“Next three men,” shouted the theatre orderly.

The next three were light cases.  They were dealt with very quickly.  Then the German hobbled across and several English wounded followed in rapid succession.  When the waiting-room was empty we went over to the Prep. and fetched the other Germans along.  There were no wounded arriving at the station at that moment, but we knew from the distant rumble of the bombardment that the Prep. would soon be crowded once again.

A number of British soldiers gathered round the entrance of the waiting-room, curious to see the prisoners and hear what they had to say.

“Ask ’em if they’re glad to be out of it.”

I put the question and there was a chorus of fervent “Ja’s” and “Gott sei Dank’s.”

They were all glad to be out of it.  No more fighting for them, Gott sei Dank!  War was no good, at least not for the common soldier.

“Ask him what he thinks of Hindenburg.”

A cheerful youngster from East Prussia answered:  “Der’s’ nicht besser als wir—­He’s no better than we are!”

“Did you ever see him?”

“Yes, he came into the trenches a week ago and gave us cakes and cigars.”

“But that was jolly sporting of him, wasn’t it?”

“He can keep his cigars—­he doesn’t have to lie in shell holes for days on end.”

“War’s no good,” said a small man with a protruding forehead and keen eyes and wearing a red-cross on his arm.  “Ich danke meinem Gott—­I thank my God that I’ve never taken up a rifle during the whole war, and I’ve been in it since the beginning.  No human being has lost his life through me, thank God.”

“Was fuer’n Zweck hat es—­What’s the good of shooting each other like this?  The heads ought to come and fight it out amongst themselves.”

“It’s good for politicians and profiteers—­fuer die ist’s gut.”

“Ask them what they think of the submarines.”

A Lieutenant of the Prussian Guard answered contemptuously that he didn’t think much of them.  He didn’t believe stories of food-shortage in England, he didn’t believe anything the papers said, they were all full of lies.

“Ask them if they’re satisfied with their treatment.”

Yes, they were all satisfied.  The Lieutenant pronounced it “blendend” (dazzling).  They had not eaten so much and such good food for months and months.  Oh it was good to be out of the fighting.  Yes, their treatment was perfect—­except for the thieving.  Why were British soldiers allowed to steal the buttons, caps, rings, and watches belonging to their prisoners?

A German private, a tall thin man with bushy eyebrows, who had not spoken hitherto, said he didn’t mind losing a few buttons—­but to rob a man of his marriage ring, that was very mean—­eine Gemeinheit—­his marriage ring had been taken from him:  he would have lost anything rather than that, for it always reminded him of home.