That incident was long ago.  It is important to relate that since the beginning of the battle of the Somme there is, if I was correctly informed, a marked improvement in the condition of English prisoners all over Germany—­not as regards food supplied by the authorities, because the food squeeze naturally affects the prisoners as it does their guardians, but in other ways.

In addition to the British capturing numbers of German hostages on the Somme to hold against the treatment of their men in Germany, I think I may claim without undue pride that much good work has been done by the American Ambassador and his staff of attaches, who work as sedulously on behalf of the prisoners as though those prisoners had been American.

The German authorities hate and respect publicity and force in matters not to their liking, and Mr. Gerard’s fearlessness in reports of conditions and urgent pleas for improvement have been of great service.  All the threats and bluster of Germany have failed to cow him.

To continue my narrative of the Cockney soldier in Russian uniform.  So many Englishmen are in Russian uniform, Belgian uniform, French uniform, or a mix-up uniform that there is no possibility of my Cockney Russian being recognised by the authorities, and the photograph which my neutral friend took of him and me was taken under the very eyes of his Landsturmer.

“Heiny,” said the Russian Cockney, “is fed up with the war.  Aren’t you, old Heiny?  During the last few weeks a fresh call for more men has cleared the district of everything on two legs.  We have had to work fourteen hours a day, and I wonder what my mates at home would think of 3 shillings pay for ten days’ work?”

I was able to comfort him by giving him some cigars, and a great deal of really true and good news about the war, all of which he repeated to Landsturmer Heinrich.  I suggested that this might be unwise.  “Not a bit of it,” he said.  “Lots of these old Germans are only too anxious to hear bad news, because they think that bad news will bring the thing to a stop.”

How true that remark was I knew from my minute investigations.  The incident was closed by the distant appearence of a Feldwebel (sergeant-major).  My Cockney vanished, and Heinrich patrolled onward.

This particular incident is not typical of the life of a British prisoner in Germany, but it is indicative of the position many of the 30,000 prisoners have taken up by reason of their strong individuality and extraordinary cheerfulness and confidence.  My impression of them is of alert, resourceful men (their escapes have been wonderful)—­men who never know when they are beaten.  If Britain has sufficient of these people she cannot possibly lose the war.

* * * * *

The world does not need reminders such as that of Wittenberg or of such singularly accurate narratives as several in Blackwood’s Magazine to know what has happened to British prisoners in Germany.