Horace Gray Gilliland

I will now refer, if I may, to one or two little notes which I made on the journey down from Saxony. In the first place, I never saw a single male porter at any station. The guards on trains were all women; and when the train ran slowly through any sort of farmed land, we saw groups of old men and little children doing some sort of work in the fields, although it was November, and one would think there was not very much to be done. I never saw a single male between the ages of fourteen and fifty-five either in the streets or towns, on the farms or elsewhere. It was as if Germany had been absolutely depopulated of males between those ages. What they have done with their unfits goodness knows.

In order to pass into the fortress of Ingolstadt it was first necessary to enter by the guard-house gate that bordered the road, and which was composed of sheet iron. From there forty yards brought you to a large iron grid, protecting the approach to the bridge passing over the moat. This grid, as well as the guard-house gate, was kept locked and guarded night and day. On being passed through the grid and over the moat, the main entrance to the fortress was approached over a paved causeway. The gate consisted of a pair of massive steel doors, folding in the middle, and built into the stonework of the lower works. These stoneworks were protected from artillery fire by large earthworks, surmounting to a great height above them, set out in battlements and caponiers, with artillery platforms. On entering the fortress we found ourselves in one of the darkest, dampest, and most forbidding-looking places I was ever in, the damp and darkness being caused by the earthworks overhead, which rose to a height of thirty-five feet from the roof of the stoneworks. The whole interior was afterwards discovered to be filthy in the extreme. Opposite is a plan of the fortress looking down through the earthworks.

On entering these gloomy portals, we were immediately conducted to the commandant’s quarters, which were situated next to the entrance. Here we were searched, but nothing of consequence was discovered. My first impression of the commandant was a good one. It was not long before I discovered it to be erroneous, as will be seen hereafter.

After our examination we were led to our cell, which was to be my home for seven months. It did not look inviting. A general description of the fortress is necessary, in order that the reader may understand subsequent events. With thehelp of the plan this should not be very difficult.

FORTRESS OF INGOLSTADT

BAVARIA

“FORT Nº. 9”

The living-rooms assigned to the prisoners were a series of tunnel-shaped cells, running along the north and south fronts of the fortress. These were connected by a long stone corridor, and divided into two wings by the main entrance, as shown on the plan. Each cell was connected to its neighbour by a small archway, which had been partitioned off in order to make separate compartments. These partitions were in some cases made of wood, in others they had been bricked up. The cells were twenty-six feet long by fifteen feet broad, and contained six officers each. Thus, with six beds, a dining-table, a cooking-stove (supplied by ourselves), and a space set apart to act as a kitchen and scullery, there was not very much room. The roof being arched like a tunnel, it was not possible to get the full benefit of the floor-space, since one could not stand upright if near the walls. These walls were made of granite, badly whitewashed over and exuding moisture. During any kind of damp weather the festoons of cobwebs which helped to adorn the ceiling glistened like a long grotto. On one side of the cells a small drain, excavated out of the wall, acted as a passage for the waters above. This drain opened out into the cell by a small trap-door, through which one could both hear and see the continual drip, drip of water, which in rainy weather formed itself into a small stream, occasionally flooding over into the cell. At all times a large ring of damp covered the floor in its proximity.

As before explained, the cells were approached by a long stone corridor running parallel with them, lighted by skylights at every forty or fifty yards, which pierced upwards through the earthworks above them. These, however, admitted very little light, except when the sun was shining. One was always in danger of bumping up against somebody walking in the opposite direction; in fact, a good many hard knocks were received in this way. The latrines were situated at the bottom of each of these corridors. This is not a subject which one cares to enlarge upon, but in this history it is necessary, in order to form a correct idea of the conditions under which we lived. These latrines consisted of a mere hole in the stone floor, with no form of drainage. Consequently the atmosphere in the corridor became at times almost unbearable, since the corridor acted as a sort of flue to the latrines, with which it was directly connected, the final result of this being that, when officers passed in and out of these rooms, a certain amount of the disgusting odour penetrated into the cells. Thus we had to sleep, feed, and live in one of these cells, attacked from inside by insanitary conditions, living in a dirty, damp, badly lighted stone cell, menaced from the outside by mosquitoes and miasma rising off the waters of the moat, on to which the cells looked through very heavily barred windows. The floors were made of asphalt, which struck cold into one’s very marrow, so that the majority of us were always stiff with rheumatism.

