A red-cheeked German with a protruding belly, dressed in a light summer suit with carefully pressed trousers, slowly stepped away from the newly arrived prisoners, lost in thought. By his appearance, one could tell he was a well-meaning democrat. He would stop, then move towards the forbidden line again. Crossing it, he took out a neatly folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, tore off a piece, and to avoid soiling his trousers, placed it on the grass and sat down. The guard, facing away from him, soon turned around. I was observing the scene. Approaching, he said seriously: "Sitting here is prohibited!" The German, despite his belly, nimbly jumped up, grabbing the paper, and replied: "Oh, is it prohibited here? Danke schoen! Where is it allowed then?" The guard grimly pointed to a spot nearby, but in such a way that the German would not sit on the fateful line.

Taking two steps, the democrat spread the paper again and confidently sat down, engrossed in reading the "Voelkischer Beobachter." I did not want to smile, but I smiled nonetheless. I am not a professional rebel. We all know that revolution is human misfortune. But looking at this German with his neatly placed paper, I feel a slight Slavic disdain. His attitude towards prohibitions and permissions is not submission, but an attempt to accept the new order. We Slavs, and all "non-Germans," do not understand this desire to be governed. I recall how after the failed revolution of 1848, Berlin tailors marched to the palace with a poster: "Unter deinen Fluegeln kann ich ruhig buegeln." Those Germans who do not have this desire developed must cultivate it in camps. This is the essence of these camps, where prisoners perform meaningless actions on command. Of course, "der Mensch ist nicht geboren frei zu sein," but should there not be a dream of freedom? However, Germany hates "disorder."