Letters and Observations
of
Major Albro Lefils Parsons, Jr., M.D.
United States Army Medical Corps
at the Close of World War I

January 1919 to August 1919

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This document is apparently a compilation of letters written by Major Albro L. Parsons, Jr., to his wife, Katherine Barnett Parsons, during the period January 1919 to August 1919, and covers his experiences with the Inter-Allied Commission in Berlin, Germany, and his activities promoting the health and welfare of Entente prisoners in Germany and Austria and their repatriation to their homelands.

Albro Lefils Parsons, Jr., was born November 13, 1882, in Louisville, Kentucky, to Albro Lefils Parsons and Julia Elizabeth Mays. He attended Medical College in Louisville and the University of Munich (Germany). He married Katherine Barnett on November 21, 1917 at the house of Boneycastles (handwritten note in the back of "Parsons Family, Descendants of Cornet Joseph Parsons, by Henry Parsons, 1912"). They spent a number of years in the US Army after World War II, and retired in Louisville at 431 Country Lane. They had two children, Albro L., III, (later changed to Jr) and Anne Tyler. Albro Sr. died September 3, 1964, and Katherine died May 4, 1971, both in Louisville.

The manuscript was found in the estate after the death of Katherine in 1971, and consisted of a carbon copy of the original, some 237 pages long, on legal sized sheets, and double spaced. It is unknown whether there ever was, or was intended to be, another part to this compilation, but there may have been as the letters start abruptly on January 20, 1919. It is evident that Albro, then a Captain, had been writing to Katherine for a number of months prior to the beginning of these letters.

His position during this period was "Staff Surgeon of the U. S. Military Mission," and chief medical officer of the Inter-Allied Commission.

The Hotel Adlon, a magnificent hotel constructed in 1909 next to the Brandenberger Gate, was hit with Allied bombs during World War II and burned. A new Hotel Adlon was built in the same location and reopened in 1997. Pictures of the new hotel indicates that it recaptures the splendor of the original.

I electronically scanned the copy provided me by my father, Albro L. Parsons, Jr, into a wordprocessor. The format of the document has been changed slightly, including indentation, spacing, and pagination. I have corrected many errors in the scan, but some may still remain. If you would like to compile a map of the places noted in this document, I would be happy to include it as an appendix. I am also in the process of obtaining pictures of Albro and Katherine to include.

I lived with my grandparents for approximately 2 years, from 1952 to 1954, during part of First to Third Grades.

Tyler Barnett Parsons
July 18, 1998

TOUL. January 20, 1919. The expression, "dark as Egypt's night" would never have been born, had its author visited Toul. Nowhere is such Stigian [sic] blackness as these streets present after nightfall, and the Armistice has had little effect in lightening them. Not only are they dark, but narrow and winding, and they change their names every two blocks. Although this is my third visit here, I believe it the hardest city in France for me to find my way about. Without a map and frequent appeals to the M. P., I should be lost many times.

I am writing from the Y. M. C. A.

The officers' billets have been changed from the disgraceful place where we were billeted in January to a nice, clean building formerly occupied by the Chief Surgeon of this Army.

I left Selz yesterday morning, having made my adieu to every French officer I could lay my. eyes on, and, of course, having gone across the Rhine to Rastatt and said. good-bye to the German Commandant. Shortly before leaving I found that my little company had made several debts in town. As we had been away from a pay master for sometime our funds were low. I, therefore, sold a stove which the Red Cross had kindly given us and which had been a great comfort. I do not know what the Red Cross will say to my having sold the stove to pay company debts. I shall explain it to the first Red Cross man I see.

We had a good run, though cold and rainy, until we got about 15 kilometers west of Saarburg, where one ambulance slipped off the wet road and crushed the left rear wheel in the soft sod. Luckily no one was hurt, and it will only delay us for a day or two. We transferred loads to the good machine and all the men, excepting two, crowded into the good machine and we wheeled on to Nancy. Nancy is "Little Paris." It is full of French officers and French women, and is supposed to be a very wicked little city. Therefore, the American Powers That Be have ruled that no American shall stop there. I reported to the A. P. M. and asked permission to stay long enough to procure a wheel for my broken ambulance, but he would not listen to it, so, of necessity, I had to come on 23 kilometers to Toul. Upon getting here I find that I can get no help at all. I have just wired to Joinville, asking Col. Jones to send me the parts needed.

We shall have to stay here at least two nights, so when my boys asked permission to quarter at the "Y", instead of with the Headquarter troop, I was very glad to have some Red Cross money to defray their expense. Their description of the accommodations for the Headquarters troop is frightful, and I do not want my men to sleep in such a place. I explained where the money had come from and divided it equally.

This morning I sent the good ambulance with some food and drinking water to the stranded boys and asked them to send me my clothing roll: I do not like to be separated from my possessions. There is nothing to do now but wait until help comes.

4 P. M. The strangest orders have just arrived. When leaving the Y. Building a lieutenant handed me an order which reads, "to proceed immediately by automobile from Toul to Spa, Belgium, for temporary duty with the Peace Commission. It also says that I must reach Spa by afternoon of January 21st, which is tomorrow. Col. Jones, in a personal note, says this may mean a two weeks' tour of duty in Berlin. Was ever a man so lucky? Think of going to the enemy's capitol before peace is signed. Why the Peace Commission is believed to be at Spa I cannot imagine, because the Peace Commission is at Paris. But undoubtedly Col. Jones has repeated this order exactly as he got it. He has sent his closed Dodge car, with two chauffeurs and directs that I travel all night in order to make Spa in time. I recognize one of the chauffeurs as having been with me at Selz.

My letters may be irregular now for a day or two.

I have asked a "Y" girl to drop you a note, telling you I am on my way. (This was Miss Elizabeth Dunlop, who kindly wrote the letter desired. ) I will have to run down now to G-2 to get Road maps. I shall then turn my boys over to the Sergeant who has come up to repair the car. I hope to meet my clothing roll somewhere between here and Nancy, for I cannot go to Berlin without it.

NANCY, January 20, 1919, 7 P.M. Just stopped here to get a bite to eat at the Officers' Club of the Y.M.C.A. I saw nothing of my returning car between here and Toul, and, therefore, shall have to make a wide detour, out to the broken car, for my clothing roll.

This Club is the most pretentious Y. M. C. A. Club I have seen over here. I just had the pleasure of adding the Divisional Insignia of the 38th Division to a long list of such designs in the hall. Almost every Division was represented but my own.

We are about to start for an all night ride. I shall try to get in a letter to you tomorrow.

SPA, January 21, 1919. I have seen many so-called chateau in France, but this is a real one. It is called Villa Sous-Bois, and old Hindenburg used it as his headquarters when in Spa. It is a beautiful place, with enormous rooms and from every window is a beautiful picture of Belgian scenery. I am seated now in a leather upholstered chair in front of an open fire place, and I can imagine that Hindenburg sat here and planned the ruin of the Allies.

This is the headquarters of the American Commission, which is here as a part of the permanent Inter-Allied Armistice Commission, and as I understand it, this Commission has the duty of seeing that Germany keeps her word as far as the Armistice goes.

I wish I could describe to you my ride of last night. Leaving Nancy at 8 P. M., we pulled into Spa at 8 this morning, having traveled about 400 kilometers, and our little Dodge motor did not stop once. Two chauffeurs were very convenient - one to drive while the other slept, being changed on hourly shifts. Of course, I had to stay awake to read the map and direct the way, now and then springing out at road crossings to verify our location. I found some difficulty in reading the maps, too, by the way, because the names of the maps were sometimes in French and sometimes in English, while the sign posts always read French. If you will get your map I will trace the route we took. Leaving Nancy we went East almost as far as Saarburg, then to Vic, Chateau-Salins, Metz, Thionville, Luxembourg, Clervaux, Stavelot and Spa. Luckily, the night was moonlit, though quite cold. We went directly through the Briey Basin, which Germany so coveted. and from which she has withdrawn so much coal. I could just make out the outlines of the mine buildings, and it looked almost like a young Pittsburg. Also got a glimpse of the Metz Cathedral by moonlight, and was sorry that I could not identify the statue of the Kaiser, upon which the French have so cleverly placed chains.

Luxembourg we reached about 2 A.M. Like getting into trouble, it is always easy to get into a city by automobile but very hard to find one's way out by the right road. Luxembourg is an old fortified town situated on a rocky cliff between two sharp valleys. I know that we wound around those narrow streets for nearly an hour trying to find the road which led to Spa. Finally, I found a French non-commissioned officer who was kind enough to direct me, but I misunderstood his French and continued turning to the right instead of going right straight ahead. At last, however, we got on the road and were off again.

Belgium is a more magnificent country than I had believed. We wheeled along a beautiful little valley between quite precipitous hills. The entrance to Spa is quite impressive. The road is a typical Belgium road, lined on either side with age old trees. It runs for several miles as straight as an arrow right into the heart of the town. Spa is nestled in the hills and is not particularly pretty, but is surrounded by beautiful villas. I imagine in Summer it must be quite lovely.

I found a room for the boys at a hotel and then started out to locate the American Commission. English soldiers are quite in evidence here, and it was through a British M. P. that I learned the whereabouts of our Commission. He told me they were in the next villa beyond "Hell" Cottage, which meant "Hill" Cottage, where the English are. German soldiers were in front of the Hotel Brittainque [sic], so evidently that is where the German Delegates are housed.

There are some eight or ten officers in this Commission, under Gen. Malvern Hill Barnum. They are as hospitable as can be and have made me feel very much at home. Some doubt exists as to whether I am intended for Berlin or not. I showed Col. Jones' note, hoping that it would influence them to send me on. Gen. Harries is due here this evening from Berlin for a conference. Perhaps he will be able to throw some light on the matter.

Just now Gen. Barnum and his staff went out on the lawn to be photographed. Naturally I did not go, as I am not a member of this Commission, but he very kindly sent his Aide to invite me to be among them, and I will send you a picture when it is developed.

ON THE TRAIN TO BERLIN, January 22, 1919. A year ago this morning and I was meeting you at Pennsylvania Station in New York, and now I am just outside of Cassel, Germany going - Heaven knows where, or for how long. Which reminds me that at one time Napoleon 3rd was held prisoner at Cassel. I hope I shall not meet the same fate.

I am in a little compartment of a German sleeping car and by my side is a bottle of Eaux-de-Spa. The train is very dirty, apparently the windows have not been washed in months. There is also a decided lack of paint. How unlike the Germany I knew years ago: I was made to realize, however, that I was in Germany when I complained to the porter that the train was cold and requested that he fire up a bit. He looked me squarely in the eye and informed me, in the most approved Prussian style, that the train was not cold at all. Such ability to set aside other people's judgments exists only in the Prussian, I left him in no doubt as to my opinion, and had the satisfaction of hearing him tinkering with his little stove before very long,

After closing my letter to you yesterday I learned some interesting facts about Villa Sous-Bois: Hindenburg evidently feared air raids, because in the cellar there is a cave-like room, in which he is supposed to have taken refuge, It looks more like a room for secret conferences. It is about eight. feet square, furnished with porch furniture and heated and ventilated by electricity. It would be a very comfortable little study in which to concentrate one's mind. The Chateau where the Kaiser was located also has one of these underground rooms, but his cave has two outlets - safety first.

About four o'clock Gen. Harries arrived from Berlin. He is a splendid looking man and every inch a soldier. Upon learning that I was from Kentucky, he claimed Louisville as one of four places which he called home. He said he had met Humphrey, Moorman and Harris when he was in command at Breast, and had organized an impromptu Pendennis Club. He also told many interesting things relative to the recent street fighting in Berlin. As you probably know, the Germans have been killing each other by the score, using heavy artillery right in the streets. Order has been established, I think, now.

Many German officers were coming to him and asking his influence to be appointed instructors in our army. Can you imagine such a thing? At last the son of a German General, a fine looking young chap, presented the same petition. Gen. Harries said to this young man, "Now, I am going to ask you a question and I do not care for you to answer it if you do not wish to, but why should an army that has never been defeated ask for instructors from an army which has just suffered such a fate?" The young officer saluted and passed out without a word.

