We traveled in sub-zero Arctic weather，

    bundled in cotton-lined coats and fur hats，

    to labor¹ camps in remote detention² villages.

    There we gave first aid to the exiled Europeans

    who were beset³ by plague and disease.

    The people here suffered from frostbite and

    the crushing burden of stressful hard labor.

    Theirs was a difficult， miserable⁴ life——

    constant insults added to their misery⁵.

    We were welcomed with warm greetings，

    their single link to the outside world——

    they all wanted to know how the war was

    going. Are the radio stories about Hitler's

    reign⁶ of terror true， or just Soviet⁷ propaganda？

    We carried （by memory） names of relatives，

    separated from their families， sent to other

    gulag camps. Sadly， most of our inquiries⁸

    received sad answers： "committed suicide"——

    "died from typhus"——"perished in the mines."

    Four of us traveled together——a Polish nurse，

    a Ukrainian driver， a Russian watchman， and me.

    On the way back to our clinic， the others were

    drinking， singing， or telling jokes. With the tragic⁹

    lives of the exiles fresh in my mind， I only cried.