Switzerland's Part
I
SWITZERLAND, that little country entirely surrounded by war, is playing a very noble and unselfish part in the world’s tragedy. When war broke out the Swiss people accepted without a murmur the sacrifice that the mobilization of their army involved, and have, in spite of their heavy financial burdens, sought to ameliorate the condition of the unfortunate victims of the war in all the belligerent countries.
August 1 is the national holiday in Switzerland. It is fêted with enthusiasm by all classes. From every accessible mountain peak at dusk rises a beacon fire to show that all goes well. But on August 1, 1914, there were few beacon fires, and no merrymaking, for the day before, in each town and village, a man with a drum had called the people together, and had read the notice of the mobilization of most of the army for the following Monday. The farmers were in the midst of their harvesting and the vignerons were jealously tending their vines in prospect of a good yield of fruit. In ordinary times this work would have been put aside for the festivities, which usually begin with games, target-shooting, and tests of strength, and end with dances at the cafés. But this year, with the men and horses going, there was little enough time for all the necessary work, so the fields were peopled from dawn to dusk; children and old people raked up the hay which strong young women and men cut with the heavy Swiss scythes. And to every Alpine pasture was sent some one not fit for military service, to replace the cowherds, who, upon these heights, care for the combined herds of the villagers.
The grave question whether Switzerland would share the fate of Luxemburg and Belgium engrossed every mind. The frontiers must be guarded; so there was no lamenting heard when the men left. In the country the women went back to their double burdens; in the towns many shops were closed, and as quickly as possible most of the thousands of foreigners left for their respective countries.
Those who stayed on had occasion to benefit by the kindness of the Swiss hotel-keepers. Many were entertained for weeks without paying a cent of board, and some were even supplied with pocket-money until funds could arrive from their homes. The financial loss to these same hotel-keepers has been enormous, for they, and much of Swiss commerce, depend almost exclusively upon the tourists, who, since the beginning of hostilities, have naturally been almost non-existent.
At that very moment, when, by reason of the mobilization, the State was compelled to make a large and unusual outlay, the receipts of its railroads dropped to almost nothing; so the people have not only given their personal services, but have very heavy additional taxes to pay as well. It might have seemed natural that, under conditions imposed upon them by a war in no way sympathetic to them, the Swiss should have contented themselves with doing this, their full duty. But so far from this being the case, collections were made on all sides in favor of the victims of the war, and well-organized benevolent works sprang into existence.
Hundreds of homeless Belgians were received and distributed about the country, none except the ill going into institutions, but all being sent into Swiss homes — a child, or an old couple, or a whole family, according to the request of the householder. And there were offers of homes for a thousand more children than came. As a precautionary measure against epidemics, these refugees, on their arrival at Geneva or Lausanne, were detained for twenty-four hours before being sent to their destinations. During this time they were given new clothes and a bath, and were examined by a doctor; and a complete record, with all particulars as to health, place of origin, and so on, was made for each individual. Through this record many families have been reunited.
Something of the same kind is now being done for the Serbs, and a large contingent of Serbian orphans is expected. These children will be taken into homes where they will be treated as members of the family, and will be brought up with ideals of democracy as understood by the Swiss.
Much financial aid has also been sent to the Polish, Lithuanian, and Armenian sufferers, it being the only kind possible under the circumstances.
Soon after the war began, appeals came from France and Serbia for medical aid in their hospitals. One of the greatest Swiss surgeons went to Besançon, where he worked with several of his assistants and a staff of Swiss nurses until his University duties recalled him to Lausanne. Other Swiss surgeons and nurses went to different hospitals in France; and five young surgeons (one of whom had already been decorated for his services during the Balkan War) left for Serbia, where, after valiant work, three fell victims to typhus, from which only one recovered. Other eminent surgeons gave their services for a time to Austria and Germany.
II
Though in its relief work, as in every other official attitude, Switzerland is entirely neutral, its geographical position makes it natural that the bulk of its work should have to do with the victims of the western theatre of war; and it is particularly with this part that I shall deal.
