Thursday. July. 18th. Smashed one lens of my glasses at 8.30 a.m. yesterday, and got glasses back mended within three hours – for 3/6. Pretty good!
18 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Tag: Food
16 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Tuesday. July 16. Red letter day. Two R.F.C. parcels arrived, dated May 31st, and directed to Hannover. Both intact except for a cake of soap, alas! Still, cleanliness, though next to godliness, is a bad second to ones tummy in Graudenzlager. Rather perturbed to hear my friends remark how thin I look. Usually people you meet every day are slow to see a difference in you. Still, thank God I feel fit again. I’m sharing parcels with Miller, a very decent little Scotchman from Glasgow. You will never quite realise at home the delicious taste of that first tin of Haricot Mutton.
14 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Sunday. July 14. Though this is a diary, it is for you all at home, for interest and amusement after the war. But one thing you will never quite fully appreciate; the delight we have in self torture, in conjuring up visions of meals we might be eating, were we home. We eat enough here to keep from dying, but we are constantly hungry and get weaker every day. Today I feel much better in myself, but I really haven’t the strength to walk round the square more than once. We arrange any little business we have to do so that we need not climb up and down stairs more than necessary – just as if we were a lot of old ladies. This morning we discussed a probable breakfast. I plumped for:
Banana Fritters
Fish Cakes and Tomato Ketchup (Salmon)
Bacon and eggs. Fried Bread
(Bread) butter, marmalade, Toast
(Coffee) Café au lait.
I must ask Tootsie to have it as a treat one morning après la guerre.
Instead of which I had – black bread: 3 ozs. Coffee.
Rumours of 400 parcels at the station.
12 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Friday, July 12th. Felt considerably better. Quite a large list of parcels for the camp. I was unlucky however.
We live here on about an eighth of a loaf, and two soups a day. Yet after our sumptuous repast we drink wine (at least some do: I personally don’t) at 13/- the bottle; and smoke cigars varying in price from 1/6 to 2/3 each. So we live the life, and have all the indolence of one of the ‘idle rich’.
10 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Wednesday July 10th. Felt rather better. Still have no appetite. Beat another man at chess.
8 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Monday July 8th. Feel jolly bad, and totally disinclined to eat, especially this black bread. Afraid I’m going to be ill. Beat some fellow at chess. He must have been rotten.
7 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Sunday. July 7th. Feel jolly rotten and weak today. Diarrhoea. Fancy I must have been slightly poisoned by some comic tinned fish paste I ate Friday. Got an issue of 2½ big biscuits each. Ate them with much relish and a little butter. Glorious! Wrote home giving advice about my balance at Cox’s. Took a calomel lozenge at night.
5 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Friday. July 5. News of issue of grub turns out to be entirely unfounded. Wish I could find and kill the man who started the rumour!
Saw dentist today. Can’t say I enjoyed the visit. Had two stopped; and the nerve of little ’erbert is in process of being destroyed – not a painful process.
4 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Thursday. July. 4. Feeling rather better. News of a issue of grub tomorrow. Also revisiting the dentist; still it’s no good getting grub if you can’t eat it, is it? Joined Chess Club today. Class A.
3 July 1918: POW Graudenz
Wednesday. July. 3. Feeling very weak and consequently fed up. No sign of parcels yet. People in our room insist on talking about food, meals they have eaten, or intend to eat. Every book I pick up insists on describing meals at length. Oh hell!