6 April 1945
Here we are divided into groups of 100 and waiting to set off, which from what I hear will be towards Székesfehérvár. I am very frightened of the journey. Here we have already been fed twice; today there was bean soup. The day before yesterday I cooked a cup of potatoes. Yesterday a cup of maize — and that is all I have had. My spirits are very low; I don't know how this will end. Right now I am in a room — a school — with about 100 of us. The lice are multiplying rapidly. I am very curious about what lies ahead.
6 April 1945, 14:00
A great joy came to me at 16:00 on the 6th: we received a little bread. Six men shared one loaf. There was nothing to go with it, so I had no choice but to eat it plain — that was supposed to be supper. But what is most dreadful at the moment is that I have no tobacco; there was plenty left in my backpack, but that was lost along with the cart. I am very curious about tomorrow. I am recording these days — if only I could write them up properly — partly out of boredom, and partly because these may turn out to be the hardest days of my life.
7 April 1945, 10:00
Today I slept until 9 o'clock in this overcrowded room. We were packed so tightly that I could barely turn over at night. But it was still better than having to sleep outside, as I only have one blanket and rain seems likely. I heard quite good news, though it doesn't really benefit me: those over 32 will be demobilised, while the younger ones will get four weeks' leave and then have to report back. For breakfast I had a cup of potatoes boiled in their skins, with no salt or bread, but I filled up — though my strength keeps diminishing.