Early in 1915, at the instance of the Swiss government, France and Germany agreed to an exchange, through the medium of the Swiss Red Cross, of those prisoners of war too badly wounded for future military service. At intervals ever since, Swiss Red Cross hospital trains have simultaneously left Constance and Lyons, loaded with the wounded. The trains are arranged with tiers of stretchers on either side of the cars, and on the stretchers the invalids make the journey with a minimum of fatigue. Swiss doctors and nurses superintend the loading and unloading, and accompany the trains.
In this way thousands of the most severely wounded, or incurably sick, soldier prisoners have been able to regain their homes, or to be cared for in hospitals in their own countries. The governments of both France and Germany have shown themselves most grateful, and it was in recognition of this humane work that the French government presented to Switzerland a military aeroplane which had been obliged to alight on Swiss territory.
If thousands of French and German wounded have been exchanged by the Swiss, the interned civilians who have been repatriated may be counted by tens of thousands. Most of these were Belgians and French of the invaded regions, directed into France after having been interned for long or short periods in Germany. As the majority of these unfortunates had been taken from their homes at a moment’s notice, their sufferings had been great.
With those going into Germany, this was not often the case, for they were for the most part the wives and families of Austrians and Germans who had been living in France before the war, and from the outbreak of hostilities had known that they must leave. At the Swiss frontier (at Schaffhausen, if coming from Germany, and at Geneva, if coming from France) all were welcomed, fed, given a bath and an entire change of clothing if in need, and allowed to rest before being sent on in special trains.
This service of exchange of wounded and civilians is in charge of the Swiss Red Cross and the Territorial Service of the Army. The State, which owns the railroads, bears the expense of transportation, and individuals give the food and clothing. At all stations along their route, these trains, whether they pass by day or during the night, are met by large crowds who show their sympathy by bringing gifts of dainties and little comforts to the poor people who for so long have had nothing but the barest necessities of life. That this is appreciated is shown by the cheers of ‘Vive la Suisse!’ — sincere but quavering—that go up from the sick and aged, the women and children who pack the cars, and by the touching and grateful letters received by the committees after the travelers reach their destinations.
Often from the crowds on the station platforms are heard anxious inquiries addressed to the travelers as to whether any of them come from such and such a place, and whether they can give news of the whereabouts or fate of this family or that; and, surprisingly, some one is often found who does know the locality, and tells mournfully that the house of the family in question has been sacked and burned, and that the people sought for are also among those interned. Then the inquirer waits feverishly until the date when he finds upon the list of those passing through the name for which he is searching; and the meeting takes place.
In addition to providing the trains mentioned above, the Swiss government sends post-free packages of all sorts, letters, and money orders, addressed to prisoners. The magnitude of this enterprise will be better understood if I describe the War Prisoners’ post-office in Berne, in which mail-matter coming from foreign countries, to or from prisoners, is handled.
The office is in a great hall, one end of which is reserved for letters and money orders, while in the remainder stand great heaps of bags filled with packages waiting to be taken to the trains, and other mountains of parcels being sorted into bags by soldier employees. Two soldiers are constantly occupied in rewrapping and tying parcels which have come undone, while ten others are kept busy transporting the mail-bags to and from the station. The packages handled in this office are all rather small, under one kilogramme (2⅕ pounds) in weight, and most go to Germany. Many of those I saw rewrapped contained a loaf of bread, or some other kind of food. Often the addresses are very difficult for the authorities to decipher, as the foreign names of prisoners’ camps, written by hands evidently unaccustomed to that kind of work, are strangely altered. The care given to correcting the addresses on packages, as well as on letters, was most noticeable, and every employee seemed eager to do everything possible to make their arrival prompt and certain.
The letters and money orders are all handled by regular post-office employees, and they involve much more than the usual amount of work, for, as the superintendent told me, the department wants to hasten the arrival of this mail at its destination. To this end, bundles of prisoners’ letters and cards coming from Germany, marked simply France, are sorted for the different towns at Berne, instead of being forwarded to await their turn for sorting in the overworked, under-manned French frontier post-office. With this precaution taken, the mail is usually received about a fortnight after being sent.
The letters are often open and contain little gifts made by the prisoners. I was shown a really beautiful little seal ring of silver, the monogram being inlaid with copper, with the name of the maker engraved on the inside. The workmanship was exquisite, and one realized how precious the gift would be to the person for whom it was destined.
