et, in which the coffee was replaced by hot milk,
which would have been very desirable, except that the dinner consisted
of some filthy substance, which was very unpalatable.

For the first week, therefore, I had practically only one meal a day,
the dinner; but afterwards, by dint of changing from one diet to
another I managed to get the dinner of No. 1 diet, and the milk of No.
2.

There was a canteen in the hospital where cigarettes, chocolates,
biscuits, and eggs were offered for sale.

The biscuits were never in stock; the chocolate, though high in price,
was so thin that there was nothing of it; and the cigarettes were
unsmokable.

It was a sorry day when we could get no more eggs. We used to depend
upon the eggs for supper; for the cheese was uneatable, the brawn
suspicious, and the sausage like boiled linoleum. German sausage at
the best of time is open to argument; but German sausage in a country
which has been blockaded for two and a half years is worthy of serious
thought.

The surgical attention was good, though the Russian prisoners who
assisted were apt to be rough; and as neither the German doctor nor
his Russian assistant could understand each other, and the wounded
could understand neither, nor be understood in turn, the situation was
sometimes difficult.

The doctor visited each bed at 8 A.M. every morning to inquire the
condition of the wounded; but whatever you had to say--which of course
he did not understand--the reply was always: "Goot, Goot."

On one occasion we saw flags flying over the city, and that evening
for supper we were given a hard-boiled egg. We were told it was the
Empress's birthday. We made anxious inquiries as to when the Kaiser
and the Crown Prince would have a birthday.

A few days after I arrived at Hanover, my right eye was removed, and
the following day the doctor told me, through an interpreter, that I
should be sent back to England. I asked when I should be sent, and was
told in three or four weeks.

It was about this time that I began to develop an unsatiable appetite
for sweet things. I have found that many have had the same experience,
after a period of privation following upon their wounds. I would buy
up all the jam, chocolate, and toffy I could lay my hands on, which
came in parcels to other prisoners. When I wrote home for parcels to
be sent to me, I hardly mentioned food, which afterwards became so
necessary, but asked for sweet stuff.

But what I needed