As soon as Gen. Harries was asked whether I was to go to Berlin or not, he did not hesitate a moment, but answered: "Yes he is one of six officers I ordered up here" That settled all doubt in the Commission's mind. It seems I am to be used in helping the Russian prisoners of war in some way, probably in one of the camps or on a hospital train. All allied prisoners of war are out of Germany now, except a few straggling sick ones who are in hospitals, but there are still a great number of Russians left, estimated by the Germans at 700,000. Why, after the peace they signed, these prisoners were not set free, no one knows. The Germans evidently feared to do so and were able to lay down any terms they wished. The Germans were repatriating them in a most brutal way, sending them in train load lots to the border, there dumping them out without proper food or clothes and having them march eastward into the arms of the Bolsheviki. The General tells that many of these Russians were either shot or starved to death. Many had to walk more than 100 kilometers, often without shoes. The officers were often given the choice between entering the army of the Bolsheviki or being shot. These brave fellows often chose the latter alternative. The General has taken the ground that these Russians, when captured, that is before Germany and Russia signed the disgraceful peace of Brest-Litovsk, were our allies, and that we should not strand by and see them slaughtered in this way. The Commission in Berlin, therefore, ordered this repatriation stopped and a sub-committee has been formed, whose sole duty is to repatriate the Russian prisoner of war. I think this also includes some Serbians, Greeks and Roumanians.

A remark of Gen. Harries occurs to me just here. Eleven of us were seated in the drawing room of the chateau last evening when cocktails were passed. Only three accepted. One of the officers drinking said: "Well, three against eight; that explains prohibition in the States." Maj. C---., also drinking, said; "But three good men held a bridge once against all comers." Gen. Harries, who did not drink, immediately responded: "Yes, Major, but do not forget they saved their lives by water."

We are just pulling into Berlin now, and I will write you later from the hotel.

BERLIN, January 22, 1919, 8 P. M. You remember that picture on the back of Life, where the American Doughboy says, "So this is Berlin:" That is what I feel like now, I was met at the station by an American Field Clerk and we drove to the hotel. Hotel Adlon has the reputation of being the best hotel in Europe. All the Royal families of Europe have been its guests. More elaborate liveries, you can hardly imagine. It is erected on the Pariser Platz, just inside the Brandenburger Gate. A pamphlet on my desk gives very interesting facts about the hotel. For instance, it says:

"We Berlin people, who for years had considered Adlon to be an energetic man, were yet astonished at the confidence with which he staked twenty million marks on one card."

I wonder how many hotels in America have cost more than $5,000,000.00.

"There is certainly no precedent for erecting a hotel in the most fashionable part of the City, particularly, when in order to do so, a palace, famous both historically and artistically, had to be demolished to make room for the new hotel. The Emperor gave his consent to this, thus demonstrating, in the most convincing way, how high an opinion he holds, not only of the age we live in, but also of the future of Berlin."

This palace was the old Redern Palace.

"Americans have not received so excellent a training in architecture and artistic handicraft as we Germans, and often go to extremes in matters of taste. Finally, they possess no Parizer Platz and no Brandenburger Gate, neither have they the dynasty of the Hohenzollerns, who, with paternal care and love, have, for centuries, guarded and promoted the interests of the flourishing City of Berlin."

Before throwing the hotel open to the public, it was inspected by each of the Imperial family, and the pamphlet lays great stress upon the numerous functions which are given here. For instance, all the Generals of the Army have a banquet here every New Year's day, at which time their Royal Highnesses, Prince Henry, of Prussia, Prince Ruperto of Bavaria, Duke Albert, of Mecklenburg and Duke Albert, of Wuerttenberg, accord the honor of their presence. The birthday of the Emperor is celebrated each year in the banquet hall, and so on down the list, even mentioning that His Excellency, Dr. David Jayne Hill, used this hotel for the purpose of introducing his daughter into society, "in the presence of all the Royal Prussian Princes and all the illustrious society of the Royal Court." So much for the glory of former times.

Lieut. Gailmard wanted me to go out with him this evening, but I have declined, thinking I would rather take a short walk in Unter den Linden. I saw no signs of street fighting, but probably will tomorrow. As I have not gotten my pass yet I feared to venture too far from the hotel. There are guards on all the streets, and, I understand, they take great pleasure in stopping a foreign officer and demanding his pass. They look quite business-like, too, with their potato mashers ( grenades ) stuck in their belts.

BERLIN, January 23, 1919. My! Such luxury goes to my head. I am supposed to breakfast in bed at 8:30, but it is just 7 o'clock now and I cannot stay in bed a moment longer. It is a most inviting bed, though, with a beautiful eiderdown comfort, which reminds me of "all the comforts of home." So, here I am seated at my Louis Something desk, just two feet from a steam heater and with a German breakfast on the way to me. There is some difference between this and my little Alsatian billet of four days ago.

LATER. My brain is in a whirl trying to take in my exact role here. I have met Roumanian, Jugo-Slav and Greek officers, not to mention French, Russians and Germans. I hear five different languages at once. The uniforms are very confusing, It will take several days to understand the situation. It appears that this Commission is as much diplomatic as military. Such politeness, such clicking of heels, such bows, etc., I've never seen. It is delightful, and I love the undercurrent of political aims of all these different nationalities. It is mighty good, however, to be an American. As the Doughboy says: "We are settin' purty." It is a pass-word anywhere. Officers of all armies invite you to their respective capitals and offer you the freedom thereof if you will only come. Some of these names are too much for me. I am sure I shall never be able to pronounce the name of a Roumanian Colonel I met today.

I went over the diplomatic situation with one of the officers today, trying to get it straight. Certainly it makes you feel like you are in the middle of things. Marshal Foch plays and the Boche must dance, and all this brilliant coterie never forgets that for a moment.

I find that Gen. Harries, with two officers, his A. D. C., Lieut. Gailmard and Lieut. Shellens, and two orderlies, came into Berlin on December 10th, just at the time that I was crossing the Rhine into Baden. This is a mighty little band of Americans, though we expect more shortly. The General's two orderlies are black, and they have the distinction of being the first black or white American enlisted men, not prisoners of war, in Berlin. We all are here on the invitation of the German Government, as part of the Inter-Allied Commission on the Repatriation of Prisoners of War, which is a branch of the permanent Inter-Allied Armistice Commission. They have been busy up to now in repatriating allied prisoners of war. You remember that I assisted in repatriating some of the 2000 Americans who were concentrated at Rastatt. I heard that at that time an American General, Harries, was in Berlin, but I never dreamed that I would be here with him.

The German Government is defraying all the expenses here and certainly is doing the best it can, having put the Commission up at the best hotel, and. but hotel is serving us to the best of its ability. We have rooms on the second floor, as the Germans count it, one or two of which we use as offices. When the General is here we mess in a room on this floor, but when he is away the custom is to eat in the large dining room downstairs. Our feed, of course, is the ordinary German food, and I cannot say very much for it. Heat is evidently very scarce and much that we are presented with, I am sure, is horse. There is no butter and many or the soups are artificial concoctions. One notices the total lack of fats in everything. As a courier comes up pretty regularly from Coblenz, and one from Spa, we have them bring us various Quartermaster's supplies, so that our own mess is supplemented by butter and white bread.

It is the intention of this Commission to hold the Russians in their prison camps until there is some sort of permanent government established in Russia, to which they can be sent. The Bolsheviki are not good people to receive them. We must also feed them up and restore their morale. In the meantime there are a number of prisoners from the Balkans, whom we can send home in trains, and, in returning, bring certain German prisoners who are held in Serbia and Roumania, probably Mackensen's army. The Germans and. the Allies distrust each other so that up to the present this has not been possible, but the American officer occupies a peculiar position, in that both sides trust him. It appears that United States' Medical Officers can be used with distinct advantage in conveying trains of prisoners, on account of the position they hold in the army. You see, they possess practically all the powers of an army officer, their work, however, has always been non-combatant. Therefore, six of us have been ordered here to participate in this repatriation to Southeastern Europe.

BERLIN, January 24. 1919. In a long walk about the City I saw plenty of signs of fighting, principally bullet marks on the houses and broken windows. Strange to say, most of these are on a line with second stories. The buildings that were most damaged by the street fighting are the police headquarters. newspaper offices, the Royal stables and the Royal castle itself. The latter presents a strange appearance, with its walls tattooed by machine gun fire. The north entrance shows evidence of cannon being used.

What strikes one most forcibly is the dirt about the streets. Once this city claimed. and with right. to be the cleanest city in the world. Now, there is paper blowing about everywhere, even in the parks, and the gutters are filled with trash.

Berlin impresses me as being ever decorated. It is like the "best" room in a negro's cottage - full of vases and knick-knacks that are supposed to beautify. One sees statues everywhere, indeed, one may look in any direction and see from one to fifty of them. The most atrocious thing in this line is the Sieges Alley, where the Kaiser attempted to commemorate, in marble. a long line of ancestors reaching back to 1000. Even the Germans laugh at this attempt on the part of the Kaiser to play the artist, for he stood sponsor for each of these statues. They call it "Willie's Doll Alley." At the head of this street stands the Column of Victory, and it is amusing now to see French soldiers sitting around its base. When a German approaches these Poilus look up at this statue of Victory in a questioning way as though asking each other what victory the Germans erected the monument to commemorate. It is a piece of by-play, meant to ruffle the feelings of the Germans, and I think it succeeds. Almost all of these statues are expressive only of force and of threats. A soldier always has his sword drawn and his chest thrown out, as though he were daring anyone to touch him. Even the statues of animals show them being killed, or killing each other. There are some exceptions, but not many. The Memorial Statue, erected to Wagner, is a superb example of such an exception. In view of the great shortage in bronze, I have been on the lookout for evidence of the Germans having melted down some of their statues for war purposes, but so far I have failed to find it. I was delighted to find a statue here in Berlin entitled, "The Hun", we having used the word, "Hun" so often during this war. The most brutish thing I ever beheld is the wooden Hindenburg statue. I hear the French amuse themselves pulling nails out of Hindenburg.

A few automobiles are about the streets; some have rubber tires but most of them are iron. Bicycles are also iron shod, with the most remarkable arrangement of springs. They make a lot of noise but really ride quite easily. One sees a good many very small and scrawny horses. These are probably Russian horses and were stolen on the Eastern front. The lines are invariably of rope, on account of the lack of leather. Many ex-soldiers are selling newspapers and some are turning hand organs for a living. I wonder if I will come to that! One pathetic sight on the crowded streets are the shell shocked beggars. These men are always in uniform. They sit against the wall twitching and grimacing in a most horrible way. The little cups which they hold out are rapidly filled with coins, for the spectacle is heartrending.

I suppose Berlin is no worse than any other city but certainly on my walk I was spoken to oftener than ever before in my life. I cannot imagine a woman - no matter how low - having anything to do with an officer of an army which has just defeated her own, but it seems to make no difference to the female Boche, in that trade.

BERLIN, January 25, 1919. Did I tell you that I went to a tea yesterday afternoon? The host was a Roumanian, who bears the name of Germaneanu. They have a magnificent apartment, full of rare vases and curios collected from all parts of the world. The Roumanians seem very fond of bright colors and this apartment looked like a kaleidoscope.

I have just noticed that the sheets on my bed are not sheets at all, but really table cloths. I am told it is everywhere the same. The sheets were taken for the hospitals. Table linen, both napkins and table cloths, are of white crepe paper. So far as I can learn, private families did not have to give up their sheets. I. had understood that all bronze and brass had been confiscated by the Government, yet all the door knobs, chandeliers and bedsteads in this hotel are of beautifully worked brass. They have escaped somehow. Evidently Hotel Adlon is a favored child. In spite of much talk of a coal shortage, my room is warm and from the window I can see tons of coal being stored in the cellar. No restriction is placed on the number of lights you my use, nor on the hours they may burn.

