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of a general uprising. We can only be grateful for having gotten out of there, where one has to fear for one’s life among one’s own comrades.
Those married men who are interned in Bourke seem to have drawn the short straw. B.
is the terminus of a railway line that leads into Australia’s outback, a totally desolate
area, they say. Heat, dust and flies are barely bearable, and everybody is wearing veils all day long and suffers from one or the other disease. Now I’ve read in a newspaper that B. was devastated by a cyclone; apparently the roofs have flown off all the hotels and several private residences have been damaged so badly that they are no longer
habitable. The damage has been estimated in the several thousand pounds.
Of all the [German] internees, those in Berrima have got the best lot, they say: the captains and officers of the merchant marine. The place is fairly high up