rant winter garden affair, five minutes after our arrival, I was
delighted to hear several small gramophones already playing
"Bric-a-brac" and other selections from musical comedies, each
insisting that its was the only tune worth listening to. Owing to the
conditions escape was out of the question; the Germans did not
therefore worry much--in fact, coming up in the train a rather nice
N.C.O. at last yielded to my entreaties and sang a verse of the Hymn
of Hate, accompanying himself on my mandoline.

After standing two hours in a queue at the bar I managed to procure
some quite good wine which made us feel almost at home. For the rest
of that night it was almost possible to imagine oneself free, but
snowed up. The next morning, on hearing that the camp was about two
miles away, we inquired if some of the larger suit cases might be left
behind as the walking was so heavy, to be brought up later, at an
extra charge, by the station sleigh, which came up to the camp every
day. But we might have known that it would only be a waste of breath
asking the Huns to help us in any way. (Later, when some very senior
British officers arrived, bound for this camp, they received
identically the same treatment.) After an uphill struggle we reached
the camp, and were kept standing quite unnecessarily for
three-quarters of an hour in a snowstorm before being admitted to the
dining-hall. On entering I was lucky enough to run straight into an
Australian flight commander, who had often taken me up in my observing
days at my first squadron, then at a village behind Ypres.

The camp is well situated, being almost surrounded by pine forests,
which cover most of the Hartz Mountains. If the day is at all clear a
high and rather rounded hill is visible to the eastward, conspicuous
for its bleakness, standing well above the dark intervening fir-clad
hills. This is the Brocken, the highest mountain in Northern Germany,
on the summit of which Goethe's Faust was evolved. It is difficult to
realise that it is, roughly, 5,000 feet above sea level, or the camp
2,000. The ascent in this part from the foot hills being gradual, the
surrounding country is not so imposing as one would expect. Outside
the camp is a small picturesque lake, which was frozen over most of
the time. On a clear evening it was fascinating to watch the superb
soaring of the buzzards. It seemed as if their telescopic eyes could
make out the wings on some of our tunics, for with a jeer