TRAGEDY OF THE WAR.

Press, Volume LV, Issue 16424, 18 January 1919, Page 13

TRAGEDY OF THE WAR.

PLIGHT OF BRITISH PRISONERS

GHOSTS OF ONCE PllOI'D MEN

fßv Philip Cibbs.)

"With the British Armies. Xov. 29.

By slosv stages, leaving a space of six and miles or so behvocn them and the retreatinf; enemy, our troops of the 2nd and 4th. Armies arc drawing near to the German frontier. Going out from Xamur yesterday I went to oar further outpost fine held by a cavalry scrcen at the town of Huy on the Meuse, some twelve and a half miles beyond Xamur itself. Later in the daj' L saw the arrival of the first patrols of Canadian infantry. "Wliero is our front line?" I asked one of tho men, and not trying to be funny, but with a military gravity, lie said: ''In the centre of tho nigh street, sir.'-'

Kemembering the old front lines which were drawn across the infernal ruin of battlefields, and where no man showed, his body without death, the new front' lino struck me as l>eing very funny, and I enjoved the joke of it as 1 wont through Huy and looked through, plate glass windows (there was never a window-pano within fifteen miles of tho old front line) at boxes of chocolates and sweetmeats; at Tauscliiiitz editions of English authors, at portraits of King Albert and his Queen, and at fancy goods in many bright shops, all hung with flags, such as one mignt find ill Canterbury or Exeter the week before Christmas in times of peace. It was a good place for tho frontline, anil that was certainly the opinion of the cayalrymon who strolled up and down the streets under the glad eyes of Belgian girls, who greeted them as heroes and deliverers, according to the words of welcome which hung in streamers across the roadways. . The nq.me of Huy, this stopping-placo on the way to the Rhine, is not famous in world history, as far as I know, but is a picturesque old town of" considerable sizo. where the broad Meuso sweeps around in a sudden curve below the high, limestone cliffs, which all tho way from Namur are sheer above the deep gorge of the river valley, brown and jagged, like the battlefields and keeps ana watch-towers of mediaeval castles. PACKED WITH. PRISONERS* On the broad waters of tho Meusc arc many barges which pleasure boats pass in'time of pcace, and down the streanv from-.Huy came somo of those small steamers to-day, crowded with passengers. They stood tightly together on the upper and lower decks, and by a. glance I knew what manner of mon they were*. They were boatloads of liberated prisoners— irench, British, and Italian —coming toXamur to swell the crowds which, as I wrl .j' and all day long, are gathered outside the railway station there waiting for trains to take them to another station, on their homeward way. Those "boatloads on the Meuse wero luckv cues, easod at last of their pacKS and ' able at last to rest their weary foeb Scores of -thousands of their cortirades in misery are tramping along the road back from the German lmes. Thoy oomo straggling along in small "roups, keeping company by some tie of comradeship mado by . the roadside, the easing of one man's load by stronger arms, the sharing of a bit of bread, common memories of misery, or a word of greeting in a tongue they understand... •. ■ .-i 3 , .b . Oii' mv .iourney to 2samuri and .joSr ; terdav outward from Nannir, I met .thousands-of. them, and they all had , the> same look of men who were pusiiin.«' on to some goal of their heart s desire. Though the packs on their shoulders press hard, and their tirou feet stumble over every stone and' rut, they were* homing birds, but with a far i [ call still to Manchester and Shropshire and Padua and Mantua , and Poictiers and Toulouse. v "- > HUMAN PACK ANIMALS. One could not tell to what army they belonged bv their clothes, for many of them were'in German prison camp uniforms, with the long Dlack coats and round b!a?k caps served out to them after six months' captivity, and others in German tunics, and French soldiers and' Italians with British khaki, while British soldiers had odd garments or all nations, picked up on tho way hack or doled 'out to them in.German camps; but some still wore the clothes they wore captured in, stained and tattered in months or captivity. 'lhero was a Cossack in a gray astrachan cap and a long-waisted coat above heavy boots, and thero ■ were Ohatiseurs Alpines in • blue bonnets" and knicker-bockers, and 1 Belgians in slacks and tassoled caps. Each man had a story to tell which would hold so much of the drama of this war and tragedy that it would take a vear of tolling; but those to whom I spoke; the meu of the put it all into a few words of bitterness. . .. .1 r "Wo had a bad time," said one of them. "Thev starved us so that wo had to stew nettles and mangel-wurzels to keep ourselves alive. Many of us died. They worked us hard to the end, and when we could not work they lashed us.'' Two men I met to-day had been harnessed to carts . and made to drag a transport on tho German retreat from Demappo. The v were ill and weaklooking fellows, once of the 3rd Division, and afterward attached to the 19th and 63ra divisions —Shropshire lads, both of whom had been captured aftor March 21st. "WOMEN AMONG THEM. Others I met were of the Bth and 66th Divisions i\nd were taken prisoner at Marceliave. near Amiens; on the way of the British retreat. There were women among those plodders home, sent to prison in Germany for offences against German rule or deported from Lille and Douai and other towns for enforcod labour in the fields. As bravely as the men, they trudged the weary miles with packs strapped over their shoulders, dishevelled but with an eager look in their eyes. One boy to whom I gave a lift was 16 years old and looked younger, except for his gravity, but ho had been a prisoner for four years in a German prison. "Why?'' I asked, astounded by his words, and he said: "For smuggling over xlie frontier to Antwerp, where I belong." fie was carrying a big wooden box and a haversack, and the straps had cut his shoulders, and he had a haggard look, but in his eyes - was tho strong courage of a man who bad won his way through suffering. Small boys waved at him and said "Good luck" as lie drove the Inst part of his journey to Nainur, but he never waved back or smiled at them. Ho had lost his boyhood. All this human traffic pours along the road*, and on tho roadsides are nnhuman things which tell of the tragedy of an empire and the fall of great amThey are the material of war, k>. t .behind by tho German army according to the terms of the armistice. PLAY "WITH HEAVIES. At Niveiie 1 passed nuudrcds or German guiu. liinueta, ambulances, aeroplanes, and transpoit waggons. One held near Nivello had been'a German aerodrome and airplune factory, with enormous hangars built in brick and big workshops. All the plant was abandoned to tho British, and airplane wings lay.piled up with the iron cross painted on therm, rind complete airplanes were standing as though ready for flight, as their pilots had t left them. Belgian children were playing with long-muzzled anti-aircraft guns, elaborately camouflaged, and iteeping up the barrels of long-range iioavies. ✓

