When I was a kid, there was a Prisoner of War camp on the farm where we lived.

We used to talk to the Germans through the fence. We would go into the village and buy cigarettes for them. They used to earn money and beer by working on the farm. On occasion the guards would look the other way and we were allowed into the camp and the Germans would serve us piping hot black coffee.
One time they asked us to get some yeast for them, but, being kids, we didn't know what that was. So they said 'Ask you Mother, She'll know what it is'. We replied that she wouldn't know either, 'cos we didn't. We were most surprised to find that she DID know. She showed it to us when she got it, and it was the first time we'd seen yeast.
We were playing in the barn one day and were trying to braid the colored string which we had pulled out of some old cabbage sacks. Hans came by and showed us how to braid.
As far as we could see they were treated quite well.
The only thing I saw that I thought was bad, was that they had to line up with their beer mugs to get the beer that they'd earned working on the farm. I thought that that was quite degrading for men to have to do.

Funny the things that stick in your mind.