It’s like back at summer camp:
If there is one thing very German, then its their obsession with accuracy and documenting shit.
I feel like a farm animal at an auction.
After the examination I get clothes.
Must be state militia clothes from the 50s.
Ugly, outworn gray underwear.
Navy blue felt trousers.
Thick woolen socks.
Blue butcher shirt.
I’m warm again.
But very cold inside.
And I still don’t know what comes next.