7 May 1945, 18:00
I have been moved to a slightly better place, at least from a sleeping perspective — though it is far from rosy! We have now been sorted into groups of 40 and our names have been registered again: birthplace, where and when we were captured, and our father's name. The food has changed too — instead of beans we now receive semolina soup twice a day. We also get a little sugar in the mornings and our small bread ration. I am no longer counting on going home any time soon, though perhaps in the autumn I might. We are completely fenced in with barbed wire, our barracks separately enclosed. We went through another search, a thorough pat-down this time. My torch suffered for it.
10 May 1945, 10:00
Yesterday it was officially announced, even within the camp, that the war is over and the guns have fallen silent — Thank God — perhaps this will shorten the days of our suffering. Today I did a big wash, consisting of one pair of underpants and one shirt. I feel weakened again; only the hope sustains me that we will be going home soon. In this camp there are about 30,000 of us — not too overcrowded at the moment. There are also a few hundred Germans — or rather Austrians. Life is very monotonous. No letters come, which might at least pass the time. Not even the red field postcards from Jucika, arriving in pairs. But let us hope this won't continue.
13 May 1945, 14:00
At this moment it looks very much like rain. Thunder is rumbling and it keeps getting darker — yet the Russians had planned some kind of celebration for this afternoon. I wonder if the rain will interfere? Already I can hear the assembly call being shouted. According to the rumours, we are moving somewhere again. 50 men are already at the station arranging some wagons — surely for us. If only we could move closer to home. People say so much at times like this: that people guilty of far graver offences than ours end up here. The assembly came together, but I am back in the room already, because a fierce rain broke out — a heavy shower with hail even. Now I continue my usual occupation: lying down. This rain is doing a lot of good, clearing the air a little. I am already so afraid of infectious diseases. Part of our barracks has been sealed off because typhus suspects have been identified. God save us from that.