All along the way to Namur and e-. yond to Huy there were trails or t" €S derelict guns and transports, a though abandoned by the enemy flight. Many of the waggons ana motor trucks'had been overturned oy German .soldiers and some of Z t? d } were burned and others smashed, ca even they stood whole and udWok and they had a sorry look, for i'l- - transport had worn out an been patched up in a makeshift wa y* liis staff cars, with the Germa eagle on the panels, had iron whee or wooden rims, and his trucks were clumsy looking, and his waggons, po - bellied and patcliworked like a collection of ancient, carts falling to pieces in a backyard of a museum. POLITE YOUNG MEN. Tiiis material, to fulfil the terms of the armistice, is being handed over b J German officers who have safe conduc into the British lines. A party or thirty German soldiers, with their othcers, rode through Namur to-day under a white flag, with an escort o Australians to make an inventory or this material, and in the house where I am staying there are three German officers ou the floor below, and one under officer on the same floor as myself. A British soldier stands guard outside their door for their protection, winking at the chambermaid as she goes up with hot water, but otherwise carrying out his duty with proper gravity. The' German officers are polite young men, anxious to pleas©. One of them has an English wife, and another is related to an officer in the _ French Mission," and thoy are fulfilling the terms of the armistice as far as they are concerned with scrupulous accuracy and without a show of rancour. In this beautiful town of Namur, where the Sambre flows to the Meuse below- the high citadel on the rocks the British soldiers have been well receivod. and they are walking about the streets where long banners meet across the houses wondering how the enemy, who is supposed to be starving. can have passed by so l many butcher shops, where moat is hanging in abundance, and so many sweet shops, tvhere there are buns and cakes of many kinds, without _ stripping them, bare, and onlv guessing the reason when they ask the price. German officers could huy such things en route, but not the soldiers. KIND TO OUR BOYS. To the prisoners, of war on the tramp back to liberty, the Belgian peoplo have been kind and generous, loading them with food at every village. This must never be forgotten. As soon as the Germans left, Belgian civilians went into the military hospital at Namur, where they found many sick Britishers utterly abandoned, without food and without blankets, and . the women of Namur sot to work at once to nurse them and feed them, thus saving their lives. The men are grateful and in answer to the cry of "Vive I'Angleterre," they shout "Good Old Belgium."