreil, capture of, 4
Offensive, the Great (March 21, 1918), 1-17
Officers, English, their treatment as prisoners, 118
Otto’s Grammars, illicit hoarding of, 67
Oxford Book of English Verse, its preservation from the Germans, 10
Pater, Walter, and the psychology of captivity, 144;
quoted, 149;
Lieut. Stone’s admiration for, 184;
quoted, 188
Patriotism denounced by Lieut. Stone under the influence of Rhine wine, 178
Paymaster, official activities of, 58, 61
Peace, German passion for, 35, 36, 230
Perambulation the sole diversion of the prisoner, 196
Peronne, 14
Pickwick Papers, Lieut. Milton Hayes upon, 54
Pitt League, the, its foundation by Col. “Westcott,” 71;
its principle of combination, 72;
the origin of its name, 72;
its imperialistic sweep, 73, 74;
its military comprehensiveness, 74;
its success, 76;
its further development as the Pitt Escape League, 166;
its beneficent foundation of the “Alcove,” 173
Porter, Mrs. Gene Stratton, efforts of a prisoner to secure her masterpiece, 50
“Pows,” the, concert party at Mainz, 197;
the rousing of its ambition, 200
Press, the British, its indefatigable propaganda, 29
Priority Pass, the, its conception by Lieut. “Wilkins,” 77;
its philosophy, 78;
its deceptive working, 80
Public School Education, its effect on the soul of youth, 148
Punch, the gospel of Lieut. Milton Hayes, 213
Queues, their origin and psychology, 58
“Radcliffe,” Lieut., his mastery of the piano, 213
“Ragging” the Commandant of Mainz, 123
Railway travelling in Germany, its pestilent conditions, 34
R.A.M.C., ingenious treatment of bread, 102
Rations, poverty of, 50, 51
Red Cross Prisoners of War Depôt, its efficiency and worth, 37, 38, 100, 110
Reincourt, capture of, 6
Respirator, the psychical qualities of a, 1
Revolution, the, in Mainz, 232, 236
Rhine wine, effect of, upon Lieut. Stone, 175, 185
Richards, Mr. Grant, his publisher’s contracts, 183
Richardson, Mr. H. H., Lieut. Stone’s enthusiasm for the works of, 184
Romance, the Lyric Theatre success, Lieut. T. Milton Hayes’s analysis of, 44
Routine of the Gefangenenlager, 48
Russia, German theory about, 96
Sanatogen, its effect on Lieut. Milton Hayes, 205
Sassoon, Mr. Siegfried, his “In the Pink,” 95;
a poor compliment to, 223
Satin-tasso as a resource in captivity, 146
Sauerkraut, ubiquity of, 31, 50
Scarlet Pimpernel, the, as an example to adventurous prisoners, 166
Schopenhauer, Lieut. Stone expounds, 176
Schoolmasters, their intellectual mediocrity, 69;
their stock defence, 148;
the long array of, in the Spectator, 235
Scotsmen, their dilatoriness in queues, 61;
their assistance in Col. Wright’s attempt to escape, 168
Secrecy, official regard for, 7
Selfridge’s, its efficient service, 119
Sentries, German, their unexpected affability, 33;
their starvation, 117
Sergeant-Major, alcoholic dignity of an English, 23;
blindness of a German, 31
Shakespeare, William, hastily misquoted by a subaltern, 9
“Shivers,” the, theatrical company at Mainz, 200;
its beneficent competition, 200
Shorthand, the British bureaucratic esteem for, 66
Simplicissimus, its filthy cartoons, 93
Squire, Mr. J. C., his “To a Bull-dog,” 95
Starvation, phenomena of, 28, 51, 53, 117;
of Germany, 228
St. Leger, the Rev. B. G. Bourchier’s army hut at, 5
“Stone,” Lieut., his ready wit, 39;
his fortunate arrival at Mainz, 48;
his sufferings under the Priority Pass system, 80-2;
his opinion of botany as a science, 82;
his share in the vision of a new language, 83;
