Page:Albert Beaumont - Heroic Story of the Czecho-Slovak Legions - 1919.djvu/4

 uniform, with the leaf of the popular Bohemian tree as their only distinction. They know only their own native language, and it is the first time that Czech is spoken by such a large number under the sunny sky of Italy.

The army is being formed of ex-prisoners taken in the East and the West, and no small number at the Italian front, and by volunteers from America. Their officers have been called from France and Russia, and from the distant stations of Siberia. They are fine-looking, soldierly men, of medium size, taciturn as a rule, but with a bright twinkle in their blue eyes and a strong patriotic fervour in their hearts. It is difficult at first to understand them and penetrate into their souls, which they seem anxious to hide from the stranger. They are so retiring, so modest, so unassertive, that one might easily mistake the qualities they conceal. The Austrians, their former masters, completely misjudged them; the Russians, for three years misunderstood them, and the Allies for long ignored them. It required their splendid performances in every task to which they were put by the Russians, and finally their heroic exploits in Siberia, to elicit from the world all the credit and admiration they deserve.

The Czecho-Slovak army has few generals. It is one of their traits of modesty not to hurry to create them. There will be plenty of time to do so later. At present the whole collection of camps is under the command of an officer under the rank of general, Colonel Gibis, who has also been in Siberia. A colonel who has 40,000 men to take care of is a busy man, and I could not ask him to devote time to me. He kindly referred me to two other officers, who had been with him in Siberia, Captain “N.“ and Captain “S.“ as they prefer to be designated, and they very gladly volunteered to relate to me the story of a crowded life. One was taken prisoner in 1915, and the other in the beginning of 1916. The former was sent to various camps near Omsk, and the latter was director of a Czecho-Slovak camp in Turkestan. They had witnessed all the difficulties of the Czecho-Slovaks in Russia, and their transformation from prisoners of war into legions of fighting soldiers. “It is a long story,“ they said, “but if you have patience to listen we shall gladly relate it.“ I was only too pleased to listen. Here is Captain N.’s story:

I had been a student for five years at the Prague Gymnasium and University. I had followed the lectures of Professor Masaryk, and was one of his admirers. This, I think, ought to be enough to prove that I was an ardent Czech and cherished, like our dear professor and teacher, whom we all love and adore, the patriotic hope of some day