Courland. I had already heard unsavoury rumours of this camp while
I was in Germany, of men forced to toil until they dropped in their
tracks, of an Englishman shot simply because his guard was in bad
temper. But the most damning arraignment of Windau came from a
young Saxon medical student, who told me that after he had
qualified, for a commission as second lieutenant he declined to
accept it. This was such an unusual occurrence in a country where
the army officer is a semi-deity that I was naturally curious to
know why.

"I am loyal to the Fatherland," the young Saxon said to me, "and I
am not afraid to die. I was filled with enthusiasm to receive a
commission, but all that enthusiasm died when I saw the way Russian
prisoners were treated in East Prussia and at Windau. I saw them
stripped to the waist under orders from the camp officers, tied to
trees and lashed until the blood flowed. When I saw one prisoner,
weak from underfeeding, cut with switches until he died in the
presence of a Berlin captain, my mind was made up. My country has
gone too far in making the army officer supreme. I now could see
the full significance of Zabern, a significance which I could not
realise at the time. During the first part of the war I became
angry when outsiders called us barbarians; now I feel sad. I do
not blame them. But it is our system that is at fault, and we must
correct it. Therefore, although I am an insignificant individual
and do not count, I shall, as I love my country, obey the dictates
of my conscience. I will not be an officer in the German system."

I thought of that sincere young student while the boat staggered
under the onslaughts of heavy seas, and the corporal told of how
twelve hours' daily toil on the railway in Courland with rations