Whether it is my natural disposition or ancestral blood I do not know, but it has ever been my practice in life to emulate Mark Tapley and to see the humorous aspect of the most depressing situation.  The “luxurious hotel,” to which we were consigned according “to the best and most noble traditions of German honour,” moved me to unrestrained mirth, when once I had taken in our surroundings.  My levity fell like a cold water douche upon my companions, while the guards frowned menacingly.  But to me it was impossible to refrain from an outburst of merriment.  It was quite in accordance with German promises, which are composed of the two ingredients—­uncompromising bluff and unabashed deliberate lying, leavened with a sprinkling of disarming suavity.  I had tasted this characteristic at Wesel and frankly was not a bit surprised at anything which loomed up, always resolving at all hazards to make the best of an uncomfortable position.

Upon turning into our unattractive suite our first proceeding was to elect a Captain of our barrack.  Selection fell upon Mr. K——­, as he was an ideal intermediary, being fluent in the language.  We turned in, the majority being too tired to growl at their lot, but there was precious little sleep.  During the day, the heat at Sennelager in the summer is intolerable, but during the night it is freezing.  Our arrival not having been anticipated, we had nothing with which to keep ourselves warm.  A few days passed before the luxury of a blanket was bestowed upon us.

The morning after our arrival we drew up an imposing list of complaints for which we demanded immediate redress.  We also expressed in detail our requirements, which we requested to be fulfilled forthwith.  Then we decided to apportion this part of the camp for cricket, that for general recreation and so forth.  By the time we had completed our intentions, all of which were carried unanimously, several sheets of foolscap had been filled, or rather would have been filled had we been possessed of any paper.  This duty completed we set out upon an exploring expedition, intending to inspect all corners of the camp.  But if we thought we were going to wander whither we pleased we were soon disillusioned.  We were huddled in one corner and our boundaries, although undefined in the concrete were substantial in the abstract, being imaginary lines run between sentries standing with loaded rifles and fixed bayonets.

One and all wondered how we should be able to pass away the time.  We could neither write nor read owing to a complete lack of facilities.  Idleness would surely drive us crazy.  Our recreations were severely limited, depending upon our own ingenuity.  For the first few days we could do nothing beyond promenading, discussing the war and our situation.  These two subjects were speedily worn thread-bare since we knew nothing about the first topic and were only able to speculate vaguely about the second.  The idea of being made to work never entered our heads for a moment.  Were we not civilian prisoners of war:  the victims of circumstances under the shield of the best traditions of German honour?