and the chosen victims were chased to the meeting place with shouts and blows.
However, as long as my Capo felt the need of pouring out his heart, this could not happen to me.
I had a guaranteed place of honor next to him. But there was another advantage, too.
Like nearly all the camp inmates I was suffering from edema.
My legs were so swollen and the skin on them so tightly stretched that I could scarcely bend my knees.
I had to leave my shoes unlaced in order to make them fit my swollen feet.
There would not have been space for socks even if I had had any.
So my partly bare feet were always wet and my shoes always full of snow.
This, of course, caused frostbite and chilblains. Every single step became real torture.
Clumps of ice formed on our shoes during our marches over snow-covered fields.
Over and again men slipped and those following behind stumbled on top of them.
Then the column would stop for a moment, but not for long.
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