WE ESCAPE
Towards midnight, after we had shut our eyes for an hour to try and
induce the sentry to go to sleep, I hit on a plan, which I believe now
to have been the only possible solution of the problem. There were six
of us and a sentry in a small corridor carriage, so that we were rather
crowded; both racks were full of small baggage, and there was a fair
litter on the floor. When the train next went slowly, and when I
considered the moment had come, I was to give the word by saying to the
sentry, in German of course, "Will you have some food? we are going to
eat." Then followed five or ten minutes of tense excitement, when we
tried to keep up a normal conversation but could think of nothing to
say. Medlicott had the happy thought of giving me some medicine out of
his case, which came in most useful; but all he could say was, "It's a
snip, you'll do it for a certainty." Suddenly the train began to slow
up. "Now?" I said to Buckley, and he nodded, so I leant across and said
to the sentry, "Wir wollen essen; wollen Sie etwas nehmen?" Then every
one in the carriage with one accord stood up and pulled their stuff off
the racks. The sentry also stood up, but was almost completely hidden
from the window by a confused mass of men and bags. Buckley and I both
stood up on our seats. I slipped the strap of my haversack over my
shoulder--we both of us already had on our Burberrys--pushed down the
window, put my leg over, and jumped into the night. I fell--not very
heavily--on the wires at the side of the track, and lay still in the
dark shadow. Three seconds later Buckley came flying out of the window,
and seemed to take rather a heavy toss. The end of the train was not yet
past me, and we knew there was a man with a rifle in the last carriage;
so when Buckley came running along the track calling out to me, I caught
him and pulled him into the ditch at the side. The train went by, and
its tail lights vanished round a corner and apparently no one saw or
heard us. Whether the sentry saw us get out, neither Buckley nor I ever
knew, but anyhow I think Medlicott had him pretty well wedged up in the
corner. There must have been an amusing scene in the carriage after we
left, and I am ready to bet that the officer shouted a bit.[5] As soon
as the train was ought of sight, Buckley and I walked back down the
track for a couple of hundred yards and cut across country in a
southwest direction. There was no danger from any pursuit from the
train. It was a darkish night, and there were pine forests in all
directions. A hundred men chasing us would not have caught us. Besides,
if they sent any of our guard after us, more prisoners would escape.
Under a convenient hedge we made the few changes which were necessary in
our clothes, threw away our military caps, and got out our compasses and
a very poor sketch map of Buckley's, which was to serve us as a guide
for the next hundred kilometres and more, till we could use our proper
maps.
We were, we reckoned, between 10 and 15 miles almost due north of
Nueremberg. We would have to skirt this town--though we discussed the
advisability of walking straight into Nueremberg and doing a short
railway journey from there before any alarm or description of us could
have reached the place. We had such a long way to go, and so little food
considering the distance. But we could not bring ourselves to risk so
much so soon after getting our liberty. "It is doubtful anyhow," we
said, "whether it would be a judicious move; let's have a week's freedom
at any rate before we take so great a risk." Considering the nature of
the country, we thought we had an excellent chance of not being caught
till our food ran out, if we took every precaution and had no bad luck.
It was so extraordinarily pleasant to be free men once more, if only for
a short time.
_First Night._--This was entirely without incident; we marched by
compass, mainly by tracks through pine forests, and frequently caught
sight of the lights of Nueremberg on our left. Just before dawn we lay up
in a pleasant coppice a hundred yards or so from the edge of a quiet
country road. We took the precaution of sprinkling some pepper on our
tracks where we entered the wood, and thus, to some extent guarded
against stray dogs, we felt pretty secure. The day seemed intolerably
long from 4.30 a.m. till 9.30 p.m.--seventeen hours; the sun was very
hot and there was very little shade, and we were impatient to get on.
Our water-bottles too held insufficient water: we only had about one and
a quarter pint between us, Buckley having a small flask and I a
watertight tobacco tin. Throughout the journey I think it was the
weariness of lying up for seventeen hours, rather than the fatigue of
the six to seven hours' march at night, which wore out not only our
nerves but our physical strength. At no time of any day could we be free
from anxiety. The strain of passing through a village where a few lights
still burnt, or crossing a bridge where we expected to be challenged at
any moment, never worried me so much, under the friendly cover of night,
as a cart passing or men talking near our hiding-place.
