. . .ion natural after the turgid experiences of the last eight months, and it certainly made that one week at Karlsruhe lyrical with content.

Karlsruhe was a distributing station through which all officer prisoners passed on their way to permanent camps. But there was always retained a small committee of officers to superintend the activities of this fluid community. There were officers to look after the issue of relief parcels, to run the library, to control general discipline. In charge of the Red Cross Committee was Tarrant.

Fourteen months of captivity had not made much impression either on his cheerfulness or on his health. In fact he looked and felt so fit that it caused him some alarm.

“I’m too well,” he said, “I’m thinking of trying a fast.”{39}

“He’s been saying that every day for the last month,” remarked Stone, his room companion.

“Oh, no, old man, really,&rdqu. . . Read More