The
N.C.O. was waiting for them. The trouble had evidently been reported
to Headquarters, and the orders had come back. The Commandant was
there, to see that the orders were carried out.

In a few minutes the N.C.O. started the Russians to run up and
down the space in front of the huts. We watched the performance in
amazement. The men ran, with dragging footsteps, tired with their
long tramp and their long day's work, but when their speed slackened,
the N.C.O. threatened them with his bayonet.

For an hour they ran with never a minute's breathing-spell, sweating,
puffing, lurching in their gait, and still the merciless order was
"Marsch!" "Marsch!" and the three men went struggling on.

When the darkness came, they were allowed to stop, but they were so
exhausted they had to be helped to bed by their friends.

We did not realize that we had been witnessing the first act in the
most brutal punishment that a human mind could devise, and, thinking
that the trouble was over, we went to sleep, indignant at what we had
seen.

In the morning, before any of us were awake, and about a quarter of
an hour before the time to get up, a commotion started in our hut.
German soldiers, dozens of them, came in, shouting to everybody to
get up, and dragging the Russians out of bed. I was sleeping in an
upper berth, but the first shout awakened me, and when I looked down
I could see the soldiers flourishing their bayonets and threatening
everybody. The Russians were scurrying out like scared rabbits, but
the British, not so easily intimidated, were asking, "What's the
row?"

One of the British, Walter Hurcum, was struck by a bayonet in the
face, cutting a deep gash across his cheek and the lower part of his
ear. Tom Morgan dodged a bayonet thrust by jumping behind the stove,
and escaped without injury.

When I looked down, I caught the eyes of one of our guards, a decent
old chap, of much the same type as Sank, and his eyes were full of
misery and humiliation, but he was powerless to prevent the outbreak
of frightfulness.

I dressed myself in my berth--the space below was too full already,
and I thought I could face it better with my clothes on. When I got
down, the hut was nearly empty, but a Gordon Highlander who went out
of the door a few feet ahead of me was slashed at by one of the
N.C.O.'s and jumped out of the way just in time.

All this was preliminary to roll-call, when we were all lined up
to answer to our names. Tha