But we managed to make good use of this paper.  I got one of the attendants, Ivan, a good-natured, flat-footed Russian, to bring me a pair of scissors, and the boy in the cot next to mine had a stub of pencil, and between us we made a deck of cards out of the white spaces of the paper, and then we played solitaire, time about, on our quilts.

* * *

I got my first parcel about the end of May, from a Mrs. Andrews whose son I knew in Trail and who had entertained me while I was in London.  I had sent a card to her as soon as I was taken.  The box was like a visit from Santa Claus.  I remember the “Digestive Biscuits,” and how good they tasted after being for a month on the horrible diet of acorn coffee, black bread, and the soup which no word that is fit for publication could describe.

I also received a card from my sister, Mrs. Meredith, of Edmonton, about this time.  I was listed “Missing” on April 29th, and she sent a card addressed to me with “Canadian Prisoner of War, Germany,” on it, on the chance that I was a prisoner.  We were allowed to write a card once a week and two letters a month; and we paid for these.  My people in Canada heard from me on June 9th.

* * *

I cannot complain of the treatment I received in the lazaret.  The doctor took a professional interest in me, and one day brought in two other doctors, and proudly exhibited how well I could move my arm.  However, I still think if he had massaged my upper arm, it would be of more use to me now than it is.

Chloroform was not used in this hospital; at least I never saw any of it.  One young Englishman, who had a bullet in his thigh, cried out in pain when the surgeon was probing for it.  The German doctor sarcastically remarked, “Oh, I thought the English were brave.”

To which the young fellow, lifting his tortured face, proudly answered, “The English are brave—­and merciful—­and they use chloroform for painful operations, and do this for the German prisoners, too.”

But there was no chloroform used for him, though the operation was a horrible one.

There was another young English boy named Jellis, who came in after the fight of May 8th, who seemed to be in great pain the first few days.  Then suddenly he became quiet, and we hoped his pain had lessened; but we soon found out he had lock-jaw, and in a few days he died.

* * *

From the pasteboard box in which my first parcel came, I made a checker-board, and my next-door neighbor and I had many a game.

In about three weeks I was allowed to go out in the afternoons, and I walked all I could in the narrow space, to try to get back all my strength, for one great hope sustained me—­I would make a dash for liberty the first chance I got, and I knew that the better I felt, the better my chances would be.  I still had my compass, and I guarded it carefully.  Everything of this nature was supposed to be taken from us at the lazaret, but I managed, through the carelessness of the guard, to retain the compass.