August 19, 2025 • 23 mins
Delve into the gripping true story of M. C. Simmons, a Canadian soldier who found himself at the mercy of the German Army during the tumultuous early days of World War I. This narrative chronicles his harrowing sixteen months as a prisoner of war, detailing his interactions with fellow captives from Allied forces, as well as his insightful observations of his captors and their homeland. Most strikingly, we follow Simmons through his daring escape attempts—each more audacious than the last—his subsequent recaptures and punishments, and the perilous journey through enemy territory that defined his relentless spirit. As McClung notes, Private Simmons is a close and accurate observer who sees clearly and talks well. He tells a straightforward, unadorned tale, every sentence of which is true, and convincing. Prepare to be captivated by a story of resilience and courage.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section fifteen of Three Times and Out by Nellie mc lung.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, Chapter seventeen,
The Cells at Oldenburg. It was on February the third
that we were taken from Venemore to Oldenburg, and when
(00:21):
we started out on the road along the canal, roped
together as before, Ted and I knew we were going
up against the real thing as far as punishment goes,
for we should not have Iguelden and the rest of
the boys to send us things. We came out of
the Vnemore camp with something of a reluctant feeling, for
(00:43):
we knew we were leaving kind friends behind us. Ted
had received the same treatment that I had in the
matter of the blankets and the good soup, thanks to
the friendly guard. It was in the early morning we started,
and as Venemore was almost straight west of Oldenburg, we
had the sun in our faces all the way in.
(01:04):
It was good to be out again and good to
look at something other than board walls. Our road lay
along the canal which connected Venemore with Oldenburg. Peat sheds
where the peat was put to dry after it was cut,
were scattered along the canal, and we passed several flat
bottomed canal boats carrying the peat into Oldenburg. They were
(01:28):
drawn by man power and naturally made slow progress. The
canal furnished a way of transportation for the small farmers
living near it too, whose little farms had been reclaimed
from the bog, and their produce was brought into Oldenburg
on the canal boats. We could see better looking buildings
(01:48):
back farther where the land was more fertile. At one
place we saw a canal boat with sails, but as
the day was still, it lay inactive, fastened to an
iron post. The settlement seemed to be comparatively recent, judging
by the small apple trees around the buildings, and had
looked as if this section of the country had all
(02:11):
been waste land until the canal had been put through.
When we arrived at Oldenburg, which we did early in
the morning, we were marched through its narrow streets to
the military prison. We could see that the modern part
of the city was very well built and up to date,
with fine brick buildings, but the old part, which dates
(02:32):
back to the eleventh century, was dirty and cheerless. The
prison to which we were taken was a military prison
before the war where the German soldiers were punished, and
from the very first we could see that it was
a striking example of German efficiency in the way of punishment.
(02:53):
Nothing was left to chance. We were searched first, and
it was done by removing all our clothing. Then, piece
by piece, the guard looked them over. He ran his
hand under the collar of our shirts. He turned our
pockets inside out. He patted the lining of our coats.
He turned out our stockings and shook them. He looked
(03:16):
into our boots as he finished with each article. It
was thrown over to us and we dressed again. Our caps, overcoats, braces,
belts and knives were taken away from us. They were
careful to see that we should not be tempted to
commit suicide. When I saw my cap go, I wondered
(03:38):
if my maps, which I had sewed in the pasteboard,
would escape this man's hawk eyes. I thought I had
lost my other maps, and wondered how we should ever
replace them. But it would be time enough to think
of that when we got out. The guard's manner was
typical of the management at Oldenburg. It had no element
(04:02):
of humanity in it. It was a triumph of Coulteur.
The men might as well have been dummies, set by
a clock and run by electricity. There was a blackboard
on the wall which told how many prisoners were in
the institution and what they were getting. The strongest and
worst punishment given is called strang arrest, and the number
(04:26):
who were getting it was three. The guard, while we
were there, rubbed out the three and put in a five.
