After some remarks about the awful weather they started to leave, the leader remarking that they just wanted to come out and pay their respects and see that we were getting along all right, and that if at any time we wanted anything just to let them know. My mind was not on these empty formalities—it was on the fact that we had a chance to provide for our own welfare, so I took them at their word. “That is so kind of you,” I smiled. “There are several little things you might do for us now. We would like to have some wood to keep us warm for the rest of the night, we would like to have something to eat, we would like to have some better blankets to sleep on, we would like to have a better mattress and would like to have some fresh water, and if it would not be too much bother we would like to have that slop pan outside cleaned up so that it will not smell so bad—Oh, yes,” I went on, “we would also like to have some exercise and some books or newspapers to read, and I, personally, would like to write a letter to my folks.” They looked somewhat dazed, so I ended my modest requests and said, “I think that is all we need right now.” They again looked at one another in a funny manner, as if to indicate that I was not lacking in the power of expressing my wants. I thought their parting sympathy was all bunk, but surprisingly enough they gave instructions to the sergeant to give us some more wood and promised that they would send us some newspapers. When it came to eats, they balked. “Food is something,” they explained, “over which we have no control.” “But, as a matter of fact,” the leader went on, “you really would not have time to eat anything, as you are soon to go to headquarters to meet the Staff, and you will undoubtedly have tea there.” They left and after a while the tin-wheeled bus came again and under proper escort we went back to Montmedy. There we had “tea,” which consisted of tea, about which the Germans constantly reminded us that it was exceedingly hard to get on account of the blockade, and that it was, indeed, a decided luxury and that we should appreciate that we were being served real tea. The rest of the “tea” was German war bread, which the Intelligence Officer admitted was bad for the stomach and was much better toasted, and then we had diminutive portions of confiture and butter, served individually, and as a finale we had cigarettes and sugar. They also offered us some liquor, which neither of us accepted, for we realized that the time of our interrogation was at hand, and since the usual trend of liquor is toward the tongue it was better not to imbibe, for we didn’t want to talk any more than was absolutely necessary. They did not insist on our breaking the water wagon vows, and it’s a good thing they didn’t, for while I cannot speak for Davis, I, personally, know that my nervous and physical condition was such that I could not have withstood a great deal of persuasion on such sensitive subjects.