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a newspaper finds its way into camp, but of course at a hefty price. Or the people who clean the officers’ toilets outside the camp bring back a scrap they’ve found there. You can imagine the hunger with which such news is gobbled up. These scraps of newspapers, as tattered and grubby as they are, are passed on from hand to hand, as if they were the dearest thing on Earth. If there are no newspapers, our fantasy goes into overdrive, of course. The maddest rumours make the round and often you don’t know what to believe. Unfortunately, a few gentlemen seem to delight in making up things and spreading them.
Liverpool, 30th April 1915 The day before yesterday Major Cotton from Singapore was in the camp. He inspected it accompanied by the Commander and greeted us in the process. He asked me, sarcastically, if I liked it better here, to which I replied that this camp was not suitable to house any human being. I offered to show him the lavatories and washing facilities, etc but he declined and