Tad and I looked at each other. That's us, he said.
Our two little parcels were deposited in a locker downstairs,
where other parcels of a like nature were bestowed. And
(04:48):
we were conducted up a broad stair and along a passage,
and saw before us a long hall lined with doors
sheeted with steel. The guard ahead, Ted, and I followed.
At last he unlocked a door, and we knew one
of us had reached his abiding place. I always did
(05:11):
like a stateroom in the middle of the boat, Ted said,
as the guard motioned to him to go in. That
was the last word I heard for some time, for
the guard said not a word to me. He came
into the cell with me and shut the iron door
over the window, excluding every particle of light. I just
(05:34):
had time to see that the cell was a good
size one, as cells go. In one corner there was
a steam coil, but it was stone cold and remained
so all the time I was there. There was a
shelf on which stood the brown earthen pitcher for drinking water,
but nothing else. Our footsteps rang hollow on the cement floor,
(05:58):
which had a damp feeling like a cellar, although it
was above the ground floor. Without a word, the guard
went out and the key turned in the lock with
a click, which had a sound of finality about it
that left no room for argument. Well it has come,
I thought to myself, the real hard German punishment they
(06:23):
had me at last. The other time we had outwitted
them and gained many privileges of which they knew nothing,
and Malvoisin had cheered me through the dark hours. Here
there was no Malvoisin, no reading crack, no friends, nothing
to save us. They had us. We had staked the
(06:47):
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 to break our wills and make us docile,
pliable and weak need like the Russians we had seen
in the camps, poor spiritless fellows who would give no trouble. Well,
(07:13):
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
(07:34):
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.
(07:58):
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
(08:21):
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
(08:41):
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 had geasen,
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
(09:03):
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 Straft barrack did
(09:25):
not seem too bad, for we could see people and
talk occasionally. And after the Straft 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
(09:46):
us in the Straft 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 cramp. 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
(10:08):
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 Ventemore forgot to bring a soup. Sometimes these mechanical
(10:29):
toys may have run down. The power may have gone off,
and the whole works have shut down. Certainly the lights
seemed 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. I tried to keep
myself thinking normally, but the thought would come pushing in
(10:52):
upon me, like a ghostly face at a window, that
the guard had forgotten us. I told myself over and
over again that we had come in at noon, and
this was the first day. It was bound to be long.
I must wait. They had not forgotten us. I knew
(11:15):
exactly what I should look like when they found me.
My hair would be long, falling over my shoulders, and
my beard, not red but white, would be down to
my waist, for people live for weeks on water, and
my nails would be so long they would turn back again,
and my hands would be like claws, with the white
(11:36):
bones showing through the skin, and the knuckles knotted and bruised.
I remembered seeing a cat once that had been forgotten
in a cellar. It had worn its claws off scratching
at the wall. Then a chill seized me, and I
began to shiver. That frightened me. So I made a
(11:57):
bargain with myself. I must not think. I must walk.
Thinking is what sends people crazy. I got up then
and began to pace up and down. Twelve feet each
way was twenty four feet. There were five thousand, two
hundred and eighty feet in a mile, so I would
(12:19):
walk a mile before I stopped. I would walk a mile,
and I would not think. I started off on my
mile walk and held myself to it by force of will,
one hundred and ten rounds. Once I lost the count
and had to go back to where I did remember,
(12:39):
and so it was really more than a mile. But
when it was done and I sat down beyond a
little healthy tingling in my legs, I did not feel
at all different. I was listening, listening, just the same.
Ted and I had agreed that if we were side
by side, we would pound on the wall as a sign.
(13:03):
Four knocks would mean I am all right. I pounded
the wall four times and listened. There was no response.
Then for a minute the horror seized me. Ted was dead.
Every one was dead. I was the only one left.
