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172 WITH THE GERMAN ARMIES IN THE WEST
a tub peeling potatoes for their own dinner. Whilst I was
sketching them, we had a chat on general topics. They were
surprised at the kindly treatment they received in German
captivity. They had expected something quite different.
" One can’t expect more than a roof over one’s head, straw
to lie on and sufficient food to eat, and all that we get here.
We are on friendly terms with our German guards. They often
offer us cigars or chocolate. We should quite well be able to
live on good neighbourly terms with the Germans." The
Frenchmen further told me that they all had wives and
children at home who of course were anxious about their fate.
They wondered whether the war would last long, whether
they would be taken to the interior of Germany, and whether
they would be allowed to associate with their own country-
men in captivity so as not to feel too lonely. I was able to
give them comforting answers to their questions. One of them
said that he had seen quite fifty of his comrades being killed
at the spot where he was taken prisoner. Another had lost
an old school-fellow by his side, after they had long been
together in the trenches. The five prisoners from southern
France were calm, self-possessed and sensible men, whose
views on the war had sobered down considerably since the
day they first heard the reveille in Bordeaux and Narbonne.
The glamour and the gloss had disappeared, and the trium-
phant chant of the victory which they had dreamt of, had died
down to be succeeded by the naked, bleak reality. Now
they saw the tricolor but dimly, as through a haze, and the
music of the Marseillaise no longer sounded in their ears.
We spent the evening in the mess together with about
thirty officers. The discussion was of course about the events
of the day and the hopes of the morrow, and about the news
brought by the latest newspapers from all parts of the front.
One of those present told us that 270 military trains a day
had passed through Kirn (between Kreuznach and Birken-
feld) during the first days of mobilisation, whilst another
mentioned that when a regiment at Eiffel was told by its
colonel that Britain had declared war, they broke into frenzied
cheering. These war pictures were accompanied by the
peaceful tones of a gramophone—which not long ago must
have had very different listeners ! The mess was housed at
the residence of a French officer, and I had a look at the
pleasing and attractive family portraits in an album, with
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