On Saturday morning there was a sharp knock on the door as Angie and I
were eating breakfast. We both jumped when we heard Gunthar's voice saying,
"Miriam, open the door. I know you're here."

I fearfully replied, "How did you find out? Are you spying on me?"

Without hesitation, he yelled, "None of your business. Now open the door or I'll knock it down." His tone proved that he did have spies.

I opened the door quickly for I had no qualms about the fact that he would live up to this threat.

He was not alone. On either side of him were two well-muscled and armed men. Gunthar snidely said, "Meet my bodyguards."

I stood stock still for a second and then said, "They look more like henchmen to me." The two men gave each other a knowing look that made me sure I was right.

Gunthar suddenly jumped at me and grabbed my arm so tightly it hurt. I tried but couldn't get free. He handed me to the, so called, bodyguards who grabbed me on either sides. They carried me, my feet hanging a foot off the ground, to a pick-up with wooden cage attached to its bed. It reminded me of a traveling circus wagon.

All the way, I was kicking and screaming, saying, "How can you do this? You are kidnapping me."

When I was in the back with the tailgate closed, he said, "I am arresting you."

Being equally frightened and angry, I said in a shaky voice, "How can you do that? I haven't broken any laws."

He returned haughtily, "I can do anything I want. I am governor."

I hadn't heard of this promotion, but it seemed he was more of a dictator than a governor with what he just said.

Sitting on the benches, I saw that I was not alone. Riding with me were two men, three women and one teen-aged boy. Some were shaking and one woman was in tears. The men, although their eyes said they were afraid, tried to stay strong for the others. I joined the men.

Seconds later I heard the car doors slam, the engine rev, and we were off to who knows where.

What seemed like forever, but was probably just an hour, by the sun's position, we came to a stop and were unloaded like cattle. We were herded to a line in front of a guard post at the gate of a twenty-foot high, razor wired fence that looked to be about 3 miles long. It had guard posts at each corner. The other end of the fence was out of sight.

When I got to the guard gate, I was asked my age and clothes size, and they gave me a uniform. With the uniform I was given a red armband, which signified I was over twenty-one. Those younger ones were given orange ones. Since the men and women were separated at the stop, I assumed they entered at another gate and had different colored armbands.

Once inside the women were broken into groups of five, each flanked by two armed guards. My group of five were led to a cabin with a 12 on the door. One of the guards laughed and said, "Welcome to your humble abode.", and opened the door with a sweeping bow.

Boy was he right about humble. It was one room with five army cots and a coal stove for warmth only. The only storage was a crate at the foot of each cot. Each held linens for the beds and underwear of all sizes.

Before the guards let us into the cabins, they told us to change into the uniform and put our clothes outside the door, so they could be burned. There were a couple of pairs of one size fits all socks on the bed, and a note saying that to prevent illness, the uniforms would be washed on every Tuesday and Saturday. On the first washday another
uniform would be given for us to change into. It also said there were showers near the mess hall. The shower schedule is tacked beside the door. So, at least a little bit of dignity was provided us.

On the inside of the door was a meal schedule and a sample menu. It said if you're on a group of out-of-camp workers a box lunch would be provided you. Otherwise, if you weren't in the mess hall during the allotted lunch hour, you would not get fed. The only exception to this rule is if you were in the infirmary or told to stay in your cabin. If
you were quarantined to your cabin, a kitchen worker would place a meal outside your door.

After the women had chosen their cots, we began to change into our uniforms. Some seem embarrassed to be changing in a group. This would change quickly. I had a feeling the showers were going to be communal showers. Then we had forty-five minutes to rest until lunch. We each gave our names and a little bit of our backgrounds. None of these women understood why they had been sent here. They were neither poor or unemployed. This was supposed to be a work camp for the poor with a farm and garden.

Living with me was Charlene, a 23-year-old engaged women. Donna a 45-year-old widow with a daughter aged 13 that was housed in another cabin. We wondered if all families were separated. The final two were sisters Edwina 15 and Laura 17.

We found out they got away with this because they had the same mother but different fathers. The new half sister never was officially adopted by her step-father so they had different last names.

At the beginning, we were told we couldn't use our last names. Probably a way to make us lose our separate identities. We agreed that in our cabins we would break this rule. This was a small revolt against the loss of freedom.








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