It was about two weeks after I had been passed by the Swiss Commission that a German non-commissioned officer came to my room, and told me that I was to leave at 4 A.M. the next morning for England.
I had waited for this moment for three long months; I had no occupation of any kind, and spent most of my time lying on my bed or sitting on an uncomfortable chair before the fire, in hourly expectation of the door opening to tell me of my freedom.
Permission had been granted me to take Cotton with me to the border, so we packed all the food we had in stock and prepared for the journey. After travelling for some hours, we arrived at Hameln camp, where we were to stay the night. There was no accommodation for officers in the camp, and they apparently did not know what to do with me, or how to provide me with food, as they had never been called upon before to take charge of an officer.
The only spare hut was some distance down the road, but as this was outside the camp, a special guard had to be mounted outside my door. The question of feeding me was evidently found to be rather a perplexing one, and a German N.C.O., who could speak English, came to see me about it.
"You do not get the same rations at Osnabruck as private soldiers? No?"
I saw an opportunity and took it.
"No, special food is always provided for officers."
"What do you usually get?"
"Meat, vegetables, pudding or fruit, and coffee."
"Zo! But how much do you get? Do you get all that?"