Today I got 139 marks for 100 francs. What a come-down for a mark! The prices here run into terrible figures. My hostess told me, (for every one talks prices and food and it is quite the thing to compliment your hostess if she has bread, or coffee, or butter) that butter costs 29 marks a pound, pork 50 and 60 marks a pound. I know a family in Mannheim, a wealthy dye manufacturer, who gave his wife for Christmas a pound of butter and she gave him a bottle of olives. The price cut no figure with these people, it was the scarcity of the article that made the gift so valuable. Gen. Harries says that there was a time just after the Kaiser abdicated when anyone who could have given each family in Germany a pound of butter, a can of bully beef and a loaf of white bread, could have been elected king, president or anything else in the German Empire. Yet some people think the British fleet did nothing but fight one battle!

BERLIN, January 26, 1919. I have been doing little lately except staying around the hotel keeping ray ears open for hints that may be dropped which will keep me more in touch with my future work. The reading of German newspapers is very essential because it keeps one up on the political situation and this does change so rapidly.

Yesterday I met Mr. W. W. Husband, who is the American Red Cross representative. It seems he came to Berlin shortly after the Armistice from Copenhagen and opened an office in the old American Embassy building. He has been busy getting American prisoners of war out and is now tabulating records of the American dead in Germany. I went to see the American Embassy, where Gerard had his troubles and collected the material for his book. The Spanish still occupy a part of the gray, hideous building. Mr. Husband told me that there had been a riot in the Wilhelm Platz, upon which the Embassy is situated, and called attention to the fact that not a flower bed was disturbed or a blade of grass broken. Certainly, a German riot must be a most orderly proceeding. The American Embassy sustained one scar from all the street fighting in Berlin - there is one bullet wound on its walls right near Gerard's window.

I am gradually getting straight on things now. The Commission at Spa is headed by the French General Nudant. The German representative is Gen. Winterfelt. The first Inter-Allied Commission in Berlin for the repatriating of Allied prisoners of war was headed by Gen. Dupont. This work being now practically over, the Commission for the Repatriation of Russian Prisoners of War has been formed and is headed by Maj. Gen. Sir Richard Ewart. Gen. Harries is the head of the American part of this.

Already three of the medical officers have reported: Lieut. Barbour came on the 24th, and Capt. d-Ercole came the next day. After we get through with transporting the Balkan prisoners to their homes we shall probably be busy in the Russian prison camps seeing that the German doctors treat the Russian prisoners promptly and that sanitation is carried out - advisory and administrative rather than professional duties.

BERLIN, January 27, 1919. This is the ex-Kaiser's birthday and for the first time in years, since 1888, it is not the occasion of a great holiday. I thought of the line from Anthony's speech over the body of Ceasar [sic]: "Now lies he there and none so poor to do him reverence."

Did I mention that Saturday we were compelled to cross through Leibkecht's funeral? You know he and Rosa Luxemburg were leaders of the Sparticus movement here and were both killed. Rosa, because of her bloody tendencies, was known as "Red Rosa". They have not found her body, which,

it is presumed, was thrown into the canal.

I have been taking daily walks about the city and have been busy on the regular sight-seer's routine. I find myself the subject of fairly marked curiosity on the part of the populace. I have never known people to have less manners than these Prussians. It is nothing unusual for them to stop on my approach, stare at me and even turn around after I have passed and continue their gaze. So far I have not noticed any particularly hostile glances.

Last night the General had three Roumanian officers for supper. Their uniforms are quite brilliant compared to our somber olive drab. They talk French and German with equal facility, and I got along with my neighbor very well in German. He is a fine fellow and wants me to go to Bucharest and promises me a splendid time.

BERLIN, January 30, 1919. Lieut. Barbour just told me that the movement of Serbs will probably start tomorrow. It is tiresome doing nothing. I report to Gen. Harries twice daily and each time he says that there is nothing for me to do yet.

LATER. The General has just told me that I am to take 2,000 Serbians to Vienna. I leave tonight.

STARGARD, January 31, 1919. Such a ride as we did have last night. Left Berlin about 4 o'clock in the afternoon along with Mr. Decker, a correspondent of the Chicago Daily News, and Capt. Zaic, a Serbian officer. The train was, as usual, crowded to the rail. All Germany seems to be on the move. We had to stand up until 11:30, when the train pulled in here just two hours late. The Germans claim that there are no wagons, the Allies having taken them away. Rolling stock in Germany is in very bad condition now. There is evidence of lack of paint everywhere, probably due to the shortage in oils. The cars are very dirty and one can hardly see through the windows. The flat wheels keep you awake at night, and the locomotive leaks steam like a sieve. With such a shortage in coal as now exists in Germany it is no little item that they derive such small benefit from the amount of coal used in their locomotives.

I do not know what we would have done for hotel accommodation if Capt. Zaic had not wired ahead and reserved rooms for us. He also had ordered come for the Serbian solders to meet us at the train and it was a great pleasure to see the way those Serbs greeted one of their officers. It certainly made our going to the hotel more comfortable, for they carried our grips.

Our job here is to get about 2,000 Serbians on board train and taken them to Vienna, where they will be taken in hand by their own people.

This morning I went out to the camp. On the way I saw some white crows, or rather, I should say white and black crows. The form and size of the bird undoubtedly put it in the crow family, much as the white feathers speak against it. It was my first view of a German prison camp for Russians, and certainly it is a dismal sight. Situated on a flat, sandy plain, surrounded by double rows of barbed wire, with guards at each opening, stand row after row of one story frame buildings. Not a tree, not a blade of grass, not a thing to relieve the monotony. I made a close inspection of the camp. Such living conditions as the barracks presented: The Russia is not a lover of fresh air and the windows are all nailed shut and covered with cobwebs so that little light enters. The bunks are arranged in two tiers. Each prisoner has what is called two blankets, but some are so worn that it takes a German to identify them as such. There is a semblance of a mattress in each bunk, really shavings in a sack. There is little fuel in Germany, and naturally little of it is wasted on a prisoner of war, so the doors are kept closed and all the prisoners crowd around the one stove.

I had conceived the idea that there would be a certain amount of discipline among the prisoners. This my have been attempted at one time, but now it has disappeared entirely. There is a total lack of morale. Nor does this apply solely to the Russians. The German guard is slovenly, in no way presenting a soldierly appearance. He does not even bother to salute his officers.

I watched the distribution of food to the prisoners. Instead of being an orderly and. thought-out process, the food, such as it is, is placed where the prisoners can get to it, and it looked like a free for all scramble. I saw several fights among the prisoners over food, which the German guard took little interest in stopping. Shortly after this food distribution little groups of Russian prisoners could be seen bartering their share of potatoes among themselves. I examined these potatoes and found them small, partly decayed and nearly all had been frozen.

We saw working parties start out for the country, for many of the Russian prisoners - indeed a majority of them - are sent to work either on farms or in mines and factories. The Germans have initiated this, because it made the problem of the prisoner up-keep less difficult for them and it also increased production in Germany when her man power had been so reduced. These working parties go out under a guard, and, if near the. camp, return at night. However, many, working at distant points, do not return to the parent camp for months at a time. The Russian, as a rule, would rather work on "commando", as it is called, than to stay idle in the camp. The food in the country is much better.

The hospital, it is called a "Lazerott", is not at all bad. It struck me as the most orderly part of the camp.

Capt. Zaic and I selected 1,000 Serbs to go on the first train. I should have liked for all of them to go at once, but inasmuch as the Germans had planned for two sections and a change now would up-set their feeding arrangements, I decided to let them go and I would follow on the second section. The non-commissioned officer of the German guard, who is to accompany the first section, seems to be it sensible fellow and one that can be trusted to see the Serbians through. Zaic and I had to make a strong fight to secure blankets for the prisoners. The Germans were about to allow them to start in mid winter on a seven day trip without blankets. Naturally, we would not listen to it. Seeing the tendency of the German Commandant I insisted on personally seeing that each prisoner received and carried to the train with, him, not only his blankets, but his quota of food for the journey. I wish you could see the cars in which the Serbians are to travel. They are nothing but box cars with benches placed cross-wise. About thirty men are placed in a car and there they will live until they reach Agram. I have insisted on one car being heated, and Capt. Zaic explained to the prisoners that they must take turn about in riding in the heated car. A German guard is placed in each wagon also, in order to see if any are sick and to maintain discipline.

This afternoon I went to a hospital in which there are several sick Serbs. This was school once which has been converted into a hospital. The patients are very well cared for. All, of course, want to go home. I had quite a time convincing them that other trains would be going. The Serbian non-commissioned officer at this hospital is a fine chap, and, although he has been away from home eight years, he consents to stay by his sick until they have so far recovered that they can be repatriated. I marvel at the old men I see in the Serbian army, some fifty-five and sixty years old - some with long, white beards. One man had been in captivity in this camp since 1914 with his two sons.

Stargard is the worst place I have seen relative to food - there is very little of it here. To me it is in a very forbidding part of Germany, cold and bleak, with absolutely nothing to recommend it. No one but a Boche would have stopped here to build a town.

February 2, 1919. I am writing on the train now as we slowly crawl southward toward Breslau.

Yesterday morning I went to the hospital again and had a conference with the German doctor, trying to decide which of the sick Serbians were well enough to travel. True to form, the doctor attempted to combat every suggestion, but finally I picked out seven men and told him they were to go, after which he made no further objection. We had to promise many times to return for the other sick in order to quiet them, and I fully intend doing so. The German nursing sister at the hospital seems very kind and really fond of her patients.

We then went out to the Lager (prison camp) and organized the 1,000 men we were to take. The Russian prisoners seem quite hostile toward our Serbs because they, too, wish to go. Again we had to insist very strongly on each man being provided with blankets and food. The German authorities seem willing to resort to any subterfuge in order to keep these two articles inside of Germany. The blankets, of course, belong to the Germans. but the food has been furnished, almost entirely, by the Red Cross.

The Serbians are certainly woe-be-gone looking prisoners, but their non-commissioned officers have managed to provide themselves with decent uniforms and, in some way, have made a flag of the new South Slav Kingdom. With the non-commissioned officers and this flag at the head of the column, they marched out of their prison camp, eight men abreast. They extended from curb to curb because of their heavy packages of food. Do you think that they were downhearted after four years of prison life? Not a bit of it! They sang their solemn hymn-like marching songs and held their heads high. These songs are really wonderful: in spite of a note of sadness there is a glorious ring to them. Capt. Zaic placed himself at the head of the column and off they moved, very slowly because of the age of some of the prisoners and of their heavy burdens. Despite their rags, it was more like a triumphal procession than a return from captivity, - the one short hour of victory over the enemy who had held them bound so long. They, too, seemed fully conscious of the solemnity of the moment. Zaic led them through the principal streets of Stargard to let the German populace see that the Serbs were no longer prisoners, and that they and their allies had finally triumphed.

(You will not be able to read this because the train is shaking so.)

When the column had gotten to the railroad station Zaic led them to the foot of a little rise upon which he mounted and called me to his side. He then made an address, of which, of course, I could understand no word. Every now and then he pointed to me and as a climax the men, led by Zaic, gave three cheers. I heard him ask them some question, to which they apparently answered in the affirmative. He then told me, in German, that he had impressed upon them that it was America, acting through me, who was leading them out of captivity and that on the way to Agram they must obey my slightest command. The affirmative shout was their pledge.

We got away from Stargard early in the afternoon and are very comfortable in our second-class compartment.

The journalist, Capt. Zaic and myself have arranged our clothing rolls so that things are quite convenient. Two Serbian orderlies, - self appointed so far as I know - are looking after our material wants and, in some mysterious way, procure for us hot water for shaving, and, Mirabile Dictu! - butter and sausages. Wherever one goes in Germany one must carry his own rations, so that this addition to our supply is very welcome.

Everywhere we see railway wagons that should go to France. The Germans apparently do what they can to hide these at small stations. At one place we counted over sixty cars and nine engines carefully tucked away on side tracks where they had evidently stood for months.

The Boche also seems anxious to balk us in our efforts to help the Serbs. At the first stop just two hours outside of Stargard, I became uneasy at the long wait and upon looking out of the window saw that our engine was detached. After long time we were allowed proceed, but Zaic and I made up our minds that they should have engines waiting for us at the next stop. So when the same thing seemed likely to happen, we demanded to see the station master. He insisted our engine could go no further and declared that there was no other engine to give us, and furthermore, he had no idea when an engine would be available. Zaic, who knows the German character well, stormed about, and indeed talked so rapidly and so loud that he quite overwhelmed the station master with sound alone. Before the tirade was finished another engine had been attached to our train and steam was up. The fear of the Lord has to be put into the Prussians or we would never get anywhere.

