[Sidenote: Obligation of Allies to Rumania.]
This, then, is the case of Rumania, and if we and the other Allies have not a moral obligation to the King and Queen and the government of that little country, to support them in every way possible, then surely we have no obligation to any one.
Sentiment, however, is not the only factor in the Rumanian case. There is also the problem of sound policy. In spite of all her distress and her discouragements Rumania has been able to save from the wreckage, and to reconstruct, an army which it is said can muster between three and four hundred thousand men.
[Sidenote: Rumanian army well drilled.]
These soldiers are well drilled by French officers, filled with enthusiasm and fighting daily, and are even now diverting enemy troops toward Rumania which would otherwise be available for fighting British, French, and American troops in the west.
The Rumanians are the matrix of the Russian left flank, and if, through lack of support and the necessities of life, they go out of the war, the solidity of the Russian left is destroyed and the capture of Odessa probably foreordained.
A few hundred million dollars would probably keep Rumania fighting for another year. It is a conservative estimate to state that it will take ten times that amount, and at least six months" delay, to place the equivalent number of trained American troops on any fighting front.
[Sidenote: Every a.s.sistance should be given.]
It is, I think, obvious that from the point of view of sound military policy, as well as moral and ethical obligation, every American whose heart is in this war should be behind the President of the United States without reserve, in any effort he may make or recommend, in extending a.s.sistance to Rumania in this the hour of her greatest peril.
[Sidenote: Germany"s treatment of prisoners of war.]
Prisoners taken by the Germans were overworked and disciplined with much insolence and cruelty. For infractions of their iron rules the Germans inflicted the severest penalties. The food supplied was insufficient and of very poor quality, so that men might actually have starved had it not been for boxes sent from home through the Red Cross. In the following chapter, a Canadian soldier, who finally escaped after three unsuccessful attempts, describes the life of prisoners and other workers in the Westphalian coal mines.
SIXTEEN MONTHS A WAR PRISONER
PRIVATE "JACK" EVANS
Copyright, Forum, May 1918.
I was in Germany as prisoner of war from June, 1916, to September, 1917.
[Sidenote: Captured at third battle of Ypres.]
[Sidenote: A giant sh.e.l.l blows up the dugout.]
My story starts with my capture at the third battle of Ypres. The Fourth Canadian Mounted Rifles were in the front line at Zillebeke. We had been terribly pounded by German artillery, in fact, almost annihilated. After a hideous night, morning, June 2, 1916, dawned beautiful and clear. At 5.30 I turned in for a little sleep with four other fellows who made up the machine-gun crew with me. Lance Corporal Wedgewood, in charge of the gun, remained awake to clean it. I had just got into a sound sleep when it seemed as if the whole crust of the earth were torn asunder in one mammoth explosion, and I found myself buried beneath sandbags and loose earth. I escaped death only by a miracle and managed to dig my way out.
A giant sh.e.l.l had blown up our dugout. Two of the boys were killed.
"We"re in for it," said Wedgewood. "They"ll keep this up for a while and they"ll come over. We must get the gun out."
[Sidenote: German barrage almost wipes out the Fourth.]
The gun had been buried by the explosion, but we managed to get it out and were cleaning it up again when another trench mortar sh.e.l.l came over. It destroyed all but 300 rounds of ammunition. Then the bombardment started in earnest. Sh.e.l.ls rained on us like hailstones. The German artillery started a barrage behind us that looked almost like a wall of flame; so we knew that there was no hope whatever of help reaching us.
Our men dropped off one by one. The walls of our trench were battered to greasy sand heaps. The dead lay everywhere. Soon only Wedgewood, another chap, and myself were left.
"They"ve cleaned us out now. The whole battalion"s gone," he said.
As far as we could see along the line there was nothing left, not even trenches--just churned-up earth and mutilated bodies. The gallant Fourth had stood its ground in the face of probably the worst h.e.l.l that had yet visited the Canadian lines and had been wiped out!
It was not long before the other fellow was finished by a piece of shrapnel. I was wounded in the back with a splinter from a sh.e.l.l which broke overhead and then another got me in the knee. I bled freely, but luckily neither wound was serious. About 1.30 we saw a star sh.e.l.l go up over the German lines.
"They"re coming!" cried Wedgewood, and we jumped to the gun.
[Sidenote: The two men remaining fire the machine gun.]
The Germans were about seventy-five yards off when we got the gun trained on them. We gave them our 300 rounds and did great damage; the oncoming troops wavered and the front line crumpled up, but the rest came on.
[Sidenote: Captured by Germans.]
What followed does not remain very clearly in my mind. We tried to retreat. Every move was agony for me. We did not go far, however. Some of the Germans had got around us and we ran right into four of them. We doubled back and found ourselves completely surrounded. A ring of steel and fierce, pitiless eyes! I expected they would butcher us there and then. The worst we got, however, was a series of kicks as we were marching through the lines in the German communication trenches.
[Sidenote: The night in a stable at Menin.]
We were given quick treatment at a dressing station and escorted with other prisoners back to Menin by Uhlans. The wounded were made to get along as best they could. We pa.s.sed through several small towns where the Belgian people tried to give us food. The Uhlans rode along and thrust them back with their lances in the most cold-blooded way. We reached Menin about 10 o"clock that night and were given black bread and coffee--or something that pa.s.sed by that name. The night was spent in a horse stable with guards all around us with fixed bayonets. The next day we were lined up before a group of German officers, who asked us questions about the numbers and disposition of the British forces, and we lied extravagantly. They knew we were lying, and finally gave it up.
[Sidenote: In cattle trucks to Dulmen camp.]
During the next day and a half, traveling in cattle trucks, we had one meal, a bowl of soup. It was weak and nauseating. We took it gratefully, however, for we were nearly starved.
[Sidenote: Food bad and insufficient.]
Finally we arrived at Dulmen camp, where I was kept two months. The food was bad, and very, very scanty. For breakfast we had black bread and coffee; for dinner, soup (I still shudder at the thought of turnip soup), and sometimes a bit of dog meat for supper, a gritty, tasteless porridge, which we called "sand storm." We used to sit around with our bowls of this concoction and extract a grim comfort from the hope that some day Kaiser Bill would be in captivity and we might be allowed to feed him on "sand storm."
[Sidenote: The American Amba.s.sador"s visit.]
While I was at Dulmen we had quite a number of visitors. One day Mr.
Gerard, the American Amba.s.sador, appeared. He looked us over with great concern and asked us a number of questions. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked as he was leaving.
"See if you can get them to give us more food," one of us begged.
"I shall speak to the camp commander about it," promised Mr. Gerard.
I do not doubt that he did so--but there was no change in the menu and no increase in the quant.i.ties served.
[Sidenote: Arrival at the coal mine.]
After two months at Dulmen prison camp we got word that we were to be sent to work on a farm. We conjured up visions of open fields and fresh air and clean straw to sleep in and perhaps even real food to eat. They loaded fifty of us into one car and sent us off, and when we reached our farm we found it was a coal mine!
As we tumbled off the train, stiff, weary, and disappointed, we were regarded curiously by a small group of people who worked in the mines.
They were a heavy looking lot--oldish men with beards, and dull, stolid women. They regarded us with sullen hostility, but there was no fire in their antagonism. Some of the men spat and muttered "Schweinhunds!" That was all.
[Sidenote: The prison camp.]
We were marched off to the "Black Hole." It was a large camp with large frame buildings, which had been erected especially for the purpose.