As we left the cookroom, the Lieutenant Colonel told us that the eight thousand five hundred men in this particular section of the camp were fed in fifty minutes, a statistic suggestive of German efficiency. From the kitchen we visited one of the sheds where the prisoners sleep. Leading the way, the officer threw open a wooden door. Instantly some one shouted a command in Russian; there was a scuffling of feet and the prisoners jumped up from their mattresses, struck attention and saluted. At the thought of being compelled to sleep in that room, cold chills ran up one's spine. In justice to the Germans it must be said that they build the place clean; they furnished it with new clean bedding; they do everything humanly possible to keep it clean. Given that same number of Russians, two hundred and fifty, put them in that same sized room, their mattresses in four rows, each mattress flush against the other, transport that shed into Russia and leave those men there without German supervision to make them keep reasonably clean, and you would get one result--cholera. As it is, every prisoner at the Doeberitz camp and every other prison camp in Germany--and I later visited many of them--can thank fortune that he was taken prisoner by a nation that knows how to keep things clean. Passing through the long room with the Russians standing on either side, bewildered at the sight of foreigners, noting the many windows for ventilation, one was glad to get out into the open air. There the Lieutenant Colonel confirmed something you had been thinking. "It's best not to get too near those fellows," he said. "We do our best to make them keep clean, but they've all got lice." Then the officer had his little joke. "For a few days before we had these quarters ready we had to keep all nationalities together, so the Englishmen caught it from the Russians. They've been scrubbing ever since, but then they should share everything. Are they not allies?" Walking up and down the side streets of the Russian section one saw faces pressed against the window panes, others peering from behind the doors, while others boldly came out to view the Lieutenant Colonel's guest. Here one noticed the difference in the Russian soldier. Two distinct types, one with the predominance of Tatar blood, heavy faced and tiny eyed, as devoid of expression as a pudgy Japanese; but there was the other Russian, the man from the North, more alert looking, who grinned at you as you went by, and seemed to see something funny in it.