I have just learned that in spite of all our care some score of Russians slipped by us and boarded the train. In my ignorance I cannot tell the Russian face from a Serbian. The Serbs however soon discovered the mistake and put the Russians often the first stop. I hope they enjoyed their 24 kilometer walk back to the camp. Why they should want to go to Agram is a history. They probably would go anywhere to get out of the camp.

The German guard is a perfect farce. They have no discipline themselves and are unable to maintain it among the Serbs. Zaic had occasion to correct one of them today, he failed to stand at attention and even kept a cigarette in his mouth. Zaic again showed his knowledge of German character by storming at the man in the loudest tones. There something about sound that seems to impress a German force in the Boche's hands came to his side, his cigarette dropped, and in the end he saluted formally and promised to do exactly as he was told.

February 3, 1919. A we are now rolling along through the Republic of Czecho-Slovakia, and I can hear the Serbs singing because we are out of Germany and in a friendly country. An American can have anything he desires here because the Czecho-Slovak Republic was hatched in United States and Wilson recognized it had once. We rode through their country until just before we come to Vienna.

All the way through this country we have seen numberless sugar beet factories. All are idle as witnessed by their smokeless chimneys. At one stop Decker and I were able to buy sugar, but only because we were Americans it is very scarce.

The Serbs on a whole have stood the cold trip well. We get a hospital train from Parchin yesterday, while at Sagan, and had three sick Serbians transferred to it as they were too old to endure the cold further.

Yesterday, at a stop, the Serbs danced for me. It is called a warming up dance, and believe me, we need it, for it is cold. They gather in a long line - the longer the better - and placing their hands on each other's shoulders, danced two or three steps to the right and then to the left in a sing-song sort of way to the tune of a hand made bag pipe of goat's skin. The music sounds rather Oriental. The steps of the dance remind one somewhat of Russian dances, in that, at intervals the dancers stamp the ground and work themselves up into an excitement by means of howls and calls. If kept up long enough it will surely warm you up. Later on they sang a number of their native songs, which I like very much although they are quite melancholy.

The German guard left us at Oderburg. They took French leave. They were sent by the German government to proceed as far as Agram. and then return with this train, and their specific duty was to see that these identical wagons were returned to the German government. However, they got cold feet and left us at the German border.

VIENNA, February 4,1919. We arrived yesterday afternoon and turned our Serbs over to South Slav officers.

I am simply wild about Vienna. It is in hard lines [sic] now, with little food, no work and no coal. We are at the Bristol Hotel, which, although the best hotel here, allows only one light in our rooms. There is no hot water, except on Saturdays, and then only limited supply. This room is costing Decker and me 50 krone, which sounds very bad, but, figured in American money, does not amount to very much.

I find other American officers here, there being some sort of food commission under Prof. Coolidge. Were we not in Government service it would be a matter of grave concern as to how we could procure food. I have already been to this commission and had a talk with Capt. Davis. He very kindly put some chocolate and various forms of crackers at my disposal out of a small supply. Their office is in a room formerly occupied by one of the large American life insurance companies.

I have been taken in hand by a South Slav Commission composed principally of Serbian officers. Some, however, come from Bosnia and Hertzegovina [sic], and were, at one time, officers in the Austrian army. I understand that they fought loyally, too, but now that they have joined the South-Slav kingdom, they are just as loyal to their new government. They have plenty of food, sent from their native lands, and run a delightful mess. They seem only too glad to do all they can for me and have placed an automobile at my disposal. An automobile in Vienna now-a-days is a rare sight, gasoline and tires being so scarce. Not only this, but they have detailed a Lieutenant to be my guide while here, and will not hear of my making any plans at all, claiming that I am their guest.

This City has Berlin discounted in every way. I have never seen such handsome buildings and the Ringstrasse must, in the Spring and Summer, surpass even Parisian boulevards. I can imagine it being filled with laughter-loving crowds, flowers and music. Now, it is covered with snow. I was at the Royal Picture Gallery this morning. It is the most beautiful building inside that I have ever seen, not excepting our own Congressional Library.

BERLIN, February 6, 1919. I have not had a chance to add a line until just now. On the afternoon of the 4th, Lieut. Kajfes, who was my guide in Vienna, and who at one time was a student in that City and later a professor at the University of Agram, showed me all over the City. As he knew it like a book, it was literally a personally conducted tour. About five we drifted into one of the thousand attractive coffee houses and listened to the most beautiful of Viennese music. These places are thronged with the loveliest women I have ever seen outside of Kentucky. I have never known a place where temptation was so tempting and so harmless looking as in Vienna. In the coffee houses one sees uniforms of almost every nationality: Poles, Russians, Serbians, Roumanians, Turks, Greeks, Italians, English, Austrians, Hungarians, Germans, French and our own. All these I saw in one café.

Later we dined at the South Slav mess with Maj. Deriani, and then he, Lieut. Picula and ourselves went out again to witness Viennese night life. It is most seductive, even in these hard times when everything is closed at 10 o'clock on account of the coal shortage. Usually, of course, it begins about that hour.

The next morning Lieut. Kajfes took me out to Schoenbrun, the summer home of the Kaiser. It is simply beyond description, and I believe it surpasses Versailles.

Picul took me to the station in the afternoon. I found that they had engaged a compartment for me as far as they were able to, that is, Oderburg. You cannot imagine what this means - it saved me going to the station two hours before train time and then a great scramble to get a seat. Indeed whether I could get aboard the train or not was in doubt. As it was, we arrived five minutes before the train left. You would have thought me some great personage from the way people, who had waited for hours to get standing room, made way for us. The train conductor escorted our little party of officers to the compartment.

I find it hard to rise to all this attention. All I have-to do to get instantly what I desire is to say: "I am an American", (the man salutes) "l am a member of the Armistice Commission (the man steps back three feet and remains at salute while I tell him what I want). I noticed the difference as soon as I got back into Germany. Immediately a ticket was demanded of me by a typical Prussian conductor. Up to this time I had traveled on my Armistice pass. I tried the same tactics on this conductor, and, although he almost broke a window bowing to me, he insisted that I must have a ticket in addition to my pass. I then thought of how Zaic would have acted, and reared at him. This produced the desired effect and he told me I might ride in peace. I may also say that this ride was the coldest I ever took; no attempt is made at heating at all. I had to change cars four times and it took twenty-six hours to make a ten hour run.

At the Czecho-Slovak bolder all baggage was examined except mine and that of a Polish officer, whom I had invited to share my compartment with me. As there are no sleeping cars on this rain, we wrapped ourselves in our blankets and talked all night. I also took pity on an old lady who was preparing to stand all night in the crowded isle, asked her to take a set in my compartment - to the astonishment of all gentlemen present, let me add. Being with me helped the Polish officer through Czecho-Slovakia, because these two nations are not very friendly just now.

The South Slav Commission, at Vienna, had one of their officers meet me at Oderburg and put me on the proper train, which was very thoughtful of them. Traveling is most difficult; no one seems to know when trains are expected or when they will leave. At the other places where I had to change cars I had to pick up my information from the merest passer-by, because no official could tell me.

I reached Berlin about six this evening and have been busy trying to clean up. I find that three other medical officers have come in since my departure, Capt. Nall, Capt. Matassarin and Lieut. Aschmann. All of these men are now on their way to Bucharest with Roumanian prisoners of war, and in returning will bring disabled German prisoners.

BERLIN, February 7. 1919. Today was spent in making out the report of my trip, and I shall not fail to mention he number of cars hidden away on side tracks.

Germany is certainly in bad shape: ripe for the same sort of a time as France had in '93. I should not be a bit surprised to see the Entente forced to occupy all of Germany and perhaps the larger cities Russia.

One of the South Slav officers was interested in collecting stamps, which is a very favorite craze over here. He gave ms the enclosed. Many of them are old Austrian stamps which the new South Slav State has simply re-stamped with the letters, "S. H. S." and thereby made them South Slav stamps. They have few facilities for stamp-making themselves. The came thing was done with Austrian paper money, increasing its value about two and one-half times on account of the South Slav gold collateral in Paris.

BERLIN, February 8, 1919. It is late, as I have just come in from the theater. Capt. Wortham came from Spa and invited me to go with him. I should have liked to go while in Vienna to get the atmosphere, for Vienna is the home of the light opera, but unfortunately there was nothing at the theater while I was there, due to the coal shortage. Tonight I saw a comic opera modeled after the "Merry Widow", and my head is dancing with the tunes right now.

I think now that I shall be here long enough to give you my address, which I have just learned today. It is, "Hotel Adlon, Berlin, Germany, C/o Message Center, 3rd Army, Coblenz, A.E.F." I hope this will bring me some mail. No matter where I am in Germany my mail will reach me from Hotel Adlon.

BERLIN, February 9, 1919. The General sent me over to the English Embassy this morning, as Gen. Ewart is minus a medical officer. Up to this time there has been a Col. Pollock with the English, who has assisted in looking after wounded English prisoners. The French also have doctor with them, Maj. Rehm, and I find that Gen. Ewart has engaged a Swiss physician, Dr. Meyer, as a sort of inspector to report on the sanitary conditions of the camps. Col. Pollock is now in England and Gen. Ewart wishes me to keep in touch with allied prisoners near here, and also to collect and correlate certain reports on prison camps throughout Germany which are being sent to him by Dr. Meyer. I think this will be pleasant work. I shall have a car at my disposal when necessary, and Count de Salis, the General's Aide, has promised to be my guide until I learn the ropes.

I found the General this morning about to visit the Tempelhof Hospital, so I went along with him. This hospital is made up of a great number of wooden buildings, in one of which we found three or four English prisoners and as many French. They seem to be well taken care of, and inasmuch as they are receiving food parcels from home, are living much better than the German populace.

The General carried food with him and distributed it among the prisoners. We also found about ten Russians, to whom he gave tea and butter. There was one poor German lying on a cot next to the Russians, presenting the most pitiful sight. A machine gun had wounded him in fifteen places, breaking, I don't know how many bones. He evidently had tuberculosis and the mark of death was on his face. Needless to say, we gave the nursing sister all the beef tea and condensed milk. that we had with us for this poor man, who although a Boche, had merely done his duty as he saw it.

I noticed, for the first time, today the English custom in the matter of salutes. In a group of officers a salute is returned only by the senior officer of the group. I caught myself answering salutes several times when the General alone should do so.

BERLIN, February 10, 1919. I have been busy at the British Embassy nearly all day. Lieut. Breen, Gen. Ewart's right hand man, is sick. Breen has a most interesting history. He is a moody man, who speaks German like a native. He was captured in 1915 and made six successful attempts to escape from prison camps, but each time was caught at the border. If he had gone alone he probably would have gotten through, but he tried, in each instance, to take a friend with him and through the friend his schemes failed. He has the distinction of being the only man who ever escaped from the prison camp at Kuestrin. His people at home sent him saws and other things concealed in razor straps and heads of cheese, and I have seen the pass which he forged and which took him all over Germany. The stamp was cut out of the rubber heel of his shoe and it is such a correct imitation of the Imperial German Seal that it was never questioned, although immediately below it is a date in which November 31st figures largely. He posed as a butter handler, and surely butter handlers have not been numerous in Germany lately. He has some odd sort of power with the Soldiers' Council: It is even whispered that he is a member of this Council. I do not understand it at all, in fact I sometimes wonder if he were not captured purposely in order to get information back to the British from inside of Germany. However, he seems to get from the Soldiers' Council anything he wants and this accounts for the British Embassy having a car at their disposal. By the way, this car belonged at one time to the King of Sweden, I am told.

BERLIN, February 11, 1919. I just finished my breakfast. As you know we have our coffee and three little crackers in our room. I think we Americans are the only ones who eat butter and white bread in all Berlin - ours is sent up from Coblenz. Dinner and supper are served in the private dining room and there is a good deal of formality there. We sit according to rank - and talk that way, too. No one dares to move until the General indicates and he is such an interesting talker that I enjoy listening.

