Monday July 1. It’s rather appalling to think that I’ve been wearing the same underclothes now as when I was first captured, three months ago. Once they’ve been laundered, and once rinsed out; three times they’ve been baked. Voilà tout! I was very lucky to have been brought down while wearing two pairs of socks, one of mater’s make, and my big black boots. Some people were wearing thin socks and flying boots, which latter were confiscated, and some very primitive attempts at boot leather issued in lieu thereof. Likewise their socks are chiefly remarkable for the holes in them. News of a Red Cross issue today. Later: got another small, but very excellent issue of biscuits, bully beef, tea and sugar; and this time a little tobacco and cigarettes; not Red Cross stuff, but again sent by our interned civilians at Ruhleben. Bon!