"KAMERAD!" "KAMERAD!"

Otago Witness, Issue 3330, 9 January 1918, Page 54

"KAMERAD!" "KAMERAD!"

HUMOURS OF HUN SURRENDERS

A feature of each big British offensive on the western front has been the large number of Hun prisoners captured by our dauntless and irresistible troops. In many instances the enemy has offered stout opposition before he would allow the imperturable Tommy to make him, as it were, "captive of his bow and spear"; but in most cases, especially of late, the Huns have been actually glad to surrender, and "Kamerad! Kamerad !" has risen to their lips with an alacrity and spontaneity which has frequently stiggested a sort of "surrender drill" carefully practised beforehand. This, indeed, is almost borne out by the manner of many of those erstwhile warriors when they do the Kamerad stunt. In the Delville Wood fight, for instance (and other fights too numerous to mention), they trooped out of the dug-outs in parade-like procession, holding out their papers and watches as propitiatory oiferOn another occasion an officer said he hoped he would be allowed to have his servant with him, as the servant was surrendering with the next batch ! Another Hun fell on his knees and offered his captor a three-mark note if he would spare his life. "And I hadn't the heart, when I took the note," said the Tommy, " to tell him that it wasn't worth threepence !" The story is told, too, of an officer captured with 24 men—four of them wounded and already ticketed for a German clearing station—who offered his gold watch, worth at least £3O, to the officer who took his surrender. When it was refused, he held it out to a sergeant, and then to a private, and finally put it back in his tunic with a puzzled look. They cannot understand their captors. The same kind of thing happens in almost every operation, for the German soldier still believes that the British will kill him if he is captured, and still has a hazy notion that perhaps he can buy his life with such valuables as he has about him. —"Like a Rat Hunt."— A sergeant described the assa\ilt at one part of the line as a parade ground affair. The Germans did not put up much of a fight, and when they saw his regiment coming for them they ran out to meet them and asked to bo taken prisoners. He saw one lad, about 19 years old, who, though wounded, was marching a party of 20 Germans back across No Man's Land. The boy enjoyed it immensely, and gave them the most detailed instructions at the top of his voice as to the way and formation in which they were to march.

" It was more like a rat hunt than anything else," said a corporal. "We went in one end, and the Germans—at least those who were lucky—came out at the other. One of the Boches offered me a pair of trousers if I would take him prisoner." A Glasgow officer, writing home, tcJis—-

as they all do—of his experiences in tho recent fighting. "It was a great business the capturing of prisoners," he says, "and unusually amusing, despite the grim work of the day. One old German, grey-bearded and bald, wandered among cur lot for quite a long time, but nobody would be reen going back with him. I think he eventually found the way,to the cage himself. There was keen competiton to cap--turo hefty ones, and some Avere big, brawny six-footers, and no mistake " Funny beyond words was the experience of a certain officer who came upon four Germans in an otherwise deserted stretch of trench, and, having previously emptied his revolver, paused in some uncertainty as they came rushing at him, jabbering in chorus. He retreated somewhat precipitately to call for help to secure the Bodies as prisoners, but the quartet ran faster than he did. and, overtaking him, proceeded to embrace him, to press all their belongings upon him, to supplicate him by tone and gesture to accept their surrender Although he marched in with dignified satisfaction at the head of his little bag, he did not hesitate to tell the story against himself.

Had Enough Of It!—

•A big, strapping Highlander, wounded on the head and left arm during the attack on the Arras front, told a correspondent that his brigade had. attacked east of Arras and taken four Boche lines with hardly a casualty to talk about. After that the German positions were very strong, and their resistance stiffened considerably. Also, their officers and N.C.O.'s began to drive them, with pretty frequent revolver shots from behind, instead of surrendering with them, as they had done in the front lines.

