d
been placed on the train for our requirements. What was more we were
denied the opportunity to purchase any food at any station where we
happened to stop. At one point a number of girls pressed round the
carriages offering glasses of milk at 20 pfennigs. As we were all
famished and parched there was a brisk trade. But the moment the
officers saw what was happening they rushed forward and drove the girls
back by force of arms.

So far as our compartment was concerned we were more fortunate than many
of our colleagues. Our soldier warden was by no means a bad fellow at
heart. In his pack he carried his daily ration--two thick hunks of black
bread. He took this out and instantly proffered one hunk to us, which we
gladly accepted and divided among ourselves.

Those being the early days of the war the German soldier was a universal
favourite among the civilians. Directly one was espied he became a
magnet. The women, girls and elder men rushed forward and wildly thrust
all sorts of comestibles into his hands. Unhappily we did not stop at
many stations; our train displayed a galling preference for lonely
signal posts, so that the chances of our guard receiving many such gifts
were distinctly limited. But at one station he did receive an armful of
broedchen--tiny loaves--which he divided amongst us subsequently with the
greatest camaraderie.

But his comrades in other compartments were not so well-disposed. With
true Prussian fiendishness they refused to permit their prisoners to buy
anything for themselves, and to drive them to exasperation and to make
them feel their position, the guards would ostentatiously devour their
own meals and gifts. While we did not really receive sufficient to stay
us, still our guard did his best for us, an act which we appreciated and
reciprocated by making a collection on his behalf. When we proffered
this slight recognition of his courtesy and sympathetic feeling he
declined to accept it. [*gap] He was one of the very few well-disposed
Germans I ever met.

Upon arriving at Sennelager Station we were unceremoniously bundled out
of the train. Those who had trunks and bags were roughly bidden to
shoulder them and to fall in for the march to the camp. The noon heat
was terrible. The sun poured down unmercifully, and after twelve hours'
confinement in the stuffy railway carriages few could stretch their
limbs. But the military guards set the marching pace and we had to keep
to it. If we lagged