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288 WITH THE GERMAN ARMIES IN THE WEST
standing between officers and men is always the very best.
Such things as sour faces, grudging steps or disincUnation to
obey an order are absolutely unknown. Anyone showing
symptoms of this kind would be regarded with contempt by
everybody, and his life would be made unbearable by his own
comrades. The German language has a special word, Driicke-
berger, for individuals of that type, but the type itself is
extraordinarily rare. It is no secret how disciplinary short-
comings are punished in war time. But it is not in order to
avoid punishment that the German forces on land and sea do
their duty. It is because they all have a common end in view,
Germany’s salvation in this terrible crisis, Germany’s victory
over her enemies in every part of the world, Germany’s future
and honour.
On the way home we met an ammunition column clattering
along at full speed. The drivers were riding at full " manoeuvre
trot " and the horses of some wagons had even broken into
a gallop. The wagons with their murderous load rattled
heavily and noisily over the stone-paved road. It was easy to
tell that the men well knew there was no time to lose and that
some coast battery was in urgent need of fresh ammunition.
These columns, when really and seriously on the move, are a
joy and a feast to the eye.
A little further on we passed a contingent of fifty French
prisoners who were being taken into safe custody under a
German guard. The fighting had shorn their red and blue
uniforms of their lustre, and the men themselves looked pale
and tired. What a contrast to the marines and gunners we
had just seen ! But then joyous faces are not to be expected
from prisoners of war.
In the afternoon, accompanied by Bess and Schönfelder, I
made another excursion along the ideal automobile road
which skirts the coast north-eastward, just inside the long line
of dunes.
In the magnificent pavilion of the Royal (Knocke) Golf Club
we inspected a platoon of marine infantry, who seemed to be
having the time of their lives. Via Venduyne we went on to
Blankenberghe, where the sea promenade resembled that of
Ostend, except that the population had remained and in
addition had been reinforced by numberless refugees from
Brussels and elsewhere. The hotels had been taken possession
of by well-to-do people, and the beach was filled with a motley
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