[Illustration:  Tom Bromley / In Red Cross overcoat with prison number and marked sleeve]

There were difficulties!

The camp was surrounded by a high board fence, and above the boards, barbed wire was tightly drawn, to make it uncomfortable for reaching hands.  Inside of this was an ordinary barbed-wire fence through which we were not allowed to go, with a few feet of “No Man’s Land” in between.

There were sentry-boxes ever so often, so high that the sentry could easily look over the camp.  Each company was divided from the others by two barbed-wire fences, and besides this there were the sentries who walked up and down, armed, of course.

There were also the guns commanding every bit of the camp, and occasionally, to drive from us all thought of insurrection, the Regular Infantry marched through with fixed bayonets.  At these times we were always lined up so we should not miss the gentle little lesson!

* * *

One day, a Zeppelin passed over the camp, and we all hurried out to look at it.  It was the first one I had seen, and as it rode majestically over us, I couldn’t help but think of the terrible use that had been made of man’s mastery of the air.  We wondered if it carried bombs.  Many a wish for its destruction was expressed—­and unexpressed.  Before it got out of sight, it began to show signs of distress, as if the wishes were taking effect, and after considerable wheeling and turning it came back.

Ropes were lowered and the men came down.  It was secured to the ground, and floated serenely beside the wood adjoining the camp....  The wishes were continued....

During the afternoon, a sudden storm swept across the camp—­rain and wind with such violence that we were all driven indoors....

When we came out after a few minutes—­probably half an hour—­the Zeppelin had disappeared.  We found out afterwards that it had broken away from its moorings, and, dashing against the high trees, had been smashed to kindling wood; and this news cheered us wonderfully!

* * *

A visitor came to the camp one day, and, accompanied by three or four officers, made the rounds.  He spoke to a group of us who were outside of the hut, asking us how many Canadians there were in Giessen.  He said he thought there were about nine hundred Canadians in Germany altogether.  He had no opportunity for private conversation with us, for the German officers did not leave him for a second; and although he made it clear that he would like to speak to us alone this privilege was not granted.  Later we found out it was Ambassador James W. Gerard.

It soon became evident that there were spies in the camp.  Of course, we might have known that no German institution could get along without spies.  Spies are the bulwark of the German nation; so in the Giessen camp there were German spies of all nationalities, including Canadian.