The German porter has just brought back my shoes. He told me that formerly the Germans laughed at our enlisted men wearing wrapped leggings and at the cut of our breeches, but at last the Germans adopted the same plan because it dawned upon them that there was a great saving in leather and cloth. He added, "Yes, we have learned a lot from the very people at whom we laughed."

My program for today, unless it is changed by orders, is to go to the British Embassy for a conference with Gen. Ewart and to see Lieut. Breen; then to the French Embassy to arrange for an English soldier to be sent to Cologne along with some French sick who are going home; to visit two American officers in this hotel who have colds; to drive to the hospital and get an English soldier and have him started homeward; to attend to some commissions in town for Gen. Harries and finally I am booked for the opera tonight.

There are a number of Russians at a hospital right here in Berlin, and I have been ordered to investigate their condition, because the hospital was deplorable about two weeks ago when Gen. Ewart inspected it. He and Gen. Harries gave the German Government forty-eight hours to clean the place, and, be it said to their credit, they did so in twenty-four.

In my trips about town I have noticed numerous signs which formerly read "Royal"or "Imperial" Café or Theater or Store. These prefixes have now been eliminated. For instance, the "Kaiserhof Hotel" now stands simply as "---hof Hotel." The name Hohenzollern has also disappeared to a large extent. The signs in the windows, proclaiming the merchant to be a purveyor to his Imperial Majesty, still remain.

BERLIN, February 12, 1919. I carried out the program outlined in yesterday's letter. It is again before breakfast, for I find that is the best time to write. My tray comes in about eight and I simply cannot stay in bed up to that time.

At the hospital yesterday, while discussing with the nursing sister whether the patient was transportable or not, she said she thought he was, provided he was to be moved in a German hospital train, but in a French train, no, for the French knew nothing of organization. If all Germans had hated the French as she did, the fighting would never have stopped. She would have fought until every enemy had been cut to "little bits" (a German idiom). This same nurse, on a previous visit, had begged me to forward some books to her nephew, who was a prisoner of war in England. She said he had been there three years and that he had the finest and brightest mind in the world. He was in danger of losing his reason because there was nothing in England elevating enough to engage his attention. It was such a pity for this great mind to wither, all because of the crudeness and lack of culture of the English. The woman was in earnest, too, and really believed what she said.

However, I referred her to the Danish Red Cross, which suggestion she greeted with a shrug, saying that she had tried that and was convinced that the Danes were in league with the English, for she had sent many books, but he had received none of them.

I went to hear Konigskinder last evening. It is the first time I had been to the Royal and Imperial Opera House. From the outside it is a horrible looking building, - inside, however, it is beautiful. The Royal Loge was, of course, empty. The audience is not impressive. Every seat was taken but there was no attempt at dressing. I did not see an evening toilette. It is funny to watch the audience pull out their little black bread sandwiches and eat between acts. The opera begins early in order to save light, and the people have no time to go home for supper, therefore, the much eating during the performance.

The music was splendid and every detail of dress and scenery was carried out. In fact, there was too much detail. For instance, the chorus is so well drilled in acting the part of towns-people that their many by-plays distract attention from the soloists. I have no doubt that a crowd would be noisy but at an opera, a make-believe crowd should give the principals a chance.

I suppose you think I am hyper-critical of the Germans. In Southern Germany I met very nice, courteous Germans, but here, not only do I find them mean, uncivil and absolutely untrustworthy, but daily contact with Entente officers allows me an opportunity for comparison and the Boche does not stand the test.

Yesterday as I walked down Unter den Linden, I saw a company of German soldiers headed by a band, They have lost all of the old snap and do not even march at attention. I was told by an officer, the other day, that at a concert in the Esplanade Hotel, "The Watch on the Rhine" was played. Not a soul moved, not a German officer saluted, and indeed why should they, for who is now keeping the watch on the Rhine, not to mention other points further inside of Germany?

I must get to work now and send some medicine and instruments off to the Russians at Holzminden. To do this I shall have to tackle a French Major in German. I do hope our medicines will soon get here. We are greatly hampered by lack of them. The French have a small stock and the British have what is known as "Comfort Boxes", which are a conglomerate mess of clothes, medicines and food. I think I am to take charge of these Comfort Boxes, which really belong to the British Red Cross, and the first thing I shall do will be to separate and list them. You would laugh to see the French Major and myself trying to talk. Their pharmacopeia is different from ours and were it not for Latin, I could not read a prescription. But all doctors can understand medical Latin, so that helps us out.

Such a babel of tongues as I hear about me at times. I sat at the table recently with another American and I heard him talk French to a Serbian on one side and English to a Pole on the other. Those two spoke in Russian to each other. I spoke German and English to my partners, who communicated to each other in Serbian.

The General has just told me that my title will be "Staff Surgeon of the U. S. Military Mission," and that I may expect to be here in Berlin indefinitely at the head of his medical organization and as chief medical officer of the Inter-Allied Commission.

This will necessitate my getting more suitable clothes. You see I was sent here practically out of the field and I have not even a white shirt with me. I tried to buy one the other day but found I would have to have the permission of the police before I could do so, and, as I do not wish to submit to this, I have decided to wait until my bedding roll can be forwarded. The price of clothes is almost prohibitive, men's suits being 600 to 1800 marks. The Germans have resorted to turning their suits wrong side out to better their appearance. Much of the cloth which one sees is made of paper. It is surprising too, how well paper suits look until rained upon. Very presentable hats are also made of paper. Paper shirts, and even underclothes, it is claimed, may be washed as often as thirty times without disintegrating. However, if you are not a novice, you will have learned that to wash a shirt means simply to dip it in lukewarm water, for if it is rubbed vigorously in hot water it will go to pieces in one washing. I have seen silk stockings advertised for 60 marks, which is not an exorbitant price when one considers what the mark is worth. The shop windows also display shoes at from 200 to 600 marks. Some however, are much cheaper, but are, alas, innocent of all leather. The uppers are of canvas or cloth and the soles of wood. Sometimes, just under the ball of the foot the sole is hinged to make walking less difficult. The wooden sole is further protected from wear by a liberal use of hobnails, or bits of scrap leather.

BERLIN, February 13, 1919. The work at the British Embassy is beginning to gather proportions. The comfort boxes are in a chaotic condition. I have been promised a staff to help me. I am so much with the English that I am sure I shall be saying, "Righto", and '"Topping" before very long.

We have just heard that Marshal Foch has decided it is beneath our dignity to be longer the guest of the German Government and that we must pay our expenses from the fifteenth of this month. With supper at eighteen marks and dinner at sixteen marks and butter at thirty marks a pound, I am afraid this will be rather hard on some of us. However, Gen. Harries will be able to find some way out.

BERLIN, February 15, 1919. Last evening came the sweetest of all valentines, for the courier from Spa brought me two letters from you, of January 6th and 7th. I hope this is just the beginning.

I am kept busy all day long now. Work is gradually getting organized. My room is now decorated with maps of Germany upon which the Russian prison camps are indicated, and I am trying to find out just which ones have been. inspected and which have not. As these reports come in and I learn of a lack of doctors or medicines or instruments, I go down to the celebrated Kriegsministerium, in the much feared Wilhelmstrasse and ..... raise the devil. That is one way we can get conditions improved in the hospitals. Can you imagine me telling the Wilhelmstrasse what to do? The medical representative at the Kriegsministerium is a Maj. Hecker, who is a typical Prussian but rather pleasant. Everything I want done he informs me is absolutely impossible. Recently I wanted some instruments for a certain camp and when he told me that there were no instruments in Germany I shamed him into providing them by telling him of the reputation Germany enjoyed as a maker of surgical instruments. There are many medicines, however, which are totally lacking. Germany has no castor oil and, in fact, has no salves. Many medicines that came from distant countries have long since been exhausted. Sometimes when we send packages of medicines to the camps by freight we find that they have been broken open and all the fatty substances, such as salves and oils, taken out. This nation has been so long without fat that they will eat anything that is oily.

BERLIN, February 15, 1919. Your two letters spoiled me. I now look to every courier to bring me more.

Last evening we had a regular valentine's party. Mr. Husband invited three ladies who work for him, (two being Americans and one English) and several officers to his apartment for dinner. These ladies, I gather, are artists or singers who have remained here during the war, working I think, at the American Embassy and later with the Spanish, who took over our interests. We had quite a gay dinner and later went to the apartment of the English woman for a soiree. She, it seems, is technically a German, having married a German, but is now waiting for her decree of divorce to be handed down when she will revert to citizenship in her native country, England. She has a beautiful little apartment with a grand piano, and, as Lieut. Gailmard is a wonderful pianist, we had some splendid music.

One of the girls had studied music for four years before the war broke out. In the Fall of 1915 she was to have made her debut in "Aieda" [sic] but of course the war stopped this. She then went to work for Ambassador Gerard, and later for the Spanish. The other young lady is a violinist. I have heard her play and she does so beautifully. Her concert tour was also killed by the war.

We are all worried over our living expenses now, but I am sure Gen. Harries is doing his best to straighten it out and I feel that he will succeed. By the way, the mark has fallen again, so that for 100 francs you can get 160 marks.

At the Kriegsministerium yesterday I had a long talk with Hecker relative to tuberculosis and insanity among the Russian prisoners. As I expected, he obstructed all he could, but he knows just the same that he will have to carry out our plans. The German just naturally says "No", even when it is to his advantage to say "Yes". As far as I can make out there has been no effort to separate the tuberculous and insane Russians from the well, and this simply must be done. The German War Office is dreadfully disorganized and probably very much under staffed. It takes sometimes three weeks to receive an answer to a simple inquiry, and the mail service is so bad that it has taken four days for a letter to come from them to us, although we are just three blocks distant. In army parlance the War Office is always known as "K. M." By the way, the Kriegsministerium, as a building, is not at all imposing, being made up very largely of old residences. This, however, is an expansion due to the exigencies of war.

There are twenty detachments of U. S. troops coming into unoccupied Germany in the next few days. Each detachment will go to a Russian prison camp. It will be composed of a couple of line officers, one medical officer and ten or fifteen enlisted men. They will have supervision of the prison camps. The English are also going to get a like number. This will mean an augmentation of the staff in Berlin. Indeed, more are coming every day, This has necessitated the renting of Hotel Allemania for the enlisted men. Although a third rate hotel, I am sure the men will be very comfortable. Troops at the camps will live in barracks outside of the camp and their food will be sent to them from Berlin, we getting it up from Coblenz.

BERLIN, February 16, 1919. I was busy yesterday getting medicines out to the camps, and in so doing met a real Russian Baronness [sic], Olga von R. She had made a very sensible list of drugs which she wished to carry out to the camp at Zossen, but I did not give her any alcohol or opium because we are suspicious of Russians. She is a nurse and, of course, is probably all right, but it is just as well to be cautious.

I have been working on the organization of the medical department of this Commission, and have completed a plan which I hope they will let me carry out. But surely a Major will turn up sooner or later and then, of course, I shall take a back seat.

On account of the rates at the Hotel, we are planning to take building of our own, - probably one that is occupied by the Y.M.C.A. It is on the square directly opposite the Royal Palace. Mr. Hoffman, of the Y. M. C. A., has, I believe, been here all during the war. He at first was very active in this work in the prison camps, and after we got into the war and our own prisoners began coming in, he took up the alleviation of their trouble. I do not know why he was allowed to stay inside of Germany unless it was his thorough knowledge of the language and the type of work in which he was interested.

BERLIN, February 17, 1919. We had quite an excitement today in that the first detachments of the American Red Cross arrived. They came about sixty strong and are under command of Commissioner Lieut. Col. Carl Taylor, and Deputy Commissioner Lieut. Col. Edward W. Ryan. They will be a great help to us in procuring medicine, food and clothes for the needy Russians. I have been busy all day going over the situation and explaining it to these two gentlemen. Col. Taylor has a brother who is a doctor and has won distinction with Blake, in Paris. Col. Ryan, I have heard of before. He is a big, handsome, red-headed Irishman, with cold blue eyes that warn you not to antagonize him. He is the very embodiment of energy. With a Dr. Strong, he cleaned up Serbia when there were 100,000 cases of typhus fever there. That was in 1914 and I, and of course every doctor in the world knew of this magnificent work. I am delighted to have such a man to work with.

