A hut was cleared temporarily, a few wooden benches were pushed or nailed together and a program was drawn up.
In the evening those who had fairly good positions in camp—the Capos and the workers
who did not have to leave camp on distant marches—assembled there.
They came to have a few laughs or perhaps to cry a little; anyway, to forget.
There were songs, poems, jokes, some with underlying satire regarding the camp.
All were meant to help us forget, and they did help.
The gatherings were so effective that a few ordinary prisoners went to see the cabaret in spite of their fatigue
even though they missed their daily portion of food by going.
During the half-hour lunch interval when soup (which the contractors paid for and for which they did not spend much) was ladled out at our work site,
we were allowed to assemble in an unfinished engine room.
On entering, everyone got a ladleful of the watery soup.
While we sipped it greedily, a prisoner climbed onto a tub and sang Italian arias.
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