We crawled into our bunks without removing our clothes for the reason that it was too cold to sleep without them and we also intended to get out during the night. About two o’clock, after continued tossing and tumbling, wondering just what process we would follow in the attempt, I got up and awakened Davis; then I crept to the window. After a good twenty minutes of tinkering with that window, cautiously moving it an eighth of an inch at a time, I finally got it open to such a point that we could get out—at least, so I thought. Directly in front of us was one of those little houses so commonly used at garrisons in France and Germany, known as Sentry Boxes. I figured the old boy would be in there all right, but he would be fast asleep, so I stuck my head out, gave a little spring, and as I brought my stomach up on the sill like a flash from out the sentry box stepped this hardboiled Boche. He had a huge flashlight and immediately I was in the spotlight. The window was the stage and I the star. There is some humor in the situation, now as I look back upon it, but believe me, there was none then. For when that German began to excitedly ejaculate “Loze! Loze!” whatever that is, I took my head to cover just like a tortoise draws his protruding physiognomy into the secret confines of his shell.
“It’s all right,” I called as we hit for our bunk, “we’ve got to have a little air.”
That night we almost froze to death, for we didn’t dare to close the window, for we did not know the extent of the German sentry’s memory of foreign expressions, and the fact that we left the window open all night would be a good alibi for opening the window in that we did need air. It was a hard result, but since it was our story we shivered and stuck to it. Take it from me, we were icebergs the next morning.
Fortunately they served us an early breakfast, which consisted of some hot German Ersatz coffee, which is no coffee at all. It is made from acorns and it doesn’t go well as a substitute. In fact, you must train your appetite and taste for Ersatz just as you do for olives. They brought us a little confiture, which was also imitation and it didn’t have any more consistency than a marshmallow. The orderly started to walk away and simultaneously Davis bawled out, “Where is our bread?” The orderly explained that they had given us our allowance last night for twenty-four hours.