Chapter I · ON THE WAY TO THE FRONT (continued 2)

The young doctors who accompanied us told us that the German soldiers always and without exception longed to be back at the front, unless their condition was such that they had not strength enough to desire anything. Among the French the feeling was different: “Whatever you like, anything but the fire at the front.” But this is, on psychological grounds, quite natural and cannot well be otherwise. There is nothing that depresses and demoralises the soldier as much as being a prisoner. He feels that he is playing the part of the weaker, that he is entirely at the mercy of others, that his strength is gone, his initiative taken from him and his fighting spirit rendered unavailing. In such a situation, to gain personal advantages and to make the best of a bad job, he will say much that he would never have dreamt of uttering on his own side of the fighting line. It is therefore unfair to judge the fighting value of an army by the remarks of prisoners detached from it.

Herein we have perhaps the explanation of the fact observed at the Treves hospitals, or, at all events, at the Horn barracks, that the mortality amongst the Frenchmen was incomparably greater than amongst the Germans. It would be futile to try to explain it by the suggestion that the doctors and nurses involuntarily felt greater compassion for their own countrymen, for when it is considered that 35,000 wounded have been transported through Treves Westbahnhof—latterly 1500 a day—it will be realised that the doctors available must be so overwhelmed with work as to have no time for sentiment. To them the case is everything, and it is a point of honour with them to save as many as possible. The whole care of the wounded becomes a professional, almost mechanical, matter, and one cannot wonder at it when one sees the stream of wounded passing through. I was told that the wounds of the Germans heal better and quicker than those of the Frenchmen, whatever the reason may be. But plainly the psychological factor has something to do with this also.

To this must be added another point of view—the wounds of the Frenchmen are usually more malignant than those of the Germans. Whilst the former are all too frequently hit in the lungs, stomach or abdomen, the Germans in the great majority of cases are wounded in the shoulders, arms and legs. It becomes obvious that the Germans must keep closer to the ground and are more skilled in using cover. It would be interesting to know exactly in what measure this point is affected by the French army uniform, the dark-blue tunic and the bright red trousers, exactly the same as worn in 1870–71. This dress obviously presents a most excellent target, whilst the Germans with their grey field uniforms and grey headgear merge into their environment.

We were talking in this strain as we were leaving the hospital, and the young doctors were inexhaustible in their stories of what they had experienced during their work at Treves. It was not only the barracks that had been converted into hospitals—churches and schools had also been requisitioned. “But how do the children get on with their schooling if the schools are turned into hospitals?” “Well, it is this way. Since the younger professors and masters were called to the war, older teachers, both men and women, have turned up from almost everywhere and carry on the work to the best of their ability. Thus they earn a little money which they badly need in these hard war times.”

We also spoke, of course, about the unceasing stream of wounded who are being brought into Germany. The seriously wounded and those not expected to recover are kept near the front, as they cannot stand being moved. But the lightly wounded, or at all events those who can stand the journey, are sent home. Soldiers who have had a bullet through the hand or a flesh wound in the arm, may, if they wish it, go straight home to their people. In such cases, on leaving the army, they are provided with the receipt which entitles them to free medical care at home. They must then attend daily at a certain hour at the doctor’s for examination; when fully recovered they return to their own regiment. Soon I suppose there will not be a single village in Germany without its war hero and its Iron Cross. One can imagine the pride and joy with which a son is received on returning home after his deeds of valour, and the heartfelt good wishes which accompany him when for the second time he leaves for the front!

I was told that a fresh train-load of wounded was expected at Treves at half-past twelve the same night. The doctors were holding themselves in readiness to receive another avalanche of exhausted and maimed heroes. Our doctors told us that when the train stopped they used to go through all the carriages to examine the patients. Those who were too bad to go any further were carried on hammock-stretchers to the hospitals. The others were allowed to go on after having their wounds redressed. This is another phase of the struggle between life and death—the doctor on the side of life struggling to snatch back those whom death has vainly sought to capture on the battlefield.

To wind up our visit, we had a peep into a store-room, the floor of which was encumbered with entire bales of cotton, gauze dressings, oil cloth, sticking-plaster and bandages of all kinds. Entire railway trains full of dressings and bandages, surgical instruments and drugs, are constantly running east and west from the heart of Germany. Our hospital at Treves was also permeated with a strong scent of carbolic, ether and chloroform. When one sees the pale faces and red scars of the wounded and the mountains of dressings, and when one inhales this penetrating hospital odour, one almost seems to hear the ping of the rifle bullets and the fierce shrieking of the shells. At such moments the deep and horrible solemnity of war seems to draw closer, and one realises indeed its sinister reality. Late in the evening, as we wandered back in the wet to the Trierischer Hof, I felt that we were, indeed, not far away from those parts of Europe where entire nations are grappling in a life-and-death struggle.