SCHWALBE, THE BULLY

Evening Post, Volume XC, Issue 92, 16 October 1915, Page 9

SCHWALBE, THE BULLY

ONE OF BELGIUM'S CONTROLLERS BLUSTER AND BRUTALITY. "Colonel Schwalbe is the greatest bully in the German army, and the funniest" (says a special correspondent of the Daily Express). Such is the judgment passed by universal consent on the German officer ir charge of the railway station of Esschen, the first Belgian village over the Dutch border-line ; the judgment is unanimous, and must be correct. Whenever people leave Rooeendaal for Belgium they are told : — "Give our kindest regards to Schwalbe. Don't forget." I don't think they do it, as it would mean uncountable days of gaol, but they keep an e>e onthe "crazy colonel," and they always enjoy him- It is a pity he cannot turn his present activities in Esschen into a music-hall sketch ; he would prove a first-class attraction. Colonel Schwalbe, physically, is not very different from the ordinary German officer of the Landsturra. He is tall, athletic, and wears a long, mud-stained, beer-staiifed beard. His .name means "swallow," and, though his roughness is more Prussian than bird-like, I am told he rst.r\ swallow any amount of eatables, and he does not fight shy before fifteen litres of beer every morning. AT HIS BEST. Every person who goes into Belgium, be he a Belgian or a neutral, is treated as a spy. He is questioned, searched, and stripped, with the usual Prussian refinement and tact. There Colonel Schwalbe is at his best. When an objection is raised by the victims, when they humbly submit that they are noi spies, that they are honest people, tra veiling with an honourable purpose,' Schwalbe flares up: — "What? Objections? Do you think you are still in Belgium here? You arc in Germany. Esechen is Germany, do you hear? DO YOU HEAR? We shall teach you to answer a Prussian officer. Where were you brought up ? In a stable, of course. We shall punch German manners into you !" And 60 on. People who get off with that sort of welcome are considered fortunate. Generally the Schwalbe lecture ends with arrest and a week's vacation in the Esschen prison. Hundreds, nay, thousands of innocent people have been locked up at Esschen, simply because Schwalbe did not like their looks. , The following adventure happened re cently to a distinguished neutral, a Dane living in Brussels, whom we will call Jensen. Mr. Jensen was returning to Belgium, and showed his passports to the inimitable Schwalbe, who, seeing the man's papers were in order, dared saj nothing. Suddenly he looked up at him and bellowed: — "Look here, you say you are a neutral. Do you know that you are doing something against the law? You have a yellow shirt, a red tie, and a black coat. Do you know what that means? That is the flag of what used to be Belgium. This is forbidden here, do you hear, even lor neutrals. Go and change your clothes immediately. Otherwise you will have to stop here. Do you hear? We shall teach_y° u nmnaersj I° v neutrals J"

CHANGE OF TONE. Mr. Jensen quietly drew out of his pocket a letter given to him by the German Minister at The Hague for Baron yon Bissing, the then viceroy in Belgium, recommending this distinguished neutral to the good graces of the German authorities in Belgium. When Schwalbe saw this letter he paused a minute, he read it, and then, getting fierce once more, thundered : — 'What! A letter to General yon Bissing? And you show that to me! Do you believe 1 take stock in letters? Mv duty comes first. You want to cheat me. lam not to be bought by leto _rs of that kiitd." ' Mi*. Jensen, for the &ake of peace, and because he had to be in Brussels that day, finally changed his tie. Then he was allowed to enter the Brussels train. As the train was about to start, Colonel Schwalbe's voice was heard howling aciobs the platform: — "Stop. I say, stop this train. Stop! I must see that .Jane again. Where is that confounded Dane?" "Here I am," Mr. Jensen meekly remarked. And suddenly Schwalbe became a civilised man again. Like every true Prussian, only fear, and fear of his superiors, can drive him into decency. Ton showed me a letter to General yon Bissing. Could I read it again?" he said. After he had read it, with a smile, ' a beastly, humble, and cowardly smile, he added : — "I am very sorry I did not read it correctly the first time. I hope you are not angry and that you will not complain in Brussels. You see, I have too much work here, and that irritates me. But 1 apologise respectfully." A WOMAN'S FATE. It is, however, with defenceless women that Schwalbe likes to play the part of a well-trained tormentor. Especially out-going women. All are in British pay and are spying for Great Britain, in his opinion. Some time ago a pretty young actress, a Belgian, was leaving the country to fulfil an engagement in a musichall at Buenos Aires. When she arrived at Esschen, on her way to Amsterdam, her three trunks were opened. In the first trunk only clothes were found, but in the second and third there was nothing except letters, and love letters -at that. The young actress had kept them all, and could not, she thought, part with them. This human feeling, touching as it is, could not appeal to a Schwalbe. "It is ' verboten ' to carry out letters," he screamed. " You knew it. Of course you did. Don't say you didn't. You are trying to fool me, but j r ou cannot do it. Abler people have tried, and failed. lam going to send you to prison, and you are going to stay there until all the letters are read and enquired into." The actress cried, implored for grace, explained that her steamer was leaving Amsterdam for South America two days later, that she had spent her last savings on her booking, that her letters were written years ago, and had no bearing on present events. All that did not help. Schwalbe, being a Prussian, and even a super-Prussian, was not to be moved. " Little liar !" was his comment. " A fortnight on straw on bread and water, that will teach you to get so many love letters." Two Landsturmers came, and the little actress was taken away to a dirty prison I cell. Perhaps she is still ther*,,