According to the German figures, which are notoriously unreliable, there are in the neighborhood of 9,000 sick Russians to be looked after. It almost staggers me to think of it. This reminds me that I must go to the Kriegsministerium this morning and extract some information from Maj. Hecker. It has to do with our plans for evacuating the Russians. All believe that the Danube route is the most logical way to repatriate them. There are enough boats suitable for this service at Regensburg, which is the head of navigation. We could concentrate the Russians at a camp there and send them down the Danube and across the Black Sea to Odessa. It would be necessary to establish hospital facilities for them along the route, probably at the large cities. Inquiry has already been made to the French as to the facilities for taking care of them at Odessa. This information should come from Bucharest, where the French have quite a large mission. The trouble lies in the fact that the Poles insist on fighting all along the line almost from the Black Sea to the Baltic, and unless we can arrange with them to allow our Russians to pass, it is going to be very difficult. Right now there is active fighting going on in the neighborhood of Galatz, between the Roumanians and the Bolshevists. We seem to be up against an impenetrable wall to the east of us through which it is very hard to find a hole for our poor Russians.

BERLIN, February 18, 1919. All of yesterday afternoon Gen. Ewart, Gen. Harries, Col. Taylor and myself were in conference. It had to do with supplies and medicines and doctors coming in after all these days of waiting. Calls come in daily, and we have had to acknowledge so often that we did not have this or that medicine, but now, with the Red Cross here, food and clothes and medicines will soon come, and, above all, soap.

I wish you could have seen a sample of food sent me from a camp yesterday - frozen and decayed parsnips, potatoes in the same condition, and a sample of the soup that looked and smelled like the stool of a typhoid patient. It was simply terrible. The German authorities swear that their own people eat exactly the same but I cannot believe it. To make this stuff more nutritious, they have concocted a meal known as "misch" meal, which looks and smells like our bone dust fertilizer. I cannot conceive that it adds very much to the diet.

We all notice that the German authorities are stiffening up. Until the present we merely requested them to do this or that - now they must be ordered to do so. If they wish to play that way, we can. It would not be surprising to see another revolution at any time and a dictatorship with Hindenburg, or some other strong man, at the head; then there would be the old system to deal with and some of the run-away nobility would probably come creeping back. Would not our position in Berlin be nice then? It will be nice enough when the Peace Terms are published and the people know the worst.

The General has told me to requisition for enough medical officers to administer forty camps. We will need eighty doctors, forty dentists, and, as there is a great deal of tuberculosis and trachoma, I suggested a number of experts in these two diseases. He took kindly to this suggestion and I later saw the telegram in which he asked G. H. Q. to send us something like three hundred from the medical department, commissioned and enlisted. That is a large order and I wonder if G. H. Q. will fill it!

BERLIN, February 20, 1919. I did not write yesterday because all day long I was as busy as could be. A list of reports had to be compiled which the medical officers should send to Headquarters. The Army has never before faced a problem like this and I have even had to get up he forms upon which to make their reports. We not only must keep track of the sick and of the communicable diseases, but we have to be in position, at all times, to know just what cases can be transported in a lying position and which can sit up when traveling. Therefore, a weekly report has been devised upon which all of this information shows. In that way it can be seen at a glance whether the percentage of sickness in any one camp is too high, whether they, have any contagious disease, and, if the camp is to be evacuated, I know at once how many and what kind of hospital trains to arrange for. Recently to this report were added the tuberculous and the insane. I hope these two classes can be concentrated before long, that we may give them some scientific treatment. When that time comes I shall be ready and shall know just how many patients have to come out of each camp.

BERLIN, February 21, 1919. I worked until late last night on the organization of the medical department again. Tonight I am invited to dinner at the Roumanian's, Germaneanu. I hope I can go this time as I missed the last invitation on account of my trip to Vienna.

Someone tried to enter my room last night. Fortunately the door was locked. This is not the first time this has occurred. The General had the same experience recently. This is the land of spies and just now there is neither law nor order. Robberies occur in all parts of the City, and between the robbers and the spies we foreign officers are fair game. The rooms of the hotel are built in such a manner that there is a hollow space over the entrance to each room. This space is large enough for a man to walk comfortably and runs the entire length of the corridor. It would be entirely possible for secret service men to hide in this run-way and listen to conversations in any of the rooms. As all persons of prominence from foreign countries stop at this hotel, such as Commissioners, Ambassadors, Special Representatives, etc., we feel sure that it is honeycombed with spies. The General warns us all, as we report for duty, about the necessity of caution.

The sun has actually shone for a few days - I cannot understand it - to my mind the sun is a product peculiar to the United States.

BERLIN, February 22, 1919. We had a delightful time at the Roumanian's last evening, in fact so good a time that we are to go back again this evening. It happened this way: they discovered that I was very fond of music and tonight they are to have a little soiree. The Roumanian and Serbian folk songs are perfectly wonderful, and Col. Lupashu is to play them on the violin. (I cannot vouch for the spelling of these names, but phonetically they are correct. )

Today I sent Miss S. a cake of Ivory Soap, and she was delighted. The Germans use a chemical washing powder, but real soap has not been seen for years. I promised DeWolf, a Belgian, who is employed at the Spanish Embassy, to procure some shaving soap for him, at the prospect of which he is much pleased.

Tomorrow we are to assemble in the ball room of the American Embassy at noon to witness the presentation of the B. D. C. to Maj. Sylvester. It seems that he gave up his dug-out to the wounded and stood a ten hour bombardment, and then chased the Boche four kilometers. I am ashamed that I shall not bring you any medals - everyone else will come home wearing something in the way of decoration excepting myself.

Maj. Sylvester was among the first officers to report here for duty. He is the best type of American manhood. The General recently sent him to Brandenburg camp to investigate conditions, there having been some complaint. It took Sylvester only two hours to discover that the German General in charge was an ignorant, bigoted, incompetent bore. He requested this General to have certain reforms instituted in the way of cleaning the barracks, etc., and waited twenty-four for some move in that direction to be made. When nothing had happened, he told the General that he was going to have the Commission remove him from duty. The General became enraged at a Major talking to him in this manner, but Sylvester made good his threat and the General is no longer in command at Brandenburg.

BERLIN, February 23, 1919. We had a very pleasant time last evening. The Colonel played beautifully, and a Roumanian music teacher was invited, whose accompaniment was perfect. I also had an opportunity to see Roumanian officers dance, and, in my opinion Donald Brian had better come over to Bucharest and take lessons. I have never seen anything as graceful as their dancing.

Yesterday being the twenty-second, at supper I proposed a toast to George Washington. At once a Belgian, two Roumanians and two Americans, in the enemy's capital, stood and drank a health to the Father of our Country.

We are busy on the organization of the camps. It seem that Germany is divided into a number of army corps, Prussia alone having more than twenty, and Bavaria, three. The corps commander is almost like an absolute monarch, and the authorities in Berlin hesitate - indeed often refuse - to give any directions which affect the corps. This decentralization of government makes it very difficult for us. If we want something done at a camp the Germans in Berlin tell us that such an order must go through the Corps Commander. I think we shall get permission to deal direct in order to avoid red tape.

Col. Ryan and I have divided Germany into a number of small areas; in each area we have picked a camp which we call the parent camp, at which United States troops will be stationed. All the other camps in that area will be known as subsidiary camps and will report to us through the main camp. In all I think we shall have something like seventy-five camps. Fortunately, we do not have to worry about the seventh and tenth Army Corps, because the British Red Cross has, for months, been administering that area. There are not very many Russians there, only about 2,000 so far as I can learn. This reminds me of the difficulty we have had in learning the true number of Russian prisoners. You see the Germans were organized beautifully, but only for victory. It never occurred to them that they might lose, therefore, they never thought that anybody would be in position to ask them how many prisoners they had. If they were the victors, they would simply decline to answer. As it is, we have asked them repeatedly as to the number of Russian prisoners and have received answers which vary all the way from 300,000 to 700,000. My estimate, from the reports of Dr. Meyer, is that there are about 300,000. Fully one-half of these prisoners are not located directly in these camps, but are working on farms and in factories adjacent to the camps. On account of the unsettled conditions there is a constant movement of prisoners from camp to camp and from commando to the camp and vice versa. Can you imagine the condition of these Russians after four years off life under an authority which has a reputation for unscrupulousness and frightfulness? The signing of the Armistice weakened the Gordian authority so that the prisoners have been able to do almost as they pleased. This resulted in a body of ignorant men, of low morale, being allowed to wander about in an aimless sort of way. The sanitary and health conditions in the camps have, of course, suffered proportionately.

With the Red Cross now here ready to help us, we can bring in medical and surgical relief, hospital equipment, supplementary foods, clothes, etc. They are to establish main depots at Mayence and Coblenz. From these points trains will carry the supplies to subsidiary depots at Stettim, Berlin, Magdeburg, Dresden and Nuremberg. From these depots the food will be shipped to various prison camps all over Germany and will there be turned over to the Inter-Allied Officer in charge. The actual distribution of the food will be in the hands of the Allied Officer. The Red Cross will also maintain, at each camp, a sort of Red Cross store where a few necessities of life can be had.

BERLIN, February 24, 1919. The presentation of the Distinguished Service Cross to Maj. Sylvester was most impressive. I did not realize that there were so many of us here - "us" being the Allies. The room at the American Embassy was crowded, our numbers being swelled by an English and an Italian General with their Aides, several French officers, Russians, Roumanians, Red Cross officers and girls and an Italian Naval officer.

Gen. Harries walked to the center of the room and ordered Maj. Sylvester to approach. He then read the citation and made some very appropriate remarks. He said that to reduce machine gun nests and to advance against the enemy were the normal occupations of the soldier. They might be hazardous, indeed they were so, but that was natural and we all did such things. But to give up your protection to the wounded so that they might have a chance, and to expose yourself to a ten hour bombardment - described in the citation as "terrific" - and to then advance "across the Marne in the face of determined resistance" - that was heroic. "Therefore, I, in the name of the Commander in Chief of the Armies of the United States and in the City of Berlin, give you this cross."

The French kiss a soldier on these occasions. As soon as the cross was adjusted Gen. Harries sprang back one pace and saluted - a General honoring a brave man. Of course, it was snappily returned and I thought of Kipling's line:

"But there is neither east nor west, border, nor breed, nor birth when two strong men stand face to face though they come from the ends of the earth."

We congratulated Sylvester then and the occasion was over. One dramatic thing happened. Gen. Harries' speech was all but interrupted by a German military band, which passed down the street, - the bloating remnants of a former glory, which that little group of men and women at the Embassy had helped to shatter, and, by the irony of fate, they were playing Sousa's "Washington Post."

The British and the French are to turn their medical stores over to the American Red Cross so as to centralize the distribution. This will help fill the gap until the Red Cross supplies arrive. The way we have gotten on the job has delighted our Allies. As a matter of fact, I asked for these stores at a time when I had already taken them and they were safely on their way to the American Red Cross headquarters, saving thereby twenty-four hours. The American Red Cross headquarters is on the corner of Leipsiger and Friederickstrasse, where a large American Life Insurance Company formerly had offices.

Yesterday, at the request of Gen. Ewart, I made a sanitary inspection of the British Embassy. He was worried over some flies, and I found cause enough for their existence. I asked the care-taker why several piles of rubbish had not been removed, and he assured me that he had done his best to hire Germans to cart the stuff away but that it was impossible to find anyone who wanted to work. Yet the newspapers are crying all the time over the lack of work.

Many thanks for the Overseas Edition of the [Louisville, Kentucky] Courier Journal. Gen. Harries has also gotten copies of it.

BERLIN, February 25, 1919. The Winter of my discontent was made happy yesterday by a letter from you. It was mailed on January 22nd, and has followed me from Joinville to Selz, back to Joinville and then to Spa.