The general routine which we got into after about the third day out was
as follows:--We went into our hiding-place at dawn or shortly after,
that is to say, between 4.30 and 5.15, and after taking off our boots
and putting on dry socks we both dropped asleep instantly. This may seem
a dangerous thing to have done. One of us ought always to have been
awake. But the risk we ran in this way was very small indeed, and the
benefit we got from that first sound sleep, while we were still warm
from walking, was so great that we deliberately took whatever risk there
was: it was almost non-existent. Nothing ever seemed to stir in the
countryside till after 6.30. During the rest of the day one of us always
remained awake. After half an hour's sleep we would wake shivering, for
the mornings were very cold, and we were usually wet from the dew up to
our waists. Then we had breakfast--the great moment of the day. At the
beginning rations were pretty good, as I underestimated the time we
should take by about four days. To begin with, I thought we should come
within range of our maps on the third night, but we did not get on them
till the fifth. Half a pound of chocolate, two small biscuits, a small
slice of raw bacon, six oxo cubes and about ten tiny meat lozenges and a
few Horlick's malted milk lozenges--this was the full ration for the
day. We never had more than this, and very soon had to cut it down a
good deal. We varied this diet with compressed raisins, cheese, or raw
rice instead of the meat or chocolate. The oxo cubes and half the
chocolate we almost always took during the night, dissolving the former
in our water-flasks. Later on, when things began to look very serious
from the food point of view, we helped things out with raw potatoes, but
I will come to that later on. On the first day we took careful stock of
our food, which we redistributed and packed; and then decided--
(1) that we had at a guess about 200 miles to walk;
(2) that we would make for the German Swiss and not the Austrian Swiss
frontier;
(3) that we would walk with the utmost precaution and not take a train
or try to jump a train till we were at the end of our tether;
(4) that by walking round Nueremberg we should be sure to hit a good road
taking us south or southwest;
(5) that we would not start to walk before 9.30 in the open country, or
9.45 if there were villages in the neighborhood (we broke this rule
twice, and it nearly finished the expedition each time);
(6) that we would never walk through a village before 11 p.m. if we
could help it;
(7) last, but not least, that we would always take the counsel of the
more cautious of the two at any moment.
A very large percentage of the officers in the fort where we had been
prisoners for the last six months had made attempts and had marched
through Germany towards different frontiers for periods varying from a
few hours to three or four weeks, so that we had a great quantity of
accumulated experience to help us. For instance--contrary to what one
would naturally suppose--it was safest and quickest to walk along
railways--especially if you could answer with a word or two of German to
any one who shouted to you. And there was the additional advantage that
the chance of losing the way along a railway was very small.
_Second Night._--We started from our hiding-place about 9.30 p.m. and
made our way for a mile or two across country and through woods, going
with quite unnecessary caution till we hit a decent road going south,
soon after ten o'clock.
After walking fast along this for an hour or so we were going up a
steepish hill when Buckley complained of feeling very tired. This was a
bad start, but after resting a few minutes he was strong enough to go on
and gradually got better towards the end of the night. From there
onwards it was Buckley who was on the whole the stronger walker, at
least he had most spare energy, which showed itself in those little
extra exertions which mean so much--such as climbing a few yards down a
river bank to get water for both, and being the first to suggest
starting again after a rest. Of course we varied, and sometimes I and
sometimes he was the stronger--and there is no doubt that between us we
made much better progress than either one of us could have done alone.
About 11.30 we got rather unexpectedly into a large village and had to
walk boldly through the middle of it. There were one or two people
about, but no one stopped or questioned us. A little later we crossed a
railway which ran slightly south of west, and hesitated whether to take
it on the chance of hitting a branch line leading south, but we decided
to stick to the road. An hour or so later, however, the road itself
turned almost due west, and we were forced to take a poor side road,
which gradually developed into a track and then became more and more
invisible till it lost itself and us in the heart of a pine forest. We
then marched by compass, following rides which led in a south or
southwest direction.
[Illustration: SKETCH-MAP SHOWING ROUTE OF ESCAPE FROM GERMANY]
I afterwards found out by studying the map that there are no main roads
or railways leading in a south or southwest direction through that bit
of country. Time after time during the first five nights we were
compelled to take side roads which led nowhere in particular, and we
found ourselves tripping over hop-poles and wires, or in private
property, or in the middle of forests. Towards 5 o'clock we were getting
to the edge of this piece of forest, and lay up in a thick piece of
undergrowth, and heather--a very pleasant spot, though we were rather
short of water, not having found any in the forest. The day, a very hot
one, passed without incident, though several carts and people passed
within 25 yards of our hiding-place.
_Third Night._--About 9 o'clock we were absolutely sick of lying still,
and very thirsty. As the whole place seemed deserted we decided to start
walking. We soon found a stream, and after quenching our thirst walked
by compass and hit a main road leading slightly east of south about half
a mile farther on. We found ourselves on the northeast side of a valley
about a mile broad which had the appearance of a marsh or irrigation
meadow covered with rank grass. On either side were hills covered with
thick pine woods. The only thing to do was to go along the road, even if
it did lead slightly east of south. I may say here that we badly
miscalculated the distance the train had brought us north on my maps. We
hoped during this third night to see on a sign-post the name of a town
mentioned on the map which would tell us where we were, and for this
purpose we had learnt by heart the names of all the towns and villages
along the northern border of the map. It was all a question of time and
food, and progress through pine forests by compass was very slow work.