The money orders, too, involve much extra work, for the space reserved for ‘remarks’ is often filled by a closely written little letter — I saw one beginning ‘Caro Figlio.’ As financial relations are entirely broken off between the belligerent nations, Switzerland cannot forward the orders received, as in time of peace, but must make out a new Swiss order, instead of the original one. The country sending the money pays it to Switzerland, and Switzerland in turn pays the country in which the prisoner is held. Not only are these money orders rewritten, but the letters upon them are copied faithfully, so that, though in a strange hand-writing, the recipient gets the greetings with his money. Orders for about twenty thousand francs are received daily from France, and for about half that amount from Germany. During the month of December, 1915, over four hundred thousand francs were transmitted from Austria-Hungary to prisoners in Russia.
My attention was called to a bundle of letters just arrived from France, in which envelope after envelope, in the same handwriting, was addressed to the chaplain of each camp of prisoners and lazaret in Germany. The Superintendent told me that these were probably inquiries sent by the family of a soldier reported ‘missing.’
In the Christmas mails there were many little Christmas trees with their pathetic home-made ornaments and ‘goodies,’ sent to German prisoners in France, and, going in both directions, thousands of photographs of prisoners. It was noticeable in the poses of these photographs that the hands were held in full view — proof positive for their families that the prisoners had not lost them. A group of six Parisians had hit upon the idea of being photographed under a shower-bath. What better way could there be of showing that their wounds were healed and that they were in physically good condition?
Of the picture post-cards decorated by the prisoners themselves, there were many of real artistic value — a curious psychological detail being that, where figures did not form the subject in either original or printed cards, the French prisoners usually chose flowers, while the Germans chose landscapes, preferably winter landscapes. The spirit shown in both photographs and cards was good, for, thanks to the facility in communicating with their families and to the substantial help from the ‘Prisoners’ Aid’ societies, life in the prisoncamps is far more endurable than it was.
Though the bulk of prisoners’ mail passing through Berne goes from France to Germany, and vice versa, Switzerland also sends letters, money orders and small packages to Bulgaria, Turkey, Japan; to Great Britain and Italy, with their colonies, and to those of France. Letters and money orders are sent to Montenegro; and money orders between Austria-Hungary and Russia. Between France and Germany, as well as from Switzerland itself to either of these countries, packages up to 5 kilogrammes, addressed to prisoners, are also sent post-free.
III
A few statistics may be interesting: 7,782,680 letters and cards, and 636,839 small packages passed through the War Prisoners’ post-office in Berne in December, 1915. Large packages (up to 5 kilogrammes) for prisoners, handled by the Swiss post-offices in the same month, numbered 2,427,376. Packages of bread sent from various towns in Switzerland from the beginning of the war up to the end of 1915, amounted to 751,404, aggregating 1,428,267 kilogrammes. The large consignments of bread sent by the English, French, Russian and other committees of the ‘Prisoners’ Aid’ go in carloads by express service, also at the expense of the State, and do not pass through the post-office.
There are two hundred and fifty post-office employees working exclusively for the War Prisoners’ postoffices, and, in 1915, these offices cost the Administration four hundred and twenty-three thousand francs. The amount which the mail-matter handled would have brought in revenue to the country had it been stamped in the usual way, would, for the year 1915, have reached over nine million francs. Of this sum, seven million francs would have come from the consignments going to and from French civil and military prisoners in Germany.
Soldiers doing service on the front in Austria-Hungary, France, Germany, and Italy have free postal privileges when writing to members of their families who reside in Switzerland, and Swiss soldiers doing service have reciprocal privileges when writing to members of their families residing in Austria-Hungary, France, and Germany.
One cannot leave the subject of correspondence between the victims of the war without speaking of the several admirable organizations in Switzerland which have as their object the facilitating of communication between members of families separated. Certain of these committees occupy themselves exclusively in locating civilians who have disappeared and in forwarding letters to them, while others may also be consulted as to the whereabouts of missing soldiers.