Last evening Gailmard and I called on Miss S., and I learned something of her history. She has been here eight years. At the beginning of the war her parents sent for her, but she refused to go home because she did not wish to return until she had made good. When her debut in opera was cancelled [sic] she turned to Mrs. I., an English woman who is married to a German, for advice, and Mrs. I. insisted on Miss S. living with her. She found work at the American Embassy under Gerard. When Gerard left and the work was turned over to the Spanish, they wired Washington that they would not be responsible for the passport department unless Miss S. were allowed to stay. Washington acquiesced and at this moment I suppose there is no better authority on the genuineness of passports held by American civilians in Germany than is Miss S. [Note: The Spanish were neutral during WWI. TBP ]

From the time she took up this work under the Spanish until she was forced out of the Embassy by the Germans, she had one continual fight with the latter. It seems that they had a way of taking up the passports of Americans who, for some reason or other did not return to their own country. In a few days the police would visit these people and demand their passports. Of course they had none. Germany had passed a law that anyone found without a passport should be considered a person without a country, and therefore, liable for military service. They thought in this way to press men into their army. Miss S. circumvented them by simply issuing duplicate passports as fast as the originals were taken away. Finally, when Germany heard that no German clerks were allowed to work in the German Embassy at Washington, after Bernstorf's withdrawal, they forced Miss S. out.

When Mr. Husband arrived in Berlin immediately after the Armistice, she heard of him in some way and was back at work in the Embassy, this time for the American Red Cross, the day after Mr. Husband arrived. We are very, very leery of Americans who did not return to their own country, but this is one case where I feel sure the person had every justification for staying.

The people with whom she is staying are perfectly charming. Technically, of course, they are Germans. Mrs. I, is a full blooded English woman and Mr. I.'s mother was English. They are the very old and aristocratic type of Jew, exceedingly exclusive and cultured. Their apartment eclipses anything I have seen. Best of all is the atmosphere of refinement, as expressed in their love of good music, their pictures (among them an original Teniers, a Gainsborough and a Turner) and their cosmopolitanism. They have three children, a girl of nineteen and two boys younger. All speak English, French and German with equal facility, One of the sons is quite interested in philanthropic work. He has a talent for drawing, and has recently won competition for a poster, which is to be used in raising funds to buy nipples for German babies. The scarcity of rubber has made this necessary. Mr. I., although entertaining English views, has done his duty by Germany. Through his connections he could have withdrawn his entire fortune from the country, but he has never made a move in that direction. We hear, of course, of how hard it is to gain entrance to this exclusive set, and I always smile when I think of the ease with which an American has entree everywhere. When Spring opens up I am invited to play tennis at their country home.

BERLIN, February 26, 1919. I am sleepy this morning, this dizzy world of society is too much for me. The trouble is these people seem to think it is necessary to stay up all night. It is the custom to stay at a place until one or one-thirty in the morning. It impresses me as a heavy Teutonic copy of Parisian life. The Germans have heard somewhere that in Paris "one simply never retires" and they try to imitate it.

Things look quite squally now. I understand that the Germans are soon to know the Peace Terms, and I expect their attitude toward us to change to a more hostile one. Up to now an American has had great power here. We can put an officer on the troop train and his presence alone will get the train through. Of course, they still look to America to feed them and that may keep them in line after the Peace Terms are published. In their hearts, however, they hate us, in fact, they hate everyone, even each other. I think it is the normal state of mind for a Prussian.

We hear that the Poles and the Germans are fighting now, and that the Czecho-Slavs are again on the war path. This, too, will help close tighter than ever the outlet for our poor Russians. These little peoples that keep at war with each other remind one of so many bad children.

BERLIN, February 27, 1919. I have just gotten word that ten Italian medical officers are on their way here - that will add another language to be struggled with. Fortunately, one of our medical officers speaks Italian, and I shall get him to translate for me. It is very hard to decide where to send the Italian just now, for conditions are squally everywhere. South of Posen and in the direction of Breslau the Poles are fighting the Germans; all Bavaria is seething with trouble. I wonder how long it will be before the whole thing blows up and it is every fellow for himself.

Maj. Boule gave me a pistol yesterday to carry at night. We are operating under the Geneva Conference, and on account of us the Hotel Adlon displays a Red Cross flag, but there are so many hold-ups and robberies that I feel no hesitancy in arming myself at night.

9 P.M. I am glad I waited, for just now eight letters from you were handed me. All had gone to the Army Sanitary School, at Langres. I am afraid any mail sent care the 113th Sanitary Train is at the dead letter office, for they refuse to open packages of mail addressed to an organization which has gone home, even when they know that certain ones of that organization are still on this side. If the organization has been sent home, all mail so addressed goes back. It is a fine system and shows the enormous effort being made to get mail to the soldiers. The big gaps between my letters from you are only gradually being filled in.

BERLIN, February 28, 1919. We have had to give up the idea of renting the Y. M. C. A. building. It seems now that there is a scheme to rent the second floor of this hotel and run a mess of our own with food brought up from Coblenz. I shall ask for a larger office.

I went to the Kriegsministerium yesterday to get certain maps of the German prison camps. They had told me there were none to be had but I knew this was not true. Finally, they admitted that the maps were there, but that they could not be given out. I produced an American cigarette and the German Major began fingering the maps. I offered him a cigarette and he asked me how many maps I wanted. I only wanted six, but as I lighted his cigarette for him and let him get a taste of real tobacco, (the first he had inhaled for years) I said, "Eighteen". "My dear Major" he said, promoting me to a Major on the spot, "You can have anything in my office", and he then roundly scored his assistant for having kept me waiting. Sic transit gloria Germanorum.

I was leaving the Kriegsministerium when the guard passed, consisting of about 200 soldiers and a band. They march around the City every day for the moral effect, to make some show of law and order. We always step into a side street when we see them coming to avoid any unpleasantness. This time I stood well back in a doorway and watched them. A soldier, instead of marching at attention, looked around and happened to catch my eye. He smiled and several others, seeing him, looked over and invited me, by signs, to come along and march with them. Can you imagine it?

BERLIN, March 2, 1919. We have rented the whole of one floor of the hotel and the Chief of Staff, Col. Parker, has assigned a most beautiful suite to me. It is foolish for me to take these rooms, because I will surely have to give them up to some one who ranks me. Nevertheless I am now occupying the suite formerly engaged by Geraldine Farrar [ Note: an American actress. TBP]. It is composed of a sitting room, a huge bed room and a bath. I am told that Miss Farrar and the Crown Prince were quite intimate years ago, - so intimate, in fact, that before the Revolution it was quite customary to see post-cards in the shop windows, one with his picture, one with the picture of the Crown Princess and between the two a picture of Miss Farrar. You can draw your own conclusions. I am also told that they had many lively parties in these very rooms. My desk is in an alcove whose four windows look up and down the Wilhelmstrasse. I can see a military band coming right now, escorting the Guard, which is about to change.

One of the maids has just been telling of the illustrious people who have had rooms on this floor. Besides Farrar, who had my suite, our Quartermaster's office was occupied by the Queen of Belgium and the Queen of Sweden and a number of German royalty. The Kaiser and his wife, of course, returned their calls here. Our dining room was often occupied by the Kaiser's second son, whose home life was not happy, and who is said to have given wild dinners at the Adlon. The fact of these Royal Spectres [sic] has not disturbed our rest in any way.

There is some sort of a demonstration on for today. The Government is getting its troops out early to hold off any trouble. This sitting on a volcano is quite interesting. The trouble is we can rarely tell just exactly the cause of the demonstration.

I shall leave this open in the hope that something interesting may happen when the demonstration really comes off.

10 P.M. Well, it came off all right. The German General, von Lettow-Vorbeck, who fought so bravely in East Africa and who laid down his arms after the Armistice, was received in the Pariser Platz right beneath the Adlon Hotel windows, at 3 P.M. He had about 120 soldiers with him. I understand that when he stopped fighting he had about 150 whites and 2,000 blacks in his army. Lettow's soldiers wore their hats turned up on one side after the fashion of the Australians. Many of them are in English uniforms, for the English re-clothed them and gave them a ship home, and, indeed allowed them to return home, out of respect to the General's fighting ability. He led Gen. Smuts a merry chase over East Africa for more than two years and never was caught. The English like a good sport, and it is said that this man did fight clean. Gen. Ewart was much interested and came over to our office to witness the reception. He was Gen. Smut's [sic] Chief of Staff for two and one-half years. It happened that he and I stood at a window together when Gen. Lettow and his company came through the Brandenburger Tor and were received by the shouting throngs. He remarked to me, "I am indeed glad to see that man's face, because I fought him for two and a half years and only saw his back." During the ceremony of the reception there was much speaking and singing and a prayer for their dead comrades. All of this we witnessed from the windows, which were immediately above the crowd.

After the parade a great crowd gathered in front of the hotel and shook their fists at us. I think it was only a comparatively few hot-heads, for others were seen trying to keep order and were heard to maintain that we "had not hissed", etc. I do not know what we were supposed to have done, but evidently the Germans took exceptions to something and it resulted in some 10,000 very angry faces being turned in our direction. It is not a pleasant thing to look down on a demonstration like this, where every face is convulsed with hate toward you. Of course, we had not hissed - we had only looked on. It looked right badly for us for a moment, but the Government troops took position in the hotel doorways and closed the iron gates and the disturbance has died down.

I had to go out shortly after the crowd broke up, but beyond some unfriendly stares, I noticed nothing in particular. Anyhow, Gen. Harries has ordered us to stay in the hotel until further orders. You see, the East African fighter is really the one German General to win any laurels in the whole German army, and his rest upon the fact that he ran away very skillfully. The German people are hungry for something besides defeat and they cheered this afternoon until they were hoarse. That made them very cocky, and therefore, they turned on us. I tell you, they do not know yet that they have been defeated, and I believe it would not take much to have a lot of them rally to a good leader.

I would not miss this for a fortune! Just think, a prisoner in Berlin and guarded by Government troops against the Germans. I was down in the lobby of the hotel a moment ago, and there stands the guard, helmet and all, and who knows but that tomorrow this same guard may decide to be on the other side and turn his machine gun toward the hotel lobby instead of toward the crowd.

A French General, not Dupont, today had to be escorted to the hotel by a guard with fixed bayonets, I am told. Apparently it is only the lower classes who are showing their hostility, and undoubtedly the excitement of the big parade today led to it. They really do not know what they do want.

I had a long talk lately with Maj. Hecker. He tried to explain a lot of things to me. Said that at the root of Bolshevism there was a kernel of truth, but that it was elaborated in a crazy, impractical way by these untutored minds. Even those ordinarily clear-headed, after four years of abnormal diet, could not think normally. He felt that he was sitting over a volcano - he never knew when he left home for the office whether he could get back or not.

An officer is never safe; disloyal soldiers might fall upon him at any moment and this explains why so many officers are in civilian clothes. I have also noticed that many German officers are without insignia of any sort, merely wearing the uniform. Hooker added that if the Entente dictated terms of peace that Germany could not accept, then all Germany would turn Bolshevik and that chaos would then beggar description. I asked him the cure for it all, and he replied, "Work and food." I pointed out lots of work to be done, and he said there is a lack of raw materials. I tried to get him to name anything that prevented the building of houses, or the underground railway in this City, and he could find no answer. When asked if he did not think it due, not to a lack of work, but to the pernicious practice of paying those without work eight to twelve marks a day, "My God! man," he said, and he really seemed quite agitated, "it is only those eight marks that stands between us and chaos. It alone holds them in line, stop it for a day and life will not be worth a thing." He was very much in earnest. Said that the Entente could line the Rhine with canon, wheel on wheel, and still Bolshevism would spread. I pointed out that a winning army will not fall a victim to Bolshevism.

BERLIN, March 3, 1919. I have just found out why the crowd which gathered yesterday in front of our hotel ten thousand strong, was so angry with us. Certain ones of the crowd declared that an American soldier had appeared at the window and had thrown bits of cake down to them. They, of course, interpreted this as a bit of bravado, showing that he could eat cake and that they, the poor, suffering Germans. might have the crumbs. This has been thoroughly investigated by Gen. Harries and it was found that our Mess Sergeant, instead of throwing "cake" at the throng, was amusing himself by throwing "kisses" to certain fair ones he saw below. At least, this is his explanation. Needless to say, the Sergeant will not do so in the future.

