There was a big cauldron with boiling water.  Alongside was a table on which the cabbages were cut up.  A handful of cabbage was picked up and dumped into the cauldron.  Directly it hit the water the cabbage was considered to be cooked and was served out.  Consequently the meal comprised merely a basin of sloshy boiling water in which floated some shreds of uncooked red cabbage.  Sometimes the first batch of men succeeded in finding the cabbage warmed through:  it had been left in the water for a few seconds.  But the last batch invariably fared badly.  The cooks realising that there would be insufficient to go round forthwith dumped in two or three buckets of cold water to eke it out.  Sometimes, but on very rare occasions, a little potato, and perhaps a bone which had once been associated with meat, would be found in the basin lurking under a piece of cabbage leaf.  Ultimately some French and Belgians were put in charge of the kitchen.  Then there was a slight improvement.  The cabbage was generally well-cooked and the soup was hot.  But although these cooks did their best, it did not amount to much, for the simple reason that the authorities would not permit any further ingredients whatever.

At 2.0 p.m., there was another parade, followed by a return to work which was continued without intermission for another four hours.  At six in the evening we returned to barracks for a third parade after which we were dismissed for tea.  This was another far from appetising meal, merely constituting a repetition of the breakfast ration—­a basin of lukewarm acorn coffee without milk or sugar.  In addition to the foregoing we were served with a portion of a loaf of black bread on alternate mornings.  This supply, if you got it, had to last six meals.

It will be realised that our wardens were far from being disposed to feed us up.  We grumbled against the rations, their monotony and insufficiency, but we received no amelioration of our condition.  In fact, our petitions were ignored.  We were told that if we wanted more or greater variety of food we must buy it from the canteen.  We had to act upon this recommendation just to keep ourselves alive.

The canteen was run by the most unprincipled scoundrel I have ever met.  He was a civilian speculator who saw the chance to fatten on the British prisoners.  He fleeced us in two ways.  Not only were his prices extortionate, but he gave a ridiculous exchange for British currency, especially gold.  After considerable persuasion and deliberation he would change a half sovereign for 7-1/2 marks—­7s. 6d.  We complained but could get no redress for such a depreciation.  Other coins were in proportion.