At first we were allowed to take exercise in the hollows marked X and Y in the plan, also to walk round the ramparts of the protecting earthworks. But this was very soon put a stop to, owing to an attempt to escape over the moat; and, finally, the only exercise-ground allowed us was that marked Z on the plan, immediately beneath the drawbridge and main entrance, a space a little larger than a tennis-court for some three hundred of us to exercise in. To the reader it must seem almost incredible that even a Hun would incarcerate a prisoner of war in a hell-hole such as this, immediately after having undergone a very serious operation; but so it was.

Having given a rough sketch of the prisoners’ accommodation in the fortress, I now propose to record the events of an ordinary average day. Appell, or roll-call, was at 7.30 in the morning, and held in the cells. The intimation of the Appell was heralded by an enormous alarm-bell fitted in each wing. After this bell had sounded no officer was allowed to leave his cell under any circumstances. The Boche N.C.O. and one sentry visited the cells in turn, counting six officers in each cell. The N.C.O. entered the cells from the corridor in order to make this count, the sentry remaining outside in order to prevent an officer who had been already counted from proceeding down the corridor to a cell which had not been counted, and thus being counted again. The necessity for this was, in the event of an officer escaping another being counted in twice would allow the escaper time to get away from the camp, should he have been fortunate enough to get clear.

After the Appell breakfast was served to us by the French orderly allotted to our cell. The reader must not imagine we had the use of the orderly all day; he had numerous other duties to perform for the Boche. He usually made our beds and emptied the slops (not always), and occasionally did the washing up after meals. He also fetched our fresh water in a bucket. The breakfast consisted of a large cupful of hot coffee, already mixed with milk. As a matter of fact it was made of ground acorns and a small percentage of chicory, and was quite undrinkable. This, with three ounces of black bread, which chiefly consisted of potato peelings, bran, and sawdust, was all we had for breakfast. At the midday meal we received five potatoes for six officers, or a swede weighing about 1½ lb., or seventeen sticks of tinned asparagus. Each cell had its ration en bloc, so that whatever food came was divided up amongst the six people in each cell. For supper a breakfast-cupful of soup, made of ground white beans (sometimes edible, but not often), was provided.

The above constituted the regular rations. Besides these we received other rations: 45 grammes of meat each per week, including bone, and occasionally some stinking fish, so bad that it could not be kept in the cell for more than a minute or two. The other rations were fifteen lumps of sugar each per month; 1 lb. of tea (cut from the stem) per six officers, usually twice during the month; and, lastly, a sherry-glassful of rum every six weeks for the six of us, and a soup-plateful of tinned fruit. All the food which was not provided as a daily ration was only given by the Boches in order that they might be able to bring out a list showing how well they fed their prisoners. This last was principally for the edification of the American Ambassador. The following really looks quite well: Rum, Sugar, Tea, Meat, Bread, Soup, Vegetables, Potatoes, Fruit, Fish.

But all that glitters, etc.—as will be seen by my description of how this food was made and distributed. Soon after the morning Appell we would hurry to the bath, or so-called bath. Only a drawing by Heath Robinson could possibly do justice to it. No words could describe the extraordinarily primitive arrangements. A cement cauldron, on the top of which rested a number of large basins, containing the water to be heated. One-third of a sack of coal was allowed three days a week, in order to heat the water in these basins, which must suffice for the ablutions of three hundred officers. The water, when hot, was ladled out with a magnified soup-tureen by hand, and thrown into a bath. From there the water was pumped up by hand to a series of beer-casks, resting on a wooden frame and partitioned off so as to have one cask over each compartment. The bather then proceeded to let loose the water in the barrels by operating a rough valve, when the water, which was practically cold, owing to the many vicissitudes to which it had been subjected, poured out in a slow trickle upon the bather. Nevertheless, there was a terrific scramble for the bath daily. One could have overlooked the fact of this Stone Age arrangement had the place been kept clean, but the filth of it was indescribable. Streams of soapy water running over the mud floor had rendered it something akin to axle grease. Great care had to be taken in order not to slip; for to slip, which one often did, meant being covered in filth, which no amount of washing in cold water would remove.