(13:26):
If the authorities in our prisons could once feel the
horror of the dark cell, when the overwrought nerves bring
in the distorted messages and the whole body rise in
the grip of fear, choking, unreasoning, panicky fear, they would
abolish it forever, after an eternity, it seemed. The key
(13:49):
sounded in the lock, and the guard came in, letting
in a burst of light which made me blink. He
came over to the window, swung open the iron door,
and the cell was light. What time is it? I
asked him in German? He knew his business, this guard,
(14:09):
He answered, not a word. What has a prisoner to
do with time except do it. He handed me a
broom like a stable broom and motioned me to sweep.
It was done all too soon. He then took me
with him along the hall to the lavatory at the
(14:31):
far end of the hall, and coming from the lavatory,
another prisoner was being brought back, with a guard behind him.
His clothes hung loose on him, and he walked slowly.
The light came from the end of the hall facing me,
and I could not see very well. When we drew near,
(14:51):
a cry broke from him. Sim He cried, good God,
I thought you were in holland it was bromly. Then
the guard poked him in the back and sent him
stumbling past me. I turned and called to him, but
my guard pushed me on. I put in as much
(15:14):
time washing as I could, hoping that Tad would be
brought out, but I did not see him that day
or the next. At last, I had to go back,
and as the guard shoved me in again to that
infernal hole of blackness, he gave me a slice of
bread I had filled my pitcher at the tap. This
(15:37):
was my daily ration. The first three days. I was hungry,
but I was not sick, for I had considerable reserve
to call upon. But when the fourth day came, I
was beginning to feel the weariness, which is not exactly
a pain, but is worse than any pain. I did
(15:58):
not want to walk. It tired me, and my limbs
ached as if I had le grip. I soon learned
to make my bread last as long as it would
by eating it in installments, and it required some will
power to do this. Thoughts of food came to torture me.
(16:20):
When I slept, my dreams were all of eating. I
was home again and Mother was frying doughnuts. Then I
was at the harvest home festival in the church and
the downstairs in the basement, there were long tables set
The cold turkey was heaped up on the plates, with
(16:40):
potatoes and corn on the cob. There were rows of
lemon pies, with chocolate cakes and strawberry tarts. I could
hear the dishes rattling and smell the coffee. I sat
down before a plate of turkey and was eating a leg,
all brown and juicy when I awakened. There is a
(17:04):
sense in which hunger sharpens a man's perceptions and makes
him see the truth in a clearer light. But starvation,
the slow gnawing starvation. When the reserve is gone and
every organ, every muscle, every nerve cries out for food,
(17:25):
it is of the devil. The starving man is a
brute with no more moral sense than the gutter cat.
His mind follows the same track. He wants food. Why
do our authorities think they can reform a man by
throwing him into a dark cell and starving him. There
(17:51):
was a hole in the door, wide on the inside
and just big enough on the outside for an eye
where the guards could spy on us. We could not
get a gleam of light through it, though, for it
was covered with a button on the outside. On the
fourth day, I had light in my cell, and it
was aired. Also. I got soup that day and more bread,
(18:15):
and I felt better. I saw ted for a few seconds.
He was very pale, but bearing it well, though the
sunburn was still on his face. The pallor below made
it ghastly, but he walked as straight as ever. I
climbed up to the window by standing on the platform
(18:38):
and could just see over down below. In the courtyard,
soldiers were gathering for roll call, and once I saw
recruits getting their issue of uniforms. Sometimes the courtyard was empty,
but I kept on watching until the soldiers came. At
least they were something and alive. During the light day,
(19:01):
probably as a result of the additional food, I slept
nearly all day. When I awakened, the cell was getting dark.
I have heard people say the sunset is a lonely time,
when fears come out, and apprehensions creep over them, and
all their troubles come trooping home. I wonder what they
(19:24):
would think of a sunset which ushered in eighty four
hours of darkness. I watched the light fading on the wall,
a flickering, sickly glow that paled and faded and died
and left my eyes weakened now by the long darkness,
quite misty and dim. And then the night, the long night,
(19:49):
came down without mercy. On one of my light days,
the guard forgot to bring my soup. He brought the
coffee in the morning and went out again. At once
I thought he had gone for the bread. But when
he did not come, I drank the coffee, which was
hot and comforting. He did not come near me all day.
