camp. It is of
historic interest to note that the red flag--the symbol of the triumph
of the Revolution--which flew from the flag-pole in the camp, had
formerly done service in the cubicle of one of the interned. It was dyed
red by another of the interned, a doctor of science and a member of our
little camp school, and then given to the soldiers.... The first
impression gained on a visit outside the camp was the terrible
seriousness of the food question. No one who has once seen can ever
forget the sight of the crowds of hungry women and school children
standing outside the gates of Ruhleben, literally besieging the interned
as they passed out." For it was only the interned who had food to spare.
The Ruhlebenites gave, they had the facts before them. And "the people
of Spandau turned out in force to wish us 'Godspeed' on our departure
for home; and the send-off they gave us was astonishing in its
enthusiasm, arresting in its spontaneity, and touching in its obvious
sincerity."

HAVELBERG.

At Havelberg the camp for civilians had a population of 4,500. Of these
only 372 were British subjects, being men from British India. Mr. Dresel
writes on September 17, 1916: "This camp produces an excellent
impression, the arrangements being unusually hygienic and modern."
[Miscel. No. 7 (1917), p. 6.]

ON BEHALF OF THE CIVILIANS.

Yet, however excellent the impression may be, an internment camp is a
miserable place.[27] It is, of course, especially miserable for those
whose nature is at all sensitive, and it is surely such men whom we
shall need everywhere if we are to make a less brutal world. Man after
man has gone into internment seeking to employ himself and to make the
best of it. For months, for a year, less often for nearly two years he
has succeeded. But slowly success has dwindled and turned into failure.
The monotony, the sense of oppression, the physical and mental
discomfort, the deadly uselessness of the life--even where to these
things is not added concern for those outside--have made him incapable
of fixed attention, incapable of effort, incapable of rest, alternately
nervous and torpid, fearful, despairing. The "barbed wire disease" has
him in its grip at last. "Another winter interned here," wrote such a
one, "and I shall need a padded cell." He had a fine nature and had
struggled hard. But "the people outside do not understand." Certainly,
there are those who can hold out to the end. I admire and envy the