The camp staff postpones its packing. Transports neither arrive nor depart any longer. Newcomers don’t occupy the places of our dead. The overcrowding diminishes and the bunks empty out at a frightening pace. Nor is food served regularly anymore. The kitchen operates only at times, and even then just bunker soup is prepared. We get bread every other day. Provisions are dwindling, and there isn’t even a hint of being resupplied. To make up for this we get two tablespoons of sugar a day: it seems the supply is larger. For those with diarrhea, sugar is poison, but they devour it greedily. The
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