It was therefore essential to hit a main road going south as soon as
possible, and we determined to ask our way. As we were filling our
water-bottles from a rivulet at the side of the road a man and a boy
came by on bicycles. I hailed them and asked what the name of the
village was which we could see in the distance. They got off their
bicycles and came towards us, and the man answered some name which I did
not quite catch. Then he looked curiously at us and said: "Sie sind
Auslaender" (You are foreigners). "No, we aren't," I said; "we are North
Germans on a walking tour and have lost our way." "Sie sind Auslaender,"
he answered in a highly suspicious voice. Buckley said he did not care a
damn what he thought, and I added that just because we did not speak his
filthy Bavarian dialect he took us for foreigners, "Good evening"--and
we walked off down the road. He stood looking after us, but we both had
thick sticks and he could not have stopped us whatever he may have
thought. We walked till we were out of sight round a bend and then,
perforce, as the open valley was on our right, turned left-handed and
northwards into the pine forest.
During the next hour and a half we made a huge left-handed circle,
always with the fear upon us of being chased. Several times we thought
we heard men and dogs after us, and in several different places we
covered our tracks with pepper. It was a thoroughly unpleasant
experience, but about 11.30 we felt sure we had thrown off any pursuers
and determined to walk in the right direction. We should have done this
before, only the valley lay right across our path. We struck a high road
leading almost south, and soon afterwards found ourselves entering a
village. It was a long, straggling village, and before we were half-way
through dogs began to bark. We hurried on and got through without seeing
any men. After a mile or two the road turned almost east, and we
suddenly found ourselves on the same old spot where we had spoken to the
man. We kept on down the road and avoided the next village by an awful
detour through thick pine woods and over very rough country, and then
hitting the road again we crossed to the southwest side of the valley
and made good progress along pathways and tracks in an almost southerly
direction.
At every sign-post Buckley used to stand on my shoulders, and with the
help of a match read out the names and distances whilst I took them down
for comparison with my map in the day time. About 2 o'clock we cut at
right angles into a main road going east and west. I insisted on taking
this, arguing that we had already marched too much east and that our
only chance of hitting a south-leading road lay in marching west till we
hit one. After a short time the road turned south and we made excellent
progress till 5 o'clock, when we passed through a village in which we
dared not stop to examine the sign-post, and lay up on a wooded hill on
the south of it. Only one incident frightened us a good deal. It was
getting towards morning when we saw a man with a gun approaching us
along the road. However, he passed with a gruff "Good morning," which we
answered.
We found ourselves when morning came, in an almost ideal spot for "lying
up," and could sit in safety at the edge of our coppice and see the
country for miles to the east of us. I was lying there studying the map,
hoping, in vain as it proved, to find on it some of the names which we
had taken down from sign-posts, when it suddenly occurred to me that the
valley at which we were looking fitted in very well with one of the
valleys on the northern edge of the map. After prolonged study we were
unable to decide for certain--there were some annoying discrepancies;
but "the wish is father to the thought," and we thought we were right.
The next night's march would decide, anyhow. If we marched southwest
through a pine forest for about an hour we would hit a road and a
railway and a river all together, and then we would know where we were;
and if we did not hit them, we should know we were still lost.
_Fourth Night._--We started about 9.45, having learnt our lesson from
the previous night, and after walking through a forest for over an hour,
without coming across the desired road, river, and railway, we found
ourselves falling over things like hop-poles with wires attached, and
running up against private enclosures, and still in the middle of an
almost trackless forest. Several times we had anxious moments with
barking dogs. When we got clear of these my temper gave way and I sat
down, being very tired, and cursed everything I could think of--forests,
hop-poles, dogs, the roads, and Buckley. Buckley recovered himself
first, telling me "not to be a fool," and we struggled on once more.
From that night on we swore we would stick to the roads and have no more
cross-country walking. I seem to remember that we zigzagged all over the
place that night, always keeping to the roads, however, and walking
fast. After midnight we came through several villages and started the
dogs barking in each one. Once a man came out with a light and called
after us; we said "good night" to him and pushed on, but it was most
trying to the nerves. My God, how we loathed dogs! Later we came on a
valley in which was a river 20 yards, or more broad. Our road passed
through a village at a bridge-head, from which came sounds of revelry
and lights were showing; so we turned off, and instantly got into the
middle of a perfect network of hop-poles. Eventually we found a bridge
lower down near an old mill. There was a road running parallel with the
river on the far side, and something above it which on investigating
turned out to be a railway. The question was, "Is this the valley we are
looking for?" It soon turned out that it was not. The direction which
the line took after we had followed it eastwards for several miles
decided the question, and after going a mile out of our way back to the
river to get water, we took a good road leading south. We were both very
tired, and struggled on, with great difficulty and several rests, up a
steep hill through the longest village I have ever seen. It seemed miles
and miles, and dogs barked the whole way. The villages about here had
drinking-troughs for horses at the street sides, which were a great boon
to us.
