Page:Diary of a Prisoner in World War I by Josef Šrámek.pdf/43

 bacon there, a corn ear or a potato elsewhere—everything was worth gold. Other sorts of money became totally useless. Those who had gold could eat some. Those with bank notes from Monte Negro or Serbia were worse off—they were at the mercy of others. But there were also many places where even gold would not buy anything as Albania was eaten almost completely by those who got there before us. In fact, we were the last ones to escape. We were to cross Albania—a country perhaps less explored today than central Africa. There is no such traveler who would dare go among the wild Albanian tribes that only live in never ending disputes and fighting, where human life has no value, where an Albanian who gets a new gun will rather try it out on the first person he meets, feeling more sorry for the bullet than for his victim.

It was much worse with food. Anyone who had any, however few, they hid them jealously. A piece of corn