I was taken prisoner by the Magyars in the Carpathians. We were driven
to the station of Kashitzi, where we found more Russians, I don't know
how many, and were placed in dirty cars, from which cattle had just
been removed. The stench was terrible, the crowd unthinkable. The doors
were locked all the time.... We travelled two days; on the third we
arrived in a camp called Lintz. What did I see in this camp? Filthy
barracks, naked bunks on which our soldiers were scattered, pale,
exhausted, hungry, nearly all barefoot or in wooden clogs. Many were
suffering from inflamed feet and exhaustion. I don't know how they call
it in medicine, but to my mind it was the fever of starvation. One gets
yellow, trembles incessantly, longs for food....
The prisoners were fed very poorly, mainly with turnips, beans, and
peas.
Once a soldier decided to complain to Francis Joseph or Wilhelm. He
went up to an electric pole, formed his fingers so that it looked as if
he were speaking into a telephone horn, and shouted, "Hello, Germans,
give us some more bread!" He called and knocked with his fists for some
time, but, of course, received no reply. Many soldiers made fun of
him at first, but others began to look for a way to complain against
such treatment of war prisoners. Meanwhile the bread became poorer and
poorer in quality and less in quantity. The meals consisted of beans,
and in addition there were bugs in the beans. We got meat three times
a week, the other days we got herring.
On the 24th of May, 1915, a company was recruited among us to be sent
away to do some "agricultural" work. The soldiers would not believe
it, claiming that peace was near. I was in the first contingent. Our
train was passing between mountains covered with evergreen. Every now
and then it would shoot through tunnels. This surprised me greatly. I
understood that we were not going in the direction of Russia. And so
it was. We finally arrived in a place, where the thousand of us were
quartered in one building. We at once began to be treated differently,
much more insolently and severely. On the 27th we were driven to the
fields to work. We wondered what the agricultural labour we were to do
could be. We were supplied with shovels and pick-axes, led to a wood on
a hill some 1,600 metres high, mustered into rows, and ordered to dig a
ditch--that is what the Germans called it--but we called it otherwise.
It became clear that we were to dig trenches.
The first day passed in idleness and grumbling. All unanimously refused
to work, even if we had to pay with our lives for it.
We waited for the following morning. The guards came to take us out to
work, but we said that we would not dig trenches. Then the Colonel
came and asked in Russian: "Why don't you want to work?" We all
answered: "This work is against the law. You are violating the European
laws and breaking all agreements by forcing us to construct defensive
lines for you." The Colonel said: "Look out, don't resist, or we will
shoot every one of you. We don't care now for the laws to which you
point us. All Europe is at war now--this is no time for laws. If you
don't go to work, I will have you shot."