After lunch we would sit in the garden, talk about memories, and sometimes sing. That was when the village beauties walked by our house and peeped over the fence.
After about 3 weeks, we received an order to stamp all our underwear and clothes. A guard brought tin forms. Jára, who was sick, got the forms and paint and started printing "P.G." and a six-digit number. Jára was very skilful. He could do anything in the world—repair watches and ploughs, shoes and stoves—but could not read or write. We only learned that much later. He concealed it well, as he was ashamed of it. He would get no letters and wrote to no one, so we never learned anything.
So Jára printed and printed. But alas, when the guard came back from his stroll in the evening he found that Jára had also painted the underwear that was being dried in the garden. It could not be erased nor washed off.
July 19
Waking up at 4, then coffee and haymaking. We work as if we were paid 5 crowns a day. Lunch at noon, as yesterday, that mixture for supper, then potato goulash and finally milk pap. It was dark when we got home. Our work is a bit too much for 20 cts. daily. Guards watch us. We cannot leave them for a single step. They are with us in the fields all day.
They don't fuss around with us at night. To avoid having to watch, they lock us in, give us
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