Over the top of this gate I had noticed one of those mottoes to which
the German is so partial. I do not recall the actual words, but I was
told that it was something to do with crime and punishment. It would
have been far more appropriate had it been inscribed "Main entrance to
Hell. No pass-out checks!" According to many accounts which reached my
ears during the succeeding few days, many entered those gates, but few
passed out alive. I can substantiate this from my own observations,
which are duly narrated, while my experience was sufficient to vouch for
its similarity to Hades.

This gate gave approach to a long corridor, flanked on either side by
cells. This corridor is facetiously nick-named by the prisoners as
"Avenue of the Damned," because it is in these cells that the tenants
await their doom. I was separated from my two companions, who were
already being treated more leniently than myself, the case against them
being obviously very thin, and was brought to a stop before cell "No.
11."

The massive door swung open, and accompanied by four soldiers I entered.
The door closed, there was a grating in the lock, and we were alone.
Even now I could not keep back a smile. Although I had been thrust into
the cell, together with four armed soldiers, and the door had been
bolted and barred, I turned at the sound of a slight click. The head
gaoler, who had ushered us in and had locked the door upon us, according
to the regulations of the prison, had opened the peep-hole to satisfy
himself that I was safely inside!