(20:13):
It may have been the expectation of food, together with
the hot coffee which stimulated my stomach. For that day,
I experienced what starving men dread most of all, the
hunger pain. It is like a famished rat that gnaws
and tears. I writhed on the floor and cried aloud
(20:35):
in my agony, while the cold sweat dripped from my
face and hands. I do not remember what I said.
I do not want to remember. That night, when I
saw the light growing dim in the cell and the
long black night setting in, I began to think that
(20:56):
there was a grave possibility that this sentence might finish me.
I might die under it, and my people would never
know died Prisoner of War number two, three, four four five,
Private M. C. Simmons. That is all they would see
in the casualty list, and it would not cause a
(21:19):
ripple of excitement. Here the guard would go back for
another one and a stretcher. I shouldn't be much of
a carry either. Then I stood up and shook my
fist at the door, including the whole German nation. I
was not going to die. Having settled the question, I
(21:43):
lay down and slept. When I awakened, I knew I
had slept a long time. My tongue was parched and dry,
and my throat felt horribly, but my pain was gone.
I wasn't hungry now, I was just tired. Then I
roused myself. This is starvation, I whispered to myself. This
(22:09):
is the way men die, and that's what I am
not going to do. The sound of my own voice
gave me courage. I then compelled my muscles to do
their work, and stood up and walked up and down.
Though I noticed the wall got in my road. Sometimes
(22:30):
I had a long way to go yet, and I
knew it depended now on my will power. My beard
was long, and my hair tangled and unkempt. I should
have liked to shave and a hair cut, but this
is part of the punishment and has a depressing effect
on the prisoner. It all helps to break a man down.
(22:53):
I kept track of the days by marking on the
wall each day with my finger nail, and so I
knew when the two weeks were drawing to a close.
The expectation of getting out began to cheer me. And
the last night I was not able to sleep much,
for I thought, when the key turned next time, I
(23:14):
should be free. I wondered if we could, by any
chance hear what had happened on the battle front right away.
I began to feel that I was part of the
world again, and a sort of exultation came to me.
They had not broken me. End of Section fifteen.
Section fifteen of Three Times and Out by Nellie mc lung.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, Chapter seventeen,
The Cells at Oldenburg. It was on February the third
that we were taken from Venemore to Oldenburg, and when
(00:21):
we started out on the road along the canal, roped
together as before, Ted and I knew we were going
up against the real thing as far as punishment goes,
for we should not have Iguelden and the rest of
the boys to send us things. We came out of
the Vnemore camp with something of a reluctant feeling, for
(00:43):
we knew we were leaving kind friends behind us. Ted
had received the same treatment that I had in the
matter of the blankets and the good soup, thanks to
the friendly guard. It was in the early morning we started,
and as Venemore was almost straight west of Oldenburg, we
had the sun in our faces all the way in.
(01:04):
It was good to be out again and good to
look at something other than board walls. Our road lay
along the canal which connected Venemore with Oldenburg. Peat sheds
where the peat was put to dry after it was cut,
were scattered along the canal, and we passed several flat
bottomed canal boats carrying the peat into Oldenburg. They were
(01:28):
drawn by man power and naturally made slow progress. The
canal furnished a way of transportation for the small farmers
living near it too, whose little farms had been reclaimed
from the bog, and their produce was brought into Oldenburg
on the canal boats. We could see better looking buildings
(01:48):
back farther where the land was more fertile. At one
place we saw a canal boat with sails, but as
the day was still, it lay inactive, fastened to an
iron post. The settlement seemed to be comparatively recent, judging
by the small apple trees around the buildings, and had
looked as if this section of the country had all
(02:11):
been waste land until the canal had been put through.
