is wing of the
service--and by reason of their dark blue uniforms and their flat blue
caps they looked more like sailors than soldiers. At first we took them
for sailors. There were thirty-four of the Englishmen, being all that
were left of a company of the West Yorkshire Regiment of infantry.
Confinement for days in a bare box car, with not even water to wash
their faces and hands in, had not altogether robbed them of a certain
trim alertness which seems to belong to the British fighting man. Their
puttees were snugly reefed about their shanks and their khaki tunics
buttoned up to their throats.

We talked with them. They wanted to know if they had reached Germany
yet, and when we told them that they were not out of France and had all
of Belgium still to traverse, they groaned their dismay in chorus.

"We've 'ad a very 'ard time of it, sir," said a spokesman, who wore
sergeant's stripes on his sleeves and who told us he came from
Sheffield. "Seventeen 'ours we were in the trench, under fire all the
time, with water up to our middles and nothing to eat. We were 'olding
the center and when the Frenchies fell back they didn't give our chaps
no warning, and pretty soon the Dutchmen they 'ad us flanked both sides
and we 'ad to quit. But we didn't quit until we'd lost all but one of
our officers and a good 'alf of our men."

"Where was this?" one of us asked.

"Don't know, sir," he said. "It's a blooming funny war. You never
knows the name of the place where you're fighting at, unless you 'ears
it by chance."

Then he added:

"Could you tell us, sir, 'ow's the war going? Are we giving the Germans
a proper 'iding all along the line?"

We inquired regarding their treatment. They didn't particularly fancy
the food--narsty slop, the sergeant called it--although it was
reasonably plentiful; and, being true Englishmen, they sorely missed
their tea. Then, too, on the night before their overcoats had been
taken from them and no explanations vouchsafed.

"We could 'ave done with them," said the speaker bitterly; "pretty cold
it was in this 'ere car. And what with winter coming on and everything
I call it a bit thick to be taking our overcoats off of us."

We went and asked a German officer who had the convoy in charge the
reason for this, and he said the overcoats of all the uninjured men,
soldiers as well as prisoners, had been confiscated to furnish coverings
for such of the wounded as lacked blankets. Still