Surely one of the most useful of the numerous benevolent organizations is the Œuvre Universitaire Suisse, which helps those students who, living in Switzerland and cut off from receiving money from their homes, find themselves in a critical position; or those who, as prisoners of war, are faced with months of enforced idleness, and have no means of continuing the studies which the mobilization interrupted. The Swiss universities have a very large percentage of foreign students, especially Russian and Polish, and from the Balkan States. In Lausanne, to cite the town where, I believe, the Œuvre Universitaire began, University students who are without resources may draw from the University a small monthly allowance — very small, of course, but enough for them to keep body and soul together; and every effort is made to help them in other ways.
The universities in German Switzerland — Basel, Berne, and Freiburg — look after the intellectual welfare of the students in prison camps in France; while the Universities of Geneva, Lausanne, and Neuchâtel make themselves responsible for French-speaking students in German camps. The University of Zürich has one camp of Germans in France, and two camps in Germany which contain French and Russian students.
To these are sent textbooks, and, in as large a measure as possible, laboratory materials. Classes in the camps are organized, and lectures by specialists, who are themselves prisoners, are given. Students in the Swiss universities send résumés of lectures and work done, while copies of technical and scientific periodicals containing no political articles, as well as University publications, keep the prisoner in touch with the intellectual movement.
Early in 1916, after many months of pourparlers between the governments of France and Germany, has finally arrived the first contingent of invalid prisoners who are to be interned in Swiss health resorts until the end of the war. They are divided according to nationality, the French going to French Switzerland, and the Germans to various portions of German Switzerland. They will live in hotels and sanitariums, under guard of Swiss troops, and their régime will be that of invalids in the Swiss army. The cost of guarding them, and their keep — six francs per day for officers, and four francs for privates — will be borne by their own governments.
A large number of the invalids already arrived are suffering from tuberculosis, but have not reached the incurable stage. They are sent to mountain resorts like Arosa, Davos, Leysin, and Montana, where the doctors are specialists and there is a maximum of sunshine. The decision as to what prisoners are to benefit by this hospitality is made by Swiss doctors who visit the prison camps in France and Germany, and choose those invalids whom they think most in need of the care and treatment. It is to be hoped that nothing will prevent this plan from being carried out on a very large scale, for the many sick people who, in normal times, have come to Switzerland with the various maladies to which the flesh is heir can testify to the wonderful cures that take place in its mountain resorts and spas. And even for those who will not be cured, what a blessed change from a concentration camp, no matter how well organized and managed, will be provided by this marvelous air and scenery, and the knowledge that in this friendly country their families are free to join them if needed!
And there are others for whom the Swiss have been solicitous. In helping their suffering neighbors they have not forgotten their own people, who, owing to the mobilization of the breadwinner, also risk becoming war-victims. To the wife and each child of the man doing military service the State pays an allowance, and, when necessary, supplements this with additional financial aid. In the canton of Zürich alone such aid reached a total, from the beginning of the war to the end of 1915, of over three million francs.
For the soldiers themselves, the ‘Maison du Soldat’ is proving a boon. This name is given to the châlets built by private subscription (one has been given by Americans living in Switzerland), in which the men find free reading and writing material, and can buy non-alcoholic drinks at cost. As the necessary funds are raised, a châlet is built and opened in each locality where troops are concentrated. Another comfort for them is the laundry in almost every town, where the soldiers’ clothes are washed and mended by women who would otherwise be unemployed.
It must not be supposed that the money raised for these many benevolent enterprises in Switzerland comes only from the purses of the well-to-do, for a notable feature in the lists of contributions is that many factory and shop employees pay a percentage of their wages ‘during a month,’ or, ‘for the duration of the war’; and this generosity, which means real sacrifice, is very general. Recently, after a lecture given in aid of the blind French wounded, an old laborer came to the speaker with his offering of a five-franc piece, representing most of his day’s wage. The lecturer, realizing this, protested that it was too much for him to give, but was answered with characteristic independence: ‘Is that any of your business? I ’ve my sight, and I want to send this to those who’ve lost theirs.’
So it will be seen that the Swiss fulfill in their charities their ideal of democracy, which is second only to their patriotism, and which grants to each and all the right to share burdens as well as benefits.