"Prisoners of war for internment!" replied our officer-in-charge.

"But I don't know anything about them. I have received no instructions.
There is no accommodation for them here!" protested the General.

Our officer produced his imposing sheaf of papers and the two
disappeared into the office.

The feelings of the party at this intelligence may be conceived. The
majority dropped, in a state of semi-collapse in the sand, their
belongings strewn around them, utter dejection written on their faces.

After what I had experienced at Wesel I was prepared for anything. I had
already learned the futility of giving way. I felt no inclination to sit
or lie in the blistering sand. I caught sight of a stretch of inviting
turf, made my way to it, and threw myself down upon it. But I was not to
enjoy the luxury of Nature's couch. A soldier came bustling up and
before I grasped his intentions I was hustled off, with the intimation
that if I wanted to lie down I must do so in the sand.

The fact that no arrangements had been made for our reception was only
too obvious. It was about noon when the two officers disappeared into
the official building to discuss the papers referring to our arrival,
and it was six in the evening before they had come to any decision.
Throughout these six hours we were left lying on the scorching sand in
the broiling sun without a bite of food. Seeing that many of us had
eaten little or nothing since the early evening of the previous day it
is not surprising that the greater part were knocked up. One or two of
us caught sight of the canteen provided for the convenience of recruits,
and succeeded in getting a few mouthfuls, but they were not worth