no water at all was brought us. For food
we were chiefly dependent on the charity of people at the wayside
stations who came with gifts intended for German wounded; some of
those took pity on us.

At last, sahib, when we were cold and stiff and miserable to the
very verge of death, we came to a little place called Oeschersleben,
and there the cruelty came to an unexpected end. We were ordered out
of the trucks and met on the platform by a German, not in uniform,
who showed distress at our predicament and who hastened to assure us
in our own tongue that henceforward there would be amends made.

If that man had taken charge of us in the beginning we might not
have been suspicious of him, for he seemed gentle and his words were
fair; but now his kindness came too late to have effect. Animals can
sometimes be rendered tame by starvation and brutality followed by
plenty and kindness, but not men, and particularly not Sikhs--it
being no part of our Guru's teaching that either full belly or
tutored intellect can compensate for lack of goodness. Neither is it
his teaching, on the other hand, that a man must wear thoughts on
his face; so we did not reject this man's advances.

"There have been mistakes made," said he, "by ignorant common
soldiers who knew no better. You shall recuperate on good food, and
then we shall see what we shall see."

I asked him where Ranjoor Singh was, but he did not answer me.

We were not compelled to walk. Few of us could have walked. We were
stiff from confinement and sick from neglect. Carts drawn by oxen
stood near the station, and into those we were crowded and driven to
a camp on the outskirts of the town. There comfortable wooden huts
were ready, well warmed and clean--and a hot meal--and much hot
water in which we were allowed to bathe.

Then, when we had eaten, doctors came and examined us. New clothes
were given us--German uniforms of khaki, and khaki cotton cloth from
which to bind new turbans. Nothing was left undone to make us feel
well received, except that a barbed-wire fence was all about the
camp and armed guards marched up and down outside.

Being senior surviving non-commissioned officer, I was put in charge
of the camp in a certain manner, with many restrictions to my
authority, and for about a week we did nothing but rest and eat and
keep the camp tidy. All day long Germans, mostly women and children
but some men, came to stare at us through the barbed-wire fence as
if w