and were too lazy and disinterested to move a finger unnecessarily,
we heard shrill whistles and shouts from the square where the night shift had just returned and was assembling for roll call.
The door was flung open, and the snowstorm blew into our hut.
An exhausted comrade, covered with snow, stumbled inside to sit down for a few minutes.
But the senior warden turned him out again. It was strictly forbidden to admit a stranger to a hut while a check-up on the men was in progress.
How sorry I was for that fellow and how glad not to be in his skin at that moment, but instead to be sick and able to doze on in the sick quarters!
What a lifesaver it was to have two days there, and perhaps even two extra days after those!
All this came to my mind when I saw the photographs in the magazine.
When I explained, my listeners understood why I did not find the photograph so terrible:
the people shown on it might not have been so unhappy after all.
On my fourth day in the sick quarters I had just been detailed to the night shift
when the chief doctor rushed in and asked me to volunteer for medical duties in another camp containing typhus patients.
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