It wasn’t that they were keeping him in poor conditions. He had food, water, clean clothes, frequent if irregular exercise. But he was confined. He couldn’t leave and go home. Plus, no-one would help him cut the line.
The living conditions were different to anywhere he’d ever stayed before. It was better than the Western Front and he supposed the poor bastards he’d left behind there would be grateful to exchange places with him if they were ever offered the opportunity. He’d be pleased to swap with them now, though. He’d had enough.