When the post had been planted the wire-pulling gang came along. The wire used for the purpose was galvanised netting such as is used to enclose chicken runs, game preserves, and tennis grounds, reinforced by one or two equidistantly spaced lines of ordinary wire. It had to be stretched taut by hand and moving the heavy roll by manual effort and uncoiling it as we advanced, demanded not only strength but dexterity. At each post the wire was attached by the aid of a few staples.
Although we laboured zealously the task proved far more formidable than we had anticipated. The fence was 7 feet in height, while I should think that from 600 to 800 yards had to be run. The netting only enclosed three sides of the desired space, the fourth side being fenced in by a belt of trees. In order to get the work done on time and to avoid being compelled to toil on Sundays, we had to labour long and hard. We started shortly after six in the morning, but it was often about half-past six in the evening before we knocked off for the day. We took a strange and inexplicable pride in the enterprise. The fence was not built upon the typical shoddy German lines, but strictly in accordance with substantial British ideas. I may mention that we had good reason to regret this display of zeal and excellent workmanship at a later date.
Seeing that the evening was well advanced before we ceased work we had little time for relaxation. When we stowed our tools for the day we were dog-tired and were hustled into barracks. It was work and sleep in deadly earnest, but we were mighty glad we succeeded in avoiding the threatened Sunday labour, because this was the only day we could devote to our own duties such as mending and washing clothes.
While we were pushing ahead with this task we discussed its coming purposes very animatedly. But none of the guards appeared to have the slightest inkling of its projected application. However, this was immaterial to us. A loud cheer of triumph went up when we had hung the gates, which we had also fashioned at great effort, and the duty was completed. We were beside ourselves with self-satisfaction and delight because we had shown the implacable Major Bach what we Britishers could do when we made up our minds to tackle anything. I very much doubt whether even an equal number of skilled workmen would have completed the fence within the stipulated time, and we for the most part were quite foreign to the trades involved.
When we first entered the camp we were provided with a tolerably satisfactory area of adjacent space in which to exercise ourselves. But as additional prisoners came in this limb-stretching promenade became gradually reduced until at last it was no more than a suburban chicken run in area, being just as long as our barrack by one-half the space between the two rows of buildings. These cramped quarters rather exasperated us because we were denied the pleasure of a little stroll. The exercise yard was also invariably obstructed by clothes hanging on the lines to dry or to air, the result being that within a very short time the British section of Sennelager Camp became vividly reminiscent of a slum in the densely populated districts off the Mile End Road.
The speedy completion of the "big fence" unfortunately set a bad precedent. Major Bach, flushed with the success of his first speeding-up tactics, grew more and more inexorable in this connection. For every job a rigid time-limit was now set, and he did not hesitate to reduce the period to an almost impossible point. The cause was perfectly obvious. He concluded that by setting us an absolutely impossible, though apparently reasonable, enterprise, he would secure the opportunity for which he was so sedulously waiting—to mete us out some new punishment. But somehow or other we always contrived to cheat him in his nefarious designs.
During this period our guard was changed frequently. Men would be withdrawn to make up the losses incurred upon the battlefield. Thus we were brought into contact with the various types of Germans which constitute the Teutonic Empire. Some were certainly not ill-disposed towards us. They mounted guard over us according to their own interpretation of this essential duty. But others slavishly followed the rigid instructions which were laid down, notably the Prussian guards, who were about the most brutal and despicable blackguards it is possible for the whole of Germany to have produced to mount watch and ward over us. One set of guards was withdrawn to bring a Westphalian regiment to fighting strength and proceeded to the front. Afterwards we learned that every man had been lost—killed, wounded or missing.
The severe mauling which the German armies were receiving—we knew nothing about it at the time—undoubtedly was partly responsible for the harsh treatment extended to us. Unable to smash the "contemptible little army," which was certainly proving capable of looking after itself, vengeance was visited upon our defenceless heads.
One day a huge crowd of prisoners was brought in. Whether the Commandant had been advised of their coming or not I am unable to say. But one incontrovertible fact remains—he failed utterly to make any food arrangements to meet the increase in the camp's population. The prisoners reached the camp in the usual famishing condition and were given a small ration. But they were satisfied partially at our expense. The remaining food was only adequate to give us one-half of our usual small dole, and we had to rest content therewith. The canteen being closed we could not make up the deficiency even at our own expense.
My health was now giving way, as a result of my privations in Wesel prison, accentuated by the indifferent and insufficient food and hard work at Sennelager. I was assigned to various light duties. One of these brought me into the cook-house, where I was ordered to cut up the black bread—one brick loaf into five equal pieces, each of which had to last a man through six meals. I was either unfitted for kitchen work or else my presence was resented. At all events I soon realised that my first day in the cook-house would undoubtedly be my last. I had to serve out the bread, and ostensibly, either from lack of experience or nervousness, I bungled my task. The men had to go by the boiler in single file, passing on to the table to receive the bread, where serving was carried out so dexterously that the moving line never paused—until it got to my table. But there was method in my bungling. I was zealously striving to double the bread ration to the British prisoners. Consequently the pieces of bread persisted in tumbling to the ground, thereby hindering and upsetting the steady progress and rhythm of serving. But each man as he stooped to recover a fallen piece received a second hunk surreptitiously, as was my direct intention. However, unfortunately for me, the bread did not go far enough, the outcome being an outburst of further trouble. As I had expected, my room was preferred to my company in that kitchen and I was deposed.