“It was, as nearly as I can remember it, midday when the trainload of prisoners reached Pretoria. The day was fine and the sun shone brightly. There was a considerable crowd to receive us; ugly women with bright parasols, loafers and ragamuffins, fat burghers too heavy to ride at the front, and a long line of untidy, white-helmeted policemen – Zarps they were called. About a dozen cameras were clicking busily, establishing an imperishable record of our shame. At last, when the crowd had thoroughly satisfied their patriotic curiosity, we were marched off to the State Model Schools prison.”