When we arrived at Oldenburg, which we did early in
the morning, we were marched through its narrow streets to
the military prison. We could see that the modern part
of the city was very well built and up to date,
with fine brick buildings, but the old part, which dates
(02:32):
back to the eleventh century, was dirty and cheerless. The
prison to which we were taken was a military prison
before the war where the German soldiers were punished, and
from the very first we could see that it was
a striking example of German efficiency in the way of punishment.
(02:53):
Nothing was left to chance. We were searched first, and
it was done by removing all our clothing. Then, piece
by piece, the guard looked them over. He ran his
hand under the collar of our shirts. He turned our
pockets inside out. He patted the lining of our coats.
He turned out our stockings and shook them. He looked
(03:16):
into our boots as he finished with each article. It
was thrown over to us and we dressed again. Our caps, overcoats, braces,
belts and knives were taken away from us. They were
careful to see that we should not be tempted to
commit suicide. When I saw my cap go, I wondered
(03:38):
if my maps, which I had sewed in the pasteboard,
would escape this man's hawk eyes. I thought I had
lost my other maps, and wondered how we should ever
replace them. But it would be time enough to think
of that when we got out. The guard's manner was
typical of the management at Oldenburg. It had no element
(04:02):
of humanity in it. It was a triumph of Coulteur.
The men might as well have been dummies, set by
a clock and run by electricity. There was a blackboard
on the wall which told how many prisoners were in
the institution and what they were getting. The strongest and
worst punishment given is called strang arrest, and the number
(04:26):
who were getting it was three. The guard, while we
were there, rubbed out the three and put in a five.
Tad and I looked at each other. That's us, he said.
Our two little parcels were deposited in a locker downstairs,
where other parcels of a like nature were bestowed. And
(04:48):
we were conducted up a broad stair and along a passage,
and saw before us a long hall lined with doors
sheeted with steel. The guard ahead, Ted, and I followed.
At last he unlocked a door, and we knew one
of us had reached his abiding place. I always did
(05:11):
like a stateroom in the middle of the boat, Ted said,
as the guard motioned to him to go in. That
was the last word I heard for some time, for
the guard said not a word to me. He came
into the cell with me and shut the iron door
over the window, excluding every particle of light. I just
(05:34):
had time to see that the cell was a good
size one, as cells go. In one corner there was
a steam coil, but it was stone cold and remained
so all the time I was there. There was a
shelf on which stood the brown earthen pitcher for drinking water,
but nothing else. Our footsteps rang hollow on the cement floor,
(05:58):
which had a damp feeling like a cellar, although it
was above the ground floor. Without a word, the guard
went out and the key turned in the lock with
a click, which had a sound of finality about it
that left no room for argument. Well it has come,
I thought to myself, the real hard German punishment they
(06:23):
had me at last. The other time we had outwitted
them and gained many privileges of which they knew nothing,
and Malvoisin had cheered me through the dark hours. Here
there was no Malvoisin, no reading crack, no friends, nothing
to save us. They had us. We had staked the
(06:47):
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 to break our wills and make us docile,
pliable and weak need like the Russians we had seen
in the camps, poor spiritless fellows who would give no trouble. Well,
(07:13):
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
(07:34):
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.
(07:58):
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
(08:21):
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
(08:41):
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 had geasen,
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
(09:03):
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 Straft barrack did
(09:25):
not seem too bad, for we could see people and
talk occasionally. And after the Straft 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
(09:46):
us in the Straft 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 cramp. 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
(10:08):
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 Ventemore forgot to bring a soup. Sometimes these mechanical
(10:29):
toys may have run down. The power may have gone off,
and the whole works have shut down. Certainly the lights
seemed 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. I tried to keep
myself thinking normally, but the thought would come pushing in
(10:52):
upon me, like a ghostly face at a window, that
the guard had forgotten us. I told myself over and
over again that we had come in at noon, and
this was the first day. It was bound to be long.
