On the first morning, when we were taken to the lavatory, we saw some of the boys.  They were very sorry to know we had been caught, and told us Bromley had been sent to Oldenburg a few days before, for his punishment.  They also told us that the night we escaped, no alarm had been given, although the guards may have noticed the hanging wires.  Several of the boys had had the notion to go when they saw the wires down, but they were afraid of being caught.  The general opinion was that the guards knew we had gone, but did not give the alarm until morning, because they had no desire to cross the bog at night.

Our method of getting stuff to the cell was simple.  I wore my own overcoat to the lavatory, and hung it up inside.  When I went to get it, I found another coat was hanging beside it, which I put on and wore back to the cell.  In the pocket of the “other coat” I found things—­bread, cheese, sardines, biscuits, and books.  The next day I wore the other coat, and got my own, and found its pockets equally well supplied.  It was a fellow called Iguellden, whose coat I had on alternate days.  He watched for me, and timed his visit to the lavatory to suit me.  Of course, the other boys helped him with the contributions.  Edwards was equally well supplied.  In the prison-camp the word “friend” has an active and positive quality in it which it sometimes lacks in normal times.

On the second night in the cell I suffered from the cold, for it was a very frosty night, and as the cells were not heated at all, they were quite as cold as outside.

I was stamping up and down, with my overcoat buttoned up to the neck and my hands in my pockets, trying to keep warm, when the new guard came on at seven o’clock.  He shouted something at me, which I did not understand, but I kept on walking.  Then he pounded on the wall with the butt of his rifle, crying, “Schlafen! schlafen!”

To which I replied, “Nix schlafen!” (I can’t sleep!)

I then heard the key turn in the door, and I did not know what might be coming.

When he came in, he blew his breath in the frosty air, and asked, “Kalt?”

I did not think he needed to take my evidence—­it certainly was “kalt.”

Then he muttered something which I did not understand, and went out, returning about twenty minutes later with a blanket which he had taken from one of the empty beds in the Revier.  I knew he was running a grave risk in doing this, for it is a serious offense for a guard to show kindness to a prisoner, and I thanked him warmly.  He told me he would have to take it away again in the morning when he came on guard again, and I knew he did not want any of the other guards to see it.  My word of thanks he cut short by saying, “Bitte! bitte!  Ich thue es gerne” (I do it gladly); and his manner indicated that his only regret was that he could not do more.