Soon after dawn we got into an excellent hiding-place without further
adventures. We were very exhausted, and were beginning to feel the lack
of food. The cross-country marches of the last two nights had been a
heavy tax on our strength. We were not yet on our maps, and the most
moderate estimate of the distance from the Swiss frontier, when
considered in relation to our food supply, made it necessary to cut down
our ration very considerably from this time onwards. We were much
worried during that day by shooting which went on in the wood round us.
It is the German habit to go out shooting for the pot on Sundays, and
many escaping prisoners had been recaught in this way. We had to lie
consequently most of the day with our boots on, prepared to bolt at any
moment. However, our hiding-place was good, and though men and carts
passed close to us, I don't think we ran much risk of being found.
_Fifth Night._--The first village we came to lay across a stream in the
middle of a broad and marshy valley. It was about 11 o'clock, and as we
approached we heard sounds of music, singing, and laughter coming from
the village. It was Sunday night, and I suppose there was a dance on or
something of the sort--it was too much for us at any rate, and as there
seemed no way round owing to the river, we sat down in a clump of trees
outside the village and waited. About 11.30 the sounds died down and
just before 12 o'clock we got through the village without mishap, though
we passed two or three people. We were making excellent progress along a
good straight road which ran, for a wonder, in the right direction, when
suddenly we heard a whistle from the woods on our left and ahead of
us--the whistle was answered from our rear. We are fairly caught this
time, we thought, but we walked steadily on. We had big sticks and the
woods were thick at the sides of the road. There were more whistles from
different sides, and then just as we were passing the spot where we had
heard the first whistle a line of men came out of the woods in Indian
file and made straight for us. There were ten or twelve of them trotting
in a crouching attitude. They passed a yard or two behind us, crossed
the road, and disappeared into a corn field on the other side. "Boy
scouts, begorra," said Buckley. "I wish we were well out of this," I
said. "I hope to heaven the little devils won't make it part of the
night operations to arrest every one coming down that road. If we have
to knock out some of them, the villagers would murder us; and we should
never shake them off, once they had an inkling of what we were; I would
rather tackle men any day." Buckley agreed heartily, and we walked on
fast. Several times afterwards those cursed whistles sounded, but we
gradually left them behind.
At last we hit a railway, running east and west, of course. Our road
here took a right-angle turn and ran beside the railway, and we were
compelled to take a much worse road leading uphill among trees. The road
gradually got worse. We soon recognized the symptoms. How often in the
last few days had we followed roads which degenerated by slow degrees
and ended by entangling us in hop-poles and private gardens in a forest!
A quarter of an hour later this one proved itself to be no exception to
the rule. Buckley was all for pushing on by compass through the forest.
I absolutely refused, and after some argument we decided to retrace our
steps to the railway and follow it westwards. This we did, and after
walking several miles along the railway we took a good road which ran
north and south, cutting the railway at right angles. After walking for
an hour or more along this road we came to a milestone which, as usual,
we inspected carefully. On it were the words: _Gunzenhausen, 8
Kilometres_. We could have shouted for joy. Gunzenhausen was marked on
the northern edge of my map. We knew where we were.
It is impossible to describe what a difference this knowledge made to
us. For the last three days we had been oppressed by the feeling that we
were lost, that we were walking aimlessly, that we were continually on
the wrong road and using up our food and strength in making detours. For
the future we would know that every step we took would be one step
nearer the frontier, and during the day we could lie and plan out our
route for the following night--we could make fairly accurate
calculations with regard to food--in fact, the whole problem of distance
and food supplies was now clear and simple, and we had some chocolate to
celebrate the occasion. At the next village we saw by a sign-post that
the road to Gunzenhausen turned almost due west. I wished to go straight
on southwards down a decent road, but Buckley wished to go for
Gunzenhausen, the only name which we knew as yet. After a rather heated
argument I gave way. Our tempers were rather irritable, but we were
never angry with each other for more than five minutes, and as soon as
we had recovered our tempers we used to apologize. We almost walked into
a sentry in Gunzenhausen before we knew we were in the town. However, we
retreated, and making a short detour lay up in a small oak wood about 3
miles south of the town, having accomplished that night a very good
march. The place where we were hiding was by no means an ideal spot, as
the undergrowth was not very thick. It was rather an anxious day, as we
again heard shooting in the woods in the neighborhood, but no one
disturbed us. After a careful study of the map we found that, by cutting
across in a southwest direction about five miles of flat, low-lying
country, we would hit a railway which went due south to Donