surrendering) "inadvertently cut away my pocket in slitting up my
trouser leg." "Then your watch," I continued coldly, "is still lying on
the field, or, if a soldier should discover it, he will deliver it to
General Headquarters, from whence it will be sent to you." Sure enough
that evening the sergeant-major in charge of the rearguard came in with
the missing watch and chain.

Later, we learned, from diaries captured on German prisoners, what
manner of brute this Zahn was.




FROM MINDEN TO MOROGODO


Judge of my surprise when, one morning in hospital at Morogoro, a fellow
walked in to see me whose face reminded me of times, two years back,
when I was in the Prisoners of War Camp at Minden in Westphalia. He
showed a fatter and more wholesome face certainly, he was clean and well
dressed, but still, unmistakably it was the man to whom I used to take
an occasional book or chocolate when he lay behind the wire of the inner
prison there. "It can't be you?" I said illogically. But it was.

But what a change these two years had wrought! Now an officer in the
Royal Flying Corps, the ribbon of the Military Cross bearing witness to
many a risky reconnaissance over the Rufigi Valley; but then a dirty
mechanic in the French Aviation Corps and a prisoner. But in December,
1914, there were no fat or clean English soldiers in German prisons.