My grief knew no bounds when, sent to the cellars, I found myself carrying
out the body of my fellow worker, the student. I felt faint from sorrow
and, not having anywhere to sit down, leant on my spade. This, however,
didn’t go unnoticed and our guards didn’t like it. They started to beat me and
[5] as punishment ordered me to bury my fellow sufferer even quicker. We
were also subjected to punitive gymnastics, such as falling down and standing
up, and similar tricks.
Beyond doubt, my turn to be shot would also have come, but luckily the
guard changed and the new guards ordered us to be taken back to prison.
However, far fewer men returned than had come. On the way, I asked the soldier
taking us back for permission to buy something to eat, because I had not
eaten for two days. He did not allow it and instead drove us on even faster.
In the prison courtyard I asked another soldier to let us drink some water and
wash at the pump, because I felt the need to wash the bloody work from my
body. But, apparently, each of our guards was afraid that his colleagues would
suspect him of pitying us, and pretended to be sterner and harsher than he
actually was. And so the soldier just shouted at us. Later, however, the same
guard came to our cell with a bucket of clean drinking water and a quart pot,
and asked whether anyone wanted to wash.
Seeing that this guard was showing humane feelings towards us, I asked
him about something to eat. At first, apparently afraid that someone might
have heard, he shouted at me and left. In a short while, however, he came back
and told me to follow him to an empty cell. I thought he intended to punish
me for my impudence, for having had the gall to bother him with requests
several times, so I started to beg him to forgive me and leave me in the common
cell. He nevertheless [6] ordered me imperatively to go with him to the
empty cell. There he told me to go to a corner and pick up what was lying on
the ground. Having no choice, I did as he said, and it turned out that there
were pieces of bread lying there, left over from the aid operation which the
NSV[?] had carried out in the town for the Christian population. I took as
much of the stale bread as possible and brought it to our cell. There it was cut
into small portions, and some was saved even for those who failed to come
back from work that evening and certainly never did.
Not long afterwards our guard came running into our cell and grabbed
the bucket of water, which we assumed meant that his bosses were on their
way. And so it was. An officer arrived at once, accompanied by other military
