Diaries record brush with death

Here are some edited extracts:

MON, JAN 22: Amidst jocular ribaldry from the fellows staying in camp we marched through the gates at 3pm, blocks 5, 4, 3, 2. The sick of these blocks were left in camps. Everyone was quite cheerful, but apprehensive. Our first troubles were slipping & sliding over the ice. Onward we raced, the sound of Russian guns in the distance.

WED JAN 24th: Last night was ghastly. We slept on hard rocks in an open shed. It was bitterly cold & the draught came up through the stones whistling through my ribs. Our blankets were wet through & I was shivering all night. I thought at the time that if it went on much longer like that I should have either pneumonia or rheumatic fever. When I tried to get my boots on they were frozen absolutely solid.

SUN FEB 4th: My general conclusions about the march are these. I tried hard to take my mind off the discomfort by thinking of various things, mainly HOME. My thoughts were constantly with Mum, Dad, Rene, & Rover. Always there. Mum would cry her eyes out if she only saw us. I plotted & planned my future career, which I think will now definitely be farming. Oh for those home comforts.

MARCH 8th THUR: And now beg me the tale of woe. Since my last entry I have been through what I now realise to be the most critical period of my life. I have been quite near death. I was diagnosed as having Influenza & Dysentery.

A conclusion I have reached is this. MAN is little removed from an animal when he comes to real survival.