After Jock had got his two "pickets" hiu platoon officer ordered him back to have his wounds dressed, and on his way to the rear he fell in with a strange procession—a party of 60 Germans marching along in fours, with a German officer at their head. Jock looked and thought. Then he went up to the column, waved his rifle, and halted them. "Who's in charge here?" he asked. "I am, High^ lander. We've had enough of this war," replied the officer in quite good English. " Have ye no escort?" was Jock's next question. And then, when the Boche told him they had none, he said pityingly, "Well, then, I'll e'en tak' ye masel'." And he did, marching at their head like a sergeant-major until he reached one of our dressing stations, and was able to hand over his new command to the care of a regular escort. That, too, was a remarkable experience which befell Lieutenant Lovell Greene, son of Colonel Greene, of Natal, who was wounded the day before the Springboks attacked Delville Wood. He was taken prisoner and placed on a stretcher. An officer handed him over to the.care of four German soldiers till he could be removed to the rear. When the officer was out of sight one of the quartet of faithful guardians said to Lieutenant Greene, " Sea here, Ave yield ourselves as your preesoners." The wounded officer smiled at him and said, "That's a good joke; you have disarmed me and I am wounded, yet you say you are my prisoners. You are making game of me." •_... Said the spokesman of the four faithful guards. " Oh, no, it is not at all a game. We yield ourselves to you as preesoners. We know now that the British do not kill preesoners, and as we have had more than enough of fighting, we now go with you. We shall take you anywhere vou like. Where you want to go?" "Back to the British lines, of course." " All right. You point the way and we kom with you." Seeing the men were in earnest, Lieutenant Greene pointed a roundabout way to our lines, and they duly carried him there, yielding themselves without more ado. A Ceremonious Surrender. — When Captain 's company rushed a trench to our right (writes a second lieutenant in an Irish regiment) a German officer surendered in great style. He stood to attention, gave a clinking salute, and said in perfect English, " Sir, myself, this other officer, and 10 men are your prisoners." Captain .said, "Bight you are, old chap!" and they shook hands, the prisoners being led away immediately. At Pozieres an officer of the S 3 had a very laughable experience. He was working along a communication trench with a party of bombers, when he met a regular procession of Boches, all holding their hands well up, and led by one who carried an enormous cigar-box over his head. The British officer suspected some sort of foul play, of course. The Boches have played so many dirty tricks. But the fellow whipped open the big box and showed it had nothing in it but cigars, and explained as well as he could that it was by way of being a sort of propitiatory offering. He wound up by saying, "This war no good—no good at all, sir. Piccadilly again soon now, sir!" On one occasion, at least, Fritz was "argued" into captivity.' One of our Tommies, wounded and alone, was taken prisoner by a German soldier whom he encountered on the edge of a shell-crater. These two men were in No Man's Land between the German barrage and ours, like men on a strip of quiet earth between hell-fires. They were watched by an observing officer through his field-glasses. They sat down side by side and seemed to be talking together, indifferent to the explosions on either side of them. They oxchanged shoulder-straps and cigarettes and souvenirs. Then, as we now know by the British soldier's own story, he persuaded the German that it would be better if he (Fritz) became the prisoner. "Tommies coming," he said; "you come back with me." The German agreed. And out of the snowfield, between two lines of fiery tumult, these two figure? made their way, taking cover in shell-holes now and then, stumbling and helping each other up again, but reaching our lines at last. The German was the prisoner. Generally speaking, however, the Huns

don't require much persuasion to change their quarters, especially after a taste of our artillery. As one chap said, "From out the' tumble-down houses emerged a few scores of Huns —without rifles or anything of a fighting nature about them — and simply marched into custody 1 That was all. They were quite honest about the whole business. They had had enough of it—our artillery had. not only wrecked their place of abode, but their very nerves. That flurry of shrap was their last perfunctory smack at us. When we actually arived on the scene they threw up the sponge!" Guards Lead the Way. — Not once but many times the guards have been known to go ahead to show the way, confident that the flock will come obediently after. Illustrative of this there is a story of a British sergeant who was conducting a considerable bunch of German prisoners to the rear. He was walking in front of them, showing them the way. An officer met him and remonstrated. " What the devil are you walking in front like that for?" he said. "They'll do you in." The sergeant looked round and cast a scornful eyes over the downcast Kamerad Brigade! " Them !" he replied disdainfully ; and he walked on in front of them as before, and led them safely to the cage. . Not only so, but—as. still further illustrating how contemptuously Tommy regards the Huns —one' day on the roadside a British sentry handed his rifle and bayonet to one of the prisoners, so that the latter might give an exhibition of German bayonet drill, which he. did while the unarmed guard looked interestedly on ! That the British soldier does not assess the German at a high figure is further emphasised by the story which tells of a young officer of artillery who saw about 60 Germans coming towards him, apparently quite alone. This surprised him. But a second later he saw that they were prisoners being "taken in" by a single small Scots soldier in a kilt. v " What will you give me one of those for?" called the officer to Jock. "Oh," shouted he, "ye can have the lot for a drink!"