The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1919-02-13
CHAPTER XXI.
A Visit From Mr.. Gerard.

A Visit From Mr.. Gerard.
Late that night we arrived at Dull
men, Westphalia. We were rousted
out of the carriages, mustered on the
platform, counted, then drilled through
the streets. In spite Of the lateness,
the streets were pretty well filed with
people, and they zig-zagged us through
all the streets they could, so that all
the people would have chance to see
the crazy men, as they called US. Most
of the people were women, and as soon
as they saw us coming, they began
singing the watch on the Rhine" or
some other German song. and 1t was
| funny to see windows opening and fat
| fraus, with night-caps on, sticking
their heads out Of the windows. They
would give us a quick once-over, and
pipe up like a boatswain: "Schwein-
hund-Vaterland-W am Rhein"
all kinds of things and all mixed up.
So we gave them "Tfpperary" and
"Pack Up Your Troubles" and
showed them how to sing. Our guards
had no ear for music and tried to stop
US, but though they knocked several
men down, we did not stop until we
had finished the song. Then, after we
had admitted to each other that we
were not downhearted, we shut up.
We would have done SO, anyway, be-
cause by this time we were on the out
skirts of the town, and we needed all
the breath we had. The road we were
on was just one long sheet Of ice, and
we could hardly walk more than four
steps without slipping and falling. My
shoes had wooden soles, and it was
just one bang after another, with the
ice and myself trying to see which
could hit the hardest. Every time we
fell-smash came a rifle over the
back.
was getting pretty tired, so said
to some of the fellows that I was go
ing to sit down and rest, and they said
they would also. So we dropped out
and waited until the guards behind
had just about caught up with US, and
then we would go on. We did this
several times until they got on to US,
and we could not do it any more.
Up the road piece fell again, and
this time did not care what hap
pened, so / just sat there in the
Instead Of giving me the bayonet, he
made me take off my shoes-that Is.
he took them off of me with a knife
through the strings-and I had to walk
the rest of the way in my bare feet.
It was about four miles altogether
from the station to the camp.
When we got near the camp, all the
boys came out Of the barracks and
lined up along the barbed wire, and
yelled us welcome. We asked them
If they were dOwnhearted, and they
said no, and we said we were not eth
cr. We could hardly see them, but
they began yelling again when we got
nearer, and asked US, us there anyone
there from Queenstown" and then
Hull, and Portsmouth, and Dover, and
Toronto and a lot of other places.
I did not pay much attention until
I heard, ANY Americans there?" and
yelled back, ''Yes, where are you7"
Barracks 6-B, Grippe g."
"Where from?" yelled.
"Boston. Where're you FRONT"
''The q. S. A. and Atlantic ports.
See you later"
So, the next morning, went over to
his barracks and asked for the Yank.
They pointed him out to me, where he
was lying on the floor. / went over
and laid down with him, and we had
quite talk. will not give his name
here for certain reasons.
he had received several wounds at
the time he was taken prisoner. He
had been in the Canadian service for
two years. We used to talk about
New York and Boston and the differ
ent places we knew in both towns, and
we also talked a lot about the rotten
treatment we were receiving, and tried
to cook up some plan of escape. But
every one we could think of had been
used by some one else, and either had
failed, or the Huns had fixed it so the
plan could not be tried again. We
doped out some pretty wild schemes at
that. Altogether, we became great
pals. and were together as much as
possible at Dulmen. The day left
the camp, he gave me q ring made
from shell, and told me to get it safely
back to the States, but some one stole
1t at Brandenburg.
One day while was in his barracks
an Englishman stepped out of the door
for some reason or other, and though
he did not say word to Fritz, in two
minutes he was dead, in cold blood.
We never knew why they killed him.
At Swinemunde and Neustrelftz, I
must admit that the Germans had US
pretty badly buffaloed, but at Dulmen
the prisoners were entirely different.
Duimen was the receiving camp for
the whole western front, and the pris-
oners there got to be pretty tough
eggs. as far as Fritz was concerned.
before they had been In camp many