Monday 2nd December 1918
A batch of prisoners from another camp called Munster arrived today, amongst them being an Irish corporal of my own platoon. The joy of our meeting again, is almost impossible to imagine.
I think we remained out of bed more than half the night talking over all that had happened in our various stages of captivity.
He told me that he had been kept behind the lines during the first three months, engaged in carrying wounded back to the dressing station. Before returning to the front line they were made to hump shells and ammunition.
They were only given one meal per day, until he was nothing but a skeleton and thoroughly run down. They were then obliged to send this batch of now useless men right into Germany, and had this not been done they would all have died from starvation and overwork, not counting the ill treatment.
However we had been given Emergency Parcels today, so I shared what I could afford with him, and he seemed very grateful when he retired to sleep.