We had an opportunity to sample the army bread, as the driver of a
passing bread-wagon flung a large round loaf into our motor.

According to all accounts received from the French soldiers who are in
the prison-camps of Germany, one of the greatest hardships is the lack
of white bread, and they have employed various subterfuges in the
endeavour to let their relatives know that they wish to have bread sent
to them. Some of the Bretons writing home nicknamed bread "Monsieur
Barras," and when there was a very great shortage they would write to
their families: "Ce pauvre Monsieur Barras ne se porte pas très bien à
présent." Finally, the Germans discovered the real significance of M.
Barras, and they added to one of the letters: "Si M. Barras ne se porte
pas très bien à présent, c'est bien la faute de vos amis les Anglais"
("If M. Barras is not very fit, it is the fault of your friends the
English"), and from then all the letters referring to M. Barras were
strictly suppressed.

While the German Press may not be above admitting a shortage of food in
Germany, it seriously annoys the Army that the French prisoners or the
French in the invaded regions should hear of it. I heard one story of
the wife of a French officer in Lille who was obliged to offer unwilling
hospitality to a German captain, who, in a somewhat clumsy endeavour to
be amiable, offered to try to get news of her husband and to convey it
to her. Appreciating the seeming friendliness of the captain, she
confided to him that she had means of communicating with her husband who
was on the French front. The captain informed against her, and the next
day she was sent for by the Kommandantur, who imposed a fine of 50 frs.
upon her for having received a letter from the enemy lines. Taking a
100-fr. note from her bag, she placed it on the desk, saying, "M. le
Kommandantur, here is the 50 frs. fine, and also another 50 frs. which I