We had been waiting in the train station now for two or three hours. We kept waiting for the guards to open the door and let us out, but it didn't happen. I managed to pry open a small ventilation panel on the side of the boxcar, and then to motion to some German civilians standing nearby for some water. An engineer standing by a neighboring train must have understood, for he came, took the can, filled it with water, and returned it to us. Nine of us had one swallow of water each. It was so good; yet we were still so very thirsty. We motioned for more, but a guard was coming, and the engineer left. We closed the panel.

Finally the train began to move. It was evident that we would not be taken from the train this Christmas Eve.

Eventually we grew more tired, and tried to find rest, and sleep. We had to lie closely snuggled together to find enough room for all to lie down, and to keep from freezing. It was so very, very cold. After about one half-hour, our upper sides and lower sides grew unbearably cold. Some wanted to turn over; others did not. We practiced our democracy, and voted. After the voting, those who lost voiced their disappointment loudly, using every Army word that I had ever heard, and even some new ones.

The cars were so narrow that we had to overlap our feet, and those with shoes who didn't remove them caused others to complain. Again the same words were used, but to no avail. I removed my wooden shoes and used them for a pillow. I had put on three pairs of socks, all the clothing I had. My feet were relatively comfortable, while many others ended up with frozen feet.

After approximately one to two hours, when the cold became unbearable, we would have to stand, and beat our arms, and kick our legs, to keep from freezing, and so we spent our Christmas Eve lying down, napping, turning, standing, exercising and lying down, as we had done the two previous nights.

Finally, light began to show through the cracks of the boxcar. Christmas Day had arrived. Christmas! Surely today our captors would take us from these boxcars, and give us warmth and food and water, at least some water. Each time we entered a town, we thought we would surely stop and receive some relief from this unbearable cold and thirst. As noon approached, we had convinced ourselves that we would stop at the next town, in a few minutes, and quench this terrible thirst. Noon passed us by, and afternoon, and as the shadows increased, we started to realize that this Christmas Day was going to end cold and miserable, and we would still be hungry, and so very thirsty.