I must wait. They had not forgotten us. I knew
(11:15):
exactly what I should look like when they found me.
My hair would be long, falling over my shoulders, and
my beard, not red but white, would be down to
my waist, for people live for weeks on water, and
my nails would be so long they would turn back again,
and my hands would be like claws, with the white
(11:36):
bones showing through the skin, and the knuckles knotted and bruised.
I remembered seeing a cat once that had been forgotten
in a cellar. It had worn its claws off scratching
at the wall. Then a chill seized me, and I
began to shiver. That frightened me. So I made a
(11:57):
bargain with myself. I must not think. I must walk.
Thinking is what sends people crazy. I got up then
and began to pace up and down. Twelve feet each
way was twenty four feet. There were five thousand, two
hundred and eighty feet in a mile, so I would
(12:19):
walk a mile before I stopped. I would walk a mile,
and I would not think. I started off on my
mile walk and held myself to it by force of will,
one hundred and ten rounds. Once I lost the count
and had to go back to where I did remember,
(12:39):
and so it was really more than a mile. But
when it was done and I sat down beyond a
little healthy tingling in my legs, I did not feel
at all different. I was listening, listening, just the same.
Ted and I had agreed that if we were side
by side, we would pound on the wall as a sign.
(13:03):
Four knocks would mean I am all right. I pounded
the wall four times and listened. There was no response.
Then for a minute the horror seized me. Ted was dead.
Every one was dead. I was the only one left.
(13:26):
If the authorities in our prisons could once feel the
horror of the dark cell, when the overwrought nerves bring
in the distorted messages and the whole body rise in
the grip of fear, choking, unreasoning, panicky fear, they would
abolish it forever, after an eternity, it seemed. The key
(13:49):
sounded in the lock, and the guard came in, letting
in a burst of light which made me blink. He
came over to the window, swung open the iron door,
and the cell was light. What time is it? I
asked him in German? He knew his business, this guard,
(14:09):
He answered, not a word. What has a prisoner to
do with time except do it. He handed me a
broom like a stable broom and motioned me to sweep.
It was done all too soon. He then took me
with him along the hall to the lavatory at the
(14:31):
far end of the hall, and coming from the lavatory,
another prisoner was being brought back, with a guard behind him.
His clothes hung loose on him, and he walked slowly.
The light came from the end of the hall facing me,
and I could not see very well. When we drew near,
(14:51):
a cry broke from him. Sim He cried, good God,
I thought you were in holland it was bromly. Then
the guard poked him in the back and sent him
stumbling past me. I turned and called to him, but
my guard pushed me on. I put in as much
(15:14):
time washing as I could, hoping that Tad would be
brought out, but I did not see him that day
or the next. At last, I had to go back,
and as the guard shoved me in again to that
infernal hole of blackness, he gave me a slice of
bread I had filled my pitcher at the tap. This
(15:37):
was my daily ration. The first three days. I was hungry,
but I was not sick, for I had considerable reserve
to call upon. But when the fourth day came, I
was beginning to feel the weariness, which is not exactly
a pain, but is worse than any pain. I did
(15:58):
not want to walk. It tired me, and my limbs
ached as if I had le grip. I soon learned
to make my bread last as long as it would
by eating it in installments, and it required some will
power to do this. Thoughts of food came to torture me.
(16:20):
When I slept, my dreams were all of eating. I
was home again and Mother was frying doughnuts. Then I
was at the harvest home festival in the church and
the downstairs in the basement, there were long tables set
The cold turkey was heaped up on the plates, with
(16:40):
potatoes and corn on the cob. There were rows of
lemon pies, with chocolate cakes and strawberry tarts. I could
hear the dishes rattling and smell the coffee. I sat
down before a plate of turkey and was eating a leg,
all brown and juicy when I awakened. There is a
(17:04):
sense in which hunger sharpens a man's perceptions and makes
him see the truth in a clearer light. But starvation,
the slow gnawing starvation. When the reserve is gone and
every organ, every muscle, every nerve cries out for food,
(17:25):
it is of the devil. The starving man is a
brute with no more moral sense than the gutter cat.