After having completed the morning’s ablution under these delightful conditions, one or other of the officers in each cell would be told off to cook the breakfast and lay the table. This was usually taken in turn, and a very good breakfast we had too—that is, when our parcels were arriving from home regularly. No knives, forks, spoons, or plates were supplied to us, also no utensils for cooking. We were forced to buy our own stove. The coal which was supplied to us every second day would be equal to two small scuttlefuls. This had to do for warming the cell and for cooking all the necessary food. There were times when this coal allowance diminished considerably below the amount, especially during the coldest period. At one time we could only afford to have the fire lit after 12 noon. This was in January, when the thermometer stood at thirty-two degrees Centigrade below freezing-point. Let the reader imagine what that means in a stone cell, situated thirty-five feet beneath the earth. Certainly we did not suffer from damp, since everything was ice. Our drainage-vent was solid ice about a foot thick.

It has been explained that in November we were allowed to exercise on the ramparts, which formed a very pleasant walk round. From this height a good view could be obtained of the surrounding country. There were no notices up explaining exactly which part of the ramparts we were allowed to frequent. We therefore went all over them without hindrance. There were six sentries posted on the caponiers overlooking the moat; therefore there was no earthly reason why we should be debarred from walking or sitting anywhere on the ramparts, since every part was overlooked by sentries. Apart from this, in order to descend from the ramparts to the level of the moat, one would be compelled to go down a very steep bank of some fifty feet. The escaper would then find himself shooting into the arms of the outer ring of sentries stationed inside and on a level with the moat, with sentries on both sides of it.

Nevertheless, after we had been allowed to roam at will over the ramparts, one day the sentry on the main caponier suddenly and without warning opened fire on two Russian officers lying near the breastworks beneath him, who were taking advantage of a short spell of sunshine. The sentry fired at them for no apparent reason. Fortunately for the Russians they were not hit, though it was only a matter of inches, as the sentry was not more than sixty paces from them. This caused, of course, a fearful commotion in the camp. The sentry very nearly got mobbed by the prisoners. In fact, I thought it was coming, and did my best to calm them, since the prisoners must be the losers in the end, fists being of very little use against rifles, especially inside a fortress. Within a minute or two the interior of the fortress was flooded with guards from the guard-room, and the prisoners were herded to their cells and locked in.

The commandant was in a great state of agitation, knowing very well that it would not take much to make the smouldering embers of the prisoners’ overcharged feelings burst into flames. The worm will turn, even if it has no means of defence, and our treatment was rapidly nearing the limit of petty persecution. After this the use of the ramparts and interior exercise-grounds was debarred to us, so that we only had the small paved area at the entrance to the fortress to exercise in.

Towards the end of November the weather began to get extremely cold, and in consequence our conditions became unbearable, owing to the lack of sufficient coal for heating purposes. This led to another little attention from the Boches similar to that described above. A batch of prisoners were transferred from the fort to some other camp, and this left vacant one of the cells. This was too good an opportunity to miss, since possibly a portion of coal might be left by the officers just gone. One of the British officers therefore paid a visit to the empty cell. There was nothing to hinder him from doing so, for he merely had to proceed down the corridor from his own cell till he reached the other one. Immediately, however, he put his head in at the door the sentry outside shot at him through the grated window. Fortunately he missed him, but that was not the fault of the sentry. Of course we complained at such disgraceful treatment, and the commandant said he would severely rate the sentry, but nothing ever came of it in the way of redress.