They had us!

We had staked the little bit of freedom we had on the chance of getting full freedom.  It was a long chance, but we had taken it—­and lost!

I knew the object of all their punishment was to break our wills and make us docile, pliable, and week-kneed like the Russians we had seen in the camps—­poor, spiritless fellows who could give no trouble.

Well—­we would show them they could not break ours!

* * *

The eight-mile walk had tired me, and I lay down on the platform to try to sleep, but it was a long time before I could close my eyes:  the darkness was so heavy, so choking and horrible.  If there had been even one gleam of light it wouldn’t have been so bad, but I couldn’t even see a gleam under the door, and every time I tried to sleep the silence bothered me—­if I could only hear one sound, to tell me some one was alive and stirring about!  Still, I kept telling myself, I must put it in, some way—­I must—­I must—­I must.

* * *

When I awakened, my first thought was that it was still night!  Then I remembered it was all night for me, and the thought set me shivering.  My hands were stiff and cold, and I missed my overcoat.

The waking-up was the worst time of all, for my teeth chattered and my knees trembled, so it was hard to stand.  But when I had stamped up and down for a while, I felt better.  It must be near morning, I thought.  I should know when it was morning, because the guard would come and let me have ten minutes to sweep my cell, and then I should see Ted.  I should perhaps get a chance to speak to him—­even a wink would help!

It was a larger cell than the one at Giessen, and after sitting still for a while I got up and walked up and down.  I could take four steps each way, by not stepping too far.  My steps echoed on the cement floor, and I quite enjoyed seeing how much noise I could make, and wondered if anybody heard me.  But when I stopped and leaned up against the wall, I could hear nothing.  Then I sat down again and waited.

I remembered how, after the cells, the Strafe-Barrack did not seem too bad, for we could see people and talk occasionally; and after the Strafe-Barrack the prison-camp was comparative freedom, for we could get our parcels and read, and see the boys, so I thought I will pretend now that my punishment was sitting still....  I can’t move a muscle; the cut-throat guard that was over us in the Strafe-Barrack is standing over me with his bayonet against my chest—­I must not move—­or he’ll drive it in....  I wish I could change my position—­my neck is cramped....

Then I jumped up and walked up and down, and tried to tell myself it was good to be able to move!  But I caught myself listening all the time—­listening for the guard to come and open the door!

* * *

It seemed a whole day since we came, and still there was no sound at the door.  The guard must have forgotten us, I thought....  The guards at Vehnemoor forgot to bring us soup sometimes....  These mechanical toys may have run down; the power may have gone off, and the whole works have shut down.  Certainly the lights seem to have gone out.  I laughed at that.  Well, I would try to sleep again; that was the best way to get the time in.