PUNISHMENT CAMP
CHAPTER 1.
"Right, the fools have put it in the wrong place. There is a barrow and here is
a shovel. Move it over there" said Sgt "Butch" Freda Patterson.
"You don't eat or drink until it's done. It had better be done by two or you'll
regret it"
Private Eloise Brown sighed inwardly as she saw the large pile of coke recently
unloaded from the truck. It had taken it just a few seconds to cascade onto the
concrete floor. It would take her much longer to transfer it shovel-load by
shovel- load, long back-breaking wheelbarrow journey by wheelbarrow journey
three hundred yards to the spot where it should have been unloaded. Or should it
have been?
Eloise had a pretty shrewd idea that the suppliers had been deliberately told to
put it in the wrong place, just as a way of giving the long suffering girl yet
more back- breaking work out in the open on a cold November day.
Colder than this time last year, Eloise remembered with a shudder as she
contemplated the three long years before her ordeal would be over. Last year had
been worse, though, she thought. At least she was pretty well inured by this
time to hard labour in this remote punishment camp, with its harsh, open air
routine.
Better get started she thought and began to shovel the solid fuel into the
barrow. It was a heavy shovel and soon her arms and shoulders began to ache,
even though they had been forced through a multitude of such tasks already. The
barrow was soon full and she began to wheel it over to the other site. After two
dozen journeys her back, shoulder and arms were aching and her hands, although
toughened after over a year's toil ,sore.
After three hours as the winter day began to lighten she could see that the new
pile was still only about a third the size of the original and she was
desperately tired and hungry. She had been up since four am and had had no
breakfast - only the usual mug of disgusting tea. Six more hours at the least
before I finish this! Surely I don't deserve this, she thought as she shovelled
and trudged back and forth.
Three hours later at ten am it started to snow heavily and the path between the
two piles became slippery. She began to struggle to keep up the momentum and to
stay on her feet. There was still just over a third of the job still to be done
and she was bound to slow down over the last last stages. She could scarcely
see, feel or hear as she fought through the pain to keep going.
As the new pile grew, she had to throw the shovels full of coke upwards to
ensure that the pile was as high as the first one and this only added to the
gruelling nature of the task she had been given.
Despite the immense physical exertions, she could feel the cold beginning to
affect her. Her feet cried out in agony and her hands ached with excruciating
intensity of concentrated pain. She stamped on the ground to keep the
circulation going. It was not surprising, of course, that her physical efforts
were barely sufficient to keep the cold at bay.
For fifteen long, awful months now, Eloise had been completely naked, even down
to her feet.