tackles Capt. Frobisher, 175;
his lecture on the “higher life,” 176;
his brilliant conversation, 184;
effects of Rhine wine upon, 175, 185;
his unrecited poems, 186
Swedish drill, British distaste for, 194
Swinburne, Algernon Charles, his poems as a covert for propaganda, 125
Symons, Mr. Arthur, quoted, 28;
the women of his songs, 189
“Tarrant,” Lieut., his endurance under control, 38;
his asceticism, 38;
his critical sallies, 40;
his self-imposed fast, 40;
providential arrival of, at Mainz, 48;
his invaluable library, 49;
his breakfast hour, 179;
his morning apparel, 180;
his literary exercises, 181;
his accuracy, 182;
his frank opinion of the author’s fiction, 235
Tartarin re-embodied in Col. “Westcott,” 73
Tatler, the, its coy picture-gallery, 5
Tchecov, his short stories, 187
Theatre, the, at Mainz, closed as a punishment for attempted escapes, 165;
its peaceful penetration, 172;
its excellent shows, 197
Thurloe Place, the Good Samaritan of the P.O.W., 107, 109
Torquennes, 24
Treacle, its value in chocolate soufflé, 134
Treatment of prisoners, 116 et seq.
Troubadour, Der, at Mainz, 254
Verlaine, Paul, 188
Vis-en-Artois, 24
Vitry, prisoners’ reception at, 26
War-poetry, good and bad, 94
War and the politicians, 226 et seq.
Watts-Dunton, Mr. Theodore, compared with Lieut. Stone, 185
Waugh, 2nd Lieut. Alec R., his dogmatic statements on men and matters, 1-267;
his abnormal correspondence, 14;
his dogged somnolence, 15;
his first meeting with Milton Hayes, 41;
his ambitions for a future career, and their reception by Authority, 64;
his apocalyptic vision of a new language, 83;
his imaginary acquisition of a Priority Pass, 86;
his chastened disillusionment, 90;
his recognition of his own good fortune, 92;
his selection as cook to the mess, 130;
his culinary prowess, 132-6;
his experiment on the school organ, 157;
his contented hours in the Alcove, 186;
his love of the years before he was born, 189;
his castigation by a body of bureaucrats, 209;
an unwarrantable compliment to, 223;
his apostacy as a rebel, 234;
German adjutant’s literary judgment of, 235;
his return home, 265
Waugh, Mr. Arthur, his paternal benevolence, 266
Waugh, Mrs. Arthur, her Scottish descent, 261
Weather, the, effect upon a prisoner’s spirits, 50
Webster, John, the favourite quotation of prisoners of war, 142
Wells, Mr. H. G., Lieut. Stone discusses, 184
“Westcott,” Col., his Dickensian qualities, 69;
his relation to the music-hall stage, 69;
his soldierly grip, 70;
his hatred of individualism, 70;
his bravery, 71;
his foundation of the Pitt League, 71;
his opening speech, 71;
his sense of humour, 72;
his likeness to Tartarin, 73;
his indomitable energy, 75;
his affection for his own scheme, 75;
as Prime Minister, 76;
his encouragement of honest ambition, 84;
his “dream within a dream,” 89;
the popularity of his speeches, 130;
his interest in attempted escapes, 155;
the Gallio of frivolous amusement, 193
Whitest Man I know, The, eminent monologue by Lieut. T. Milton Hayes, M.C., 41
“Wilkins,” Lieut., his ingenious conception of the Priority Pass, 79
Woman, her ruling passion for self-advertisement, 170
Wood-carving as a resource in captivity, 145
“Wright,” Col., his valiant attempt to escape, 166;
his choice of daylight, 166;
his unfortunate intrusion upon a German amour, 169;
the result, 170;
his disappearance from Mainz, 171
Zola, Émile, La Terre in the dugout, 10;
La Débâcle as an irritant to hunger, 53