Mexborough and Swinton Times January 4, 1919

Prison Life In Germany

The following “verses’ are supplied to is by Pte. F, Jackson, 3 Raikes Street, Mexborough, of the ill-fated Sennelager camp, Germany for the greater part of the war. He has now returned to his home.

Now I will tell you a story,
You may not think it true.
But come to Sennelager
And spend a month or two.

At five o’clock each morning
To the cookhouse we would go,
To draw our daily coffee.
In the rain, the hail, and snow,

No sugar given ‘with it,
Is an insult to the troops.
Next comes the great inspection,
At 7-30 this takes place,

And if you are not there in time,
The Kommandant you must face.
And that is not a pleasant thing,
For he hates the English race.

At 11 o’clock the bread is “drawn,”
Which you should go and see,
The, size of it is ten by ten,
And through it you can see.

‘Tis made of a little a sawdust,
With spuds and rye inside,
Not mentioning the straw and
Other mysteries beside.

At twelve o’clock the soup is “drawn,”
Which is so very thin,
That you could read a newspaper
in the bottom of the tin.

We got our meat but once a month,
A peace so very small,
That forty men might cut the cards
To see who took it all,

Reports they put up every day
Of prisoners galore,
I’m sure that if the half were true
The Aillies would be no more,

The beds, they are so nice, and clean
That’s what the Germang saY
Yet you are teased all night b lice,
And scratching all next day.

We got a paper twice a week,
‘The Continental Times,”
No matter when you looked in it
You’d find some “English swine.”

They said ’twas printed in the States
We listened with a grin,
For well we knew the precious thing
Was printed in Berlin