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How did we live behind the barbed wire fence?

Let it be said, first of all, that we did not suffer significant physical hardships. Whatever material discomforts we had to endure were never inflicted maliciously or with a punitive objective. Our sufferings were psychological: firstly the painful, undeserved deprivation of freedom and secondly, the mental anguish of being locked up for being deemed, of all things, German nationals and suspected Nazi sympathizers.

Physically we lived with comforts and discomforts similar to those experienced by recruits in the army. We were housed in austere, but adequate army barracks, with bunk beds, foot lockers, and clean sanitary facilities. We were under military discipline, with daily inspections and military regulations and with the bugle call of reveille in the morning and taps in the evening. I rather liked that. The military command encouraged the inmates to run their camp through a democratically elected camp administration. As long as there were no problems, the military command interfered as little as possible. We made use of the facilities for recreation and entertainment. We even had a coffee house, for which our own skilled European bakers, refugees from Vienna cafes, produced marvelous pastries.

The internment authorities provided also the opportunity to work, beyond the work details required for the maintenance and improvement of the camp itself, such as ground maintenance, sanitation, dining room, kitchen, workshops and so forth. The manufacture of camouflage nets for the armed forces was a camp industry. While at Camp B in New Brunswick we also had forestry work, cutting trees in the forest surrounding the camp. Pay was 20 cents per day. Although students were exempt from work, occasionally I went into the woods with the work details and became quite proficient at felling trees with my axe and carrying them on my shoulder to the clearing where teams of horses would pick the timber up. Especially in the winter when deep snow covered the bush, it was an exhilarating experience for a bookworm like me.

National Post

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