Chapter XVI: “kamerad!”

The word _Kamerad_ has come to possess a significance not at all in keeping with its original meaning. On the western front the French and English have probably solved the problem of what to say and do when greeted by this well-known form of Boche salutation. Picture to yourself two trenches filled with soldiers, a barbed wire in front of each and “No Man’s Land” stretching out endless between the two. French cannons in the rear are hammering away with remarkable precision, dropping deadly shells into the German lines, and all machine guns on the French front-line parapets manned and ready for business. At the same instant hands go up in the German trenches and soldiers climb out on top with the shout of “_Kamerad_” on their lips. Their arms are extended over their heads in token of surrender. They have no rifles and no side arms, nothing with which to attack and only the expression of joy upon their faces.

At this moment a battery of machine guns are trained upon them and ready to wipe out the handful of Germans in less than five seconds, but not a shot is fired as they advance. Men in the French trenches go so far as to expose themselves in order to assist the surrendering enemy on their way to the rear as prisoners of war.

Suddenly, at a distance of twenty feet, the hands of the Germans dive into their pockets and each man cracks the cap on two hand grenades, and, at this distance, throws them with deadly accuracy all along the machine-gun positions in the French trench, killing or wounding all the occupants and disabling their guns, thus allowing their own infantry to cross “No Man’s Land” without danger.

Does not an episode of this nature afford us some substance for a moment’s reflection? Suppose you had been one of the occupants of the French trench and had escaped injury, and the following week you were again detailed for duty in the front-line trench. Also, suppose you were at the trigger of a machine gun when a handful of men climbed out of a German trench yelling “_Kamerad_.” Now what do you think you would do? You bet you would.

On a certain night when one could hardly see six feet away, a French patrol was sent through our wire into “No Man’s Land.” Headquarters had information to the effect that the German division in the lines opposite our position had been changed, and the patrol was to learn just what division had taken its place. To do this it was necessary to capture a prisoner and search him, for all men carry numerals on their uniforms as well as certain papers, which, even though they be of a personal nature, serve to identify them. I might here point out to what extent such data is of military importance.

French, English and German troops in their three years of war know from direct contact on different sectors of the front just which regiments of any army are “shocking” or attacking troops, and which are what we term “holding troops,”—used merely to defend trenches after they are captured. If a man is identified as belonging to a division of “shock troops,” great precaution is taken by the different commands against what may be considered a certainty. Prepare for an attack—that’s the rule. If he is merely of a “holding” division, there is not so much to worry about.

This is what happened that night. The patrol was instructed to capture a prisoner if possible and bring him in. Just after dark two young French boys were posted in a shell hole in “No Man’s Land” in front of the French barbed wire to await events. They felt quite secure of being observed from the enemy parapet, when star shells were sent up. They stayed in this position for quite a while.

At the expiration of a half hour three figures appeared in front of them, all walking cautiously. Suddenly they stopped, talked very low for a few moments, then separated. Two men went one way and the third in exactly the opposite direction, which was toward the position that the boys occupied. This man was instantly covered and could have been shot down had either of the French boys so desired, but he was allowed to proceed, and, at the proper time, was challenged and commanded to halt. The German, knowing full well that rifles were trained upon him, and that he had not the slightest chance to escape, called out clearly:

“_Kamerad, Kamerad._”

He was commanded to throw up his hands and advance, which he did. It was impossible to note that slung behind his uplifted hand was a Leuger revolver. On he came until he could discern both figures very clearly, and, at six spaces, fired pointblank at each.

One was wounded so badly that he died soon after, but the other so slightly that he was able to get in one good smash with the butt end of his gun, which laid the Hun low—then dragged him into a French trench.

The prisoner proved to be a German lieutenant, and, under pressure, gave out some valuable information. This goes to show that the code of surrender is violated by German officers, as well as by their men, and, while the two Frenchmen were instructed not to shoot, but to bring in a prisoner, no man is expected to take the least chance with an enemy. No bullets are fired nowadays just to wound an opponent. They are all fired for one purpose only, that is—to kill.

Another incident which impressed me as being a very sad one happened during an attack in the Somme, to a young lieutenant attached to the same division as I. He became noted for his fearlessness and daring. He was found in the very hottest of everything and always at the head of his troops in a charge across “No Man’s Land.” Not only did he enjoy the confidence of his men, but also the confidence of the government, which, in recognition of his bravery, decorated him with the _Croix de Guerre_ (French War Cross) and the _Medaille Militaire_ (Military Medal), two of the highest honors that can be conferred upon a soldier.

One day, after a very brilliant charge, his company captured the Boche front-line trench, and, as he was jumping down into the trench, he saw a German officer lying prostrate, his head and face covered with blood. At this instant a French poilu ran up and was just about to put the finishing touches on the German when the latter began yelling “_Kamerad! Kamerad!_” The lieutenant waved the poilu aside as the man seemed very badly wounded. He then asked the German if there were any men in a certain dug-out, pointing to one leading off from the front-line trench. The officer replied “No, but there are some in that one,” indicating another located down a small communicating trench toward which the lieutenant forthwith started, revolver in hand. But he had no sooner turned his back when the Boche officer rolled over on his side, whipped out a revolver, and shot him through the back, killing him instantly.

Bravery had brought this French lieutenant the highest honors in the army, and human consideration for a dying man brought about his own death.

_Kamerad!_—how I loathe that word in its German significance.

In another attack the French Infantry went forward and captured all the front-line Boche trenches on a certain sector. The artillery fire that had been directed against their trenches and the lines behind them rendered it impossible to deliver rations to their men in the front line for over two days before the attack.

This situation, coupled with the terrific strain of the intense artillery fire, had turned them into a pitiful-looking crowd. Finally, two Frenchmen started to bring the German prisoners back to their own lines and at this particular point the German trench was very deep and hard to climb out of. So they foolishly marched them along through their front-line to a place where they could crawl out more easily.

All along in a front-line are boxes filled with hand grenades with which to repel attack quickly. The line of march along the trench was zigzag, making it impossible for the front of the line to be viewed from the rear or _vice versa_, and, as they turned a corner in their line of march, a couple of the Boches dug into one of these grenade stations and killed nine infantrymen before they themselves could be laid low.

Take another instance, one that occurred during the recent invasion of Italy. The Austrian command instructed their troops to do everything in their power to gain the confidence of the Italians, in the hope of fraternizing with them, and when they had succeeded, the command secretly pulled out the supposedly friendly Austrian troops and put in their places German “shock troops,” which fell upon the Italians like a stroke of lightning, and murdered them without mercy.

The same thing occurred in Russia, and, therefore, I hope that my countrymen will never make the same mistake. Never take your eye off the Boches. They are not to be trusted under any circumstances. I know that this is a very difficult attitude to assume, but chances should never be taken with men whose officers misuse _Kamerad_, and the terms of surrender. When I read that Germans are made prisoners I wonder why.