Gen. Harries is getting very tired of these demonstrations against us. Today he called on the German authorities to have them stopped; that he did not intend that we should be subjected to such humiliating circumstances again. They will be stopped, too, For the Government troops at all times have much the jump on the others. Just imagine an American crowd of ten thousand people being kept out of a hotel by eight or ten soldiers: They would have bound and gagged the soldiers and wrecked the hotel in ten minutes. I will say, however, to look down into ten thousand angry faces and hear their hisses and their mutterings is not a pleasant experience.

We have recently been assigned an Army Postal Clerk, so that now we can send and receive postal money orders. Our A. P. O. is 946.

BERLIN, March 4, 1919. The papers are full of conflicting statements now as to the riot which occurred for our benefit the other day. Needless to say, none of them are true.

Last night the general strike started. Everything is dead, railroads, street cars, the under-ground and many newspapers. I am glad to say that the railroad between here and Coblenz, which brings our supplies to us and our mail, is not affected. Should it be, I imagine we would either run it ourselves or continue our service by air.

I rather imagine some interesting things will transpire today. Of course, we could not go out last night, but I heard a good deal of shooting and I understand that many streets are barricaded. As I look down Wilhelmstrasse, however, it appears perfectly normal. I shall have a chance to look around a bit when I interview the head of the Bureau of Vital Statistics at the Ministry of Interior today. He has asked to lay certain facts before me relative to the effect of the English Blockade on German health. just why he selected me I do not know, but I shall be glad to listen to him.

Yesterday when I was on the street I noticed very little change in their attitude toward me - perhaps it was a bit less friendly. We are allowed to leave the hotel "on business and to return as soon as this is accomplished." This is probably best also, for we do not want to have to resent any insults. The German has a very nasty way of spitting in your direction. He does not quite hit you, but it is uncomfortably near. Of course, you know what must happen if he should hit you.

10 P.M. I have been out several times today, and the people are unmistakably hostile; they fairly glare at you. The strike has been extended to almost every line of industry - even our telephones are cut off. Everyone in Berlin is walking. This sort of spirit will engender riots. it really seems quite serious. There has been a lot of damage done to life and property in the last few days. I do not know what our isolated detachments in the camps will do, but smaller places are really safer than the big cities, except for the food situation. Of course, we walk around as though nothing were happening, but just one person bumping into us, and the fat will be in the fire. There were seven persons killed here yesterday. It is necessary for me to go out so much that I may wear my Red Cross Brassard tomorrow, though that is said to have made a good target during the war.

I had a long talk with Geheimerat Crone this morning. He furnished me with some figures that I am very glad to get. This is about what he had to say, as near as I can remember it:

Geheimerat Crone is the head of the Bureau of Vital Statistics of the Ministry of the Interior in Prussia. He is a physician, but several times was addressed as, "General."

He stated that it was agreed among scientific men that 3300 calories were necessary for maintaining proper bodily functions. The lack of food, due to the blockade, had resulted in the reduction of this amount to 1000 calories. The reduction occurred principally in albumen and fats. The normal body requires daily about 70 grammes [sic] of fat. This had been reduced to about 7 to 10 grammes [sic]. The resultant loss of weight varied from 20 to 120 pounds, He and other gentlemen present mentioned a number of individual cases. This general loss in weight among the population resulted in an increase in hernias, ptosis of female generative organs and in floating kidney.

He stated that the mortality during each year of the war was progressively greater than that of 1913, and that the increase reached, in 1918, thirty-seven per cent. This increase totals, for the four years, 76,000.

The material damage caused by the loss of these persons has been computed on a sliding scale, ranging from 8,380 marks for a new born babe, to 30,300 marks for a fifteen year old child. A person of thirty years is valued at 2,900 marks. The total valuation of the 763,000 amounts to 8,400,000,000 marks.

He claimed all the victim of grippe [ Note: influenza. TBP ] had died as the result of the lack of food. I protested that if lack of food caused the death of these unfortunates, how was it to be explained that there were 300,000 deaths from grippe in the United States, which figures were quoted from the newspapers. This, he was unable to answer. Claimed, however, that the death rate among English prisoners, fed from home, was almost nil, in great contrast to the death rate among the German people. One tenth of the grippe cases developed pneumonia, and from these, 30 to 35 per cent died. In order to arrive at more accurate data, and in order to eliminate the factor of gripped [sic], I asked for figures on tuberculosis.

The mortality from tuberculosis increased steadily during the three first years of the war, over and above the usual number, but in 1917 and 1918 there was an enormous increase in the victims. The total, above the 1913 average for the duration of the war, was 79,000 deaths. This means also that there were just that many more loci from which the infection of other people might come.

Germany had very little typhoid fever, due to the vaccination. Their death rate is 8 per cent. In contrast to the experience in the United States, the concentration of troops, principally recruits, did not result in epidemics of measles. This was probably due to the more thickly settled conditions in Germany.

No increase in death rate was noted in children less than one year old. During the war more mothers nursed their young on account of the lack of cows' milk. These mothers were paid a gratuity by the Government. The mortality from child-bed fever increased from 21 to 36 per cent in 1918, due, it was claimed, to low resistance resulting from the lack of food.

Crone claimed that during the war, there was an actual loss in births of 4,000,000, that is, there were 4,000,000 fewer births during that time than there should have been. In the beginning, this was accounted for by the fact that the men were in the field. Later, physicians became convinced that it was due to an actual loss in reproductive power on the part of the female. Animal experimentation is said to have verified this fact(?). The blockade is charged with the responsibility of 1,000,000 of this dirth [sic] in births, which, figured at 8,380 marks per child, makes a total of 8,400,000,000 marks.

Inasmuch as venereal disease is not among the diseases which one is compelled by law to register, he could give only a general idea of the increase. Said that there was naturally an increase in percentage of this disease, as occurs during all wars. This may have its effect on the lowered birth rate.

The loss of fat also resulted in a continuous itching of the skin, and dryness thereof, with an increase of skin disease, particularly furunculosis [sic]. Scarcity of soap undoubtedly aided in this. The monetary loss, due to the loss of productive ability and slowness of brain power, is enormous.

A very high mortality was noticed in insane asylums. A pecular [sic] edema of the feet and legs was found among the troops in camps, not necessarily in the trenches. This was not the case with English prisoners, who lived under the same conditions, except that they were fed by food parcels from home, and was due to lack of fat and the large water content of the soups.

These various changes were noticed particularly after January, 1917, which coincides with the tins that the German people felt the weight of the blockade. He stated that the Government had just allowed an increase in the meal ration, in spite of the fact that it knows there is only enough to last from four to six weeks.

The blockade caused a great scarcity, indeed a total lack, of such drugs as hydrastis, ipecac, camphor and menthol. Quinine and. cocaine became very rare. Surgical cotton, cat gut, rubber gloves and cushions almost disappeared. Most surgeons operated with bare hands after 1916. He, therefore, charges that the blockade has damaged Germany to the extent of the following table:

"Thus the injuries caused to the health of the German people through the enemy blockade correspond to a damage to Germany's national wealth surpassing 4,600,000,000 marks."

He said that the Germans looked upon the blockade as worse, that is, more inhuman, than U-boat warfare, because, "one could defend one's self against the U-boats." He did not explain how, and I never argue - I simply listen and ask questions. I did say, however, that in '71, the Parisians were forced to eat rats. He answered, "Well, at least that was meat." He claimed that Bismark, immediately after signing the Armistice, had carloads of bacon sent into Paris. I do not know that this is true, but if so, then the German has changed since Bismark's time, for no one ever heard of them feeding the Belgians.

BERLIN, March 5, 1919. Last night was quiet in the City, and, although the newspapers have not come, I heard no shooting: I did hear lot of troops marching about. The hotel is guarded but I had almost as soon have a gang of thugs. All the many robberies and murders done in Berlin are done by men in uniform.

There are so many officers at the Adlon now that it is necessary to start another mess. The General's mess must always have the same number, so a few have been selected and the rest eat in the large dining room in another part of the hotel.

BERLIN, March 6,1919. There is little of interest to report this morning beyond shooting at various points throughout the town. The Government troops have taken very firm hold of the situation, although many expect the Government to be overthrown any minute. I am sure that many people in Berlin are not in sympathy with the general strike. The most active in its interest are the roughest and most uneducated elements. Apparently they simply want a chance to plunder the shops, which is just what they would do. It would be quite fitting for German ex-soldiers to act in Berlin as German soldiers acted in the cities of Belgium and Northern France. One wonders if they would add atrocities to their looting!

Five Medical Department enlisted men reported here yesterday. They will be a great help. Two are non-commissioned officers. I called them into the office this morning and impressed upon them the importance of presenting a snappy appearance at all times, explaining that we were under the critical eye of the enemy every minute. It is pleasing to note this morning a marked. improvement in their dress, and I have already heard them complimented by Col. Ryan.

It became necessary yesterday, during a demonstration, for me to send the youngest of the five to the Red Cross. I had cautioned him to avoid all crowds, and before long he was back, telling me that he could not deliver he message because of the throng around the Red Cross building. By means of a map of the City, I showed him how he could enter the Red Cross office through a rear door, and when he came to me a second time he had delivered his message without incident.

6 P.M. The City is dreadfully upset; no newspapers are published at all. There is firing going on in many parts, even cannon being used. Government troops seem to have the upper hand still, but an empty stomach makes a good revolutionist.

The feeling toward us is noticeably more hostile. They think we are responsible for food not coming. Some of the orderlies were jeered at today on the street. It has been necessary for me to go out a good deal, so I finally put on my brassard - it might save me an insult. The hotel is supposed to have been attacked last night, but I heard nothing of it. Evidently the guard at the door was able to quell the disturbance. It is funny to see armored cars, and even tanks, ambling about.

You should see some of the calls for aid that are pouring in to the office from the Russians in isolated hospitals. I am kept busy trying to provide food, medicines and clothes in response, One letter today, from a German doctor, asks for food for his patients. He is the head of a tuberculosis hospital. Inasmuch as his patients are Germans, what can I do? They are our "enemies" and we cannot feed the enemy". I shall attempt to get permission to give them some milk, at least.

The food situation is evidently getting worse each day. I hope the Entente will allow its entrance very soon.. It is quite unbearable to see the pinched faces. One can almost read through their ears, they are so bloodless and thin. I hate to see this in the women and children. Let us ration them, but not too well, because once fed, the Prussian will be as arrogant as ever. If America feeds them now they will undoubtedly be our friends - until it is to their advantage to be otherwise, anyhow.

Everyone is on the lookout for a disturbance tonight. Predictions are made that the Ebert government will not last three days. Apparently it will not last long unless food comes. I suppose when it does come we will be given the keys to the City. The population is now but tasting, to a small degree, what was forced upon Belgium, Serbia and France, but they are powerless now, and it does not seem very sporty to hit them when they are down.

The mark has fallen again - one can get 212 for 100 francs. A week ago we thought we did well to get 161.

BERLIN, March 7, 1919. To my surprise the night was quiet, as far as I have been able to learn. I heard little shooting. From my window I can still see the guards stopping people who wish to turn into the Wilhelmstrasse, and demanding their passes. They go about it in a most business-like way.

One reason the Government troops can maintain the upper hand is because of a battalion formed entirely of former officers. These men deserve a lot of credit, for they alone stand for some semblance of law and order. They make a fine body of troops, too.

The waiter who has just brought my breakfast tells me that the police headquarters is in the hands of the Spartacus, but that German troops have them shut in on all sides and are about to bombard them with cannon. The attack is expected today.

You know we receive three daily papers, the New York Herald (Paris edition), the Chicago Tribune and the London Daily Mail, besides the Stars & Stripes. The Chicago Tribune of a day or two ago, Paris edition, had some scare-heads about the "attack" on us, and I am afraid it may worry you. Of course, we are all right. This "battle" is a very stupid thing. I can hear the machine guns rattling away right now - probably an attack on police headquarters. Now and then you hear a hand grenade and even a six inch cannon, but we are as safe as can be, because just now the Boche is busy killing his brother, rather than us. I go around everywhere that my work makes necessary and have never had any trouble.

Yesterday I unconsciously got into the newspaper district. It seems that newspaper offices are among the first buildings to be attacked, because each side wishes to control the press. I did notice that the street had many barricades, but the guards of these barricades let me through every time.

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