“After blazing out on me, he left, cursing in German. I made up my mind that I was doomed, but decided to lie as long as I could on my cot, as I felt that I would no doubt be shot as soon as I was able to get out of bed. That night a big masculine-looking nurse came on duty, and she was a perfect virago.
“I learned with deep regret that the kind nurse was moved—perhaps shot. I watched my chance, and at night, when no one had eyes on me, I twisted in such a fashion that my thigh bones could not possibly get a chance to knit together. The agony I suffered was fearful, but I did not care. In the morning my temperature would go up and further operations would follow. I continued doing this for a week or so but at last I could not stand it. I just had to lie still.
“In December I began to get up for a few hours daily. It was torture to me when I tried to move around. I was so very weak and all the-muscle and flesh had left my body. I was reduced to almost skin and bone.
“I was not even given a stick to support me. I limped about for a few weeks, then received my uniform and was moved to the prisoners’ enclosure, where there were one thousand British prisoners. Like myself, none of these fellows was allowed to write home, and I don’t suppose they will be—until they are set free. We were crowded into tents. The food was terrible; I have seen pigs get better. But we ate it just the same.
“The next morning after breakfast, we were all marched out to make roads, chop wood, and do all kinds of convict work. Some of the men had a leg off, others had an arm off as well as being otherwise crippled; but they all had to work.
“I wasn’t able to keep up with the rest while marching out to the place where I was to work and one of the German guards started poking the butt of his rifle into my ribs. This was his way of making me keep up with the rest of them. I tried hard and finally managed to reach the spot where our men were working. I was given wood to saw.
“I managed to stick to it about half an hour, then I fainted. When I came to myself again a big dirty Prussian was kicking me and telling me to get on with my work. But I couldn’t. Upon seeing this, a man from our squad was ordered to wheel me back to camp in a barrow with a German walking alongside with his rifle slung over his shoulder, smoking a long pipe and jeering all the way. I was at once classed as ‘worthless.’
“Our officers had to work like the other men, but the special job given them was road-sweeping. I was given some dirty work to do around the prison camp for a few days, until at last I had to be put in the hospital again on account of weakness. One of my legs was shorter than the other, owing to the manner in which they had practised on me.
“This time I was in the hospital only about two weeks. Then I got my clothes, and the commandant came in and informed me that he got orders to supply six worthless English prisoners from the camp for exchange. ‘You are the first on the list,’ he said. ‘You are no good to anybody. You cannot even work for the food you get.’
“I could hardly realize my good fortune. I wept with joy. To think of being sent home as an exchanged prisoner!