His mind follows the same track. He wants food. Why
do our authorities think they can reform a man by
throwing him into a dark cell and starving him. There
(17:51):
was a hole in the door, wide on the inside
and just big enough on the outside for an eye
where the guards could spy on us. We could not
get a gleam of light through it, though, for it
was covered with a button on the outside. On the
fourth day, I had light in my cell, and it
was aired. Also. I got soup that day and more bread,
(18:15):
and I felt better. I saw ted for a few seconds.
He was very pale, but bearing it well, though the
sunburn was still on his face. The pallor below made
it ghastly, but he walked as straight as ever. I
climbed up to the window by standing on the platform
(18:38):
and could just see over down below. In the courtyard,
soldiers were gathering for roll call, and once I saw
recruits getting their issue of uniforms. Sometimes the courtyard was empty,
but I kept on watching until the soldiers came. At
least they were something and alive. During the light day,
(19:01):
probably as a result of the additional food, I slept
nearly all day. When I awakened, the cell was getting dark.
I have heard people say the sunset is a lonely time,
when fears come out, and apprehensions creep over them, and
all their troubles come trooping home. I wonder what they
(19:24):
would think of a sunset which ushered in eighty four
hours of darkness. I watched the light fading on the wall,
a flickering, sickly glow that paled and faded and died
and left my eyes weakened now by the long darkness,
quite misty and dim. And then the night, the long night,
(19:49):
came down without mercy. On one of my light days,
the guard forgot to bring my soup. He brought the
coffee in the morning and went out again. At once
I thought he had gone for the bread. But when
he did not come, I drank the coffee, which was
hot and comforting. He did not come near me all day.
(20:13):
It may have been the expectation of food, together with
the hot coffee which stimulated my stomach. For that day,
I experienced what starving men dread most of all, the
hunger pain. It is like a famished rat that gnaws
and tears. I writhed on the floor and cried aloud
(20:35):
in my agony, while the cold sweat dripped from my
face and hands. I do not remember what I said.
I do not want to remember. That night, when I
saw the light growing dim in the cell and the
long black night setting in, I began to think that
(20:56):
there was a grave possibility that this sentence might finish me.
I might die under it, and my people would never
know died Prisoner of War number two, three, four four five,
Private M. C. Simmons. That is all they would see
in the casualty list, and it would not cause a
(21:19):
ripple of excitement. Here the guard would go back for
another one and a stretcher. I shouldn't be much of
a carry either. Then I stood up and shook my
fist at the door, including the whole German nation. I
was not going to die. Having settled the question, I
(21:43):
lay down and slept. When I awakened, I knew I
had slept a long time. My tongue was parched and dry,
and my throat felt horribly, but my pain was gone.
I wasn't hungry now, I was just tired. Then I
roused myself. This is starvation, I whispered to myself. This
(22:09):
is the way men die, and that's what I am
not going to do. The sound of my own voice
gave me courage. I then compelled my muscles to do
their work, and stood up and walked up and down.
Though I noticed the wall got in my road. Sometimes
(22:30):
I had a long way to go yet, and I
knew it depended now on my will power. My beard
was long, and my hair tangled and unkempt. I should
have liked to shave and a hair cut, but this
is part of the punishment and has a depressing effect
on the prisoner. It all helps to break a man down.
(22:53):
I kept track of the days by marking on the
wall each day with my finger nail, and so I
knew when the two weeks were drawing to a close.
The expectation of getting out began to cheer me. And
the last night I was not able to sleep much,
for I thought, when the key turned next time, I
(23:14):
should be free. I wondered if we could, by any
chance hear what had happened on the battle front right away.
I began to feel that I was part of the
world again, and a sort of exultation came to me.
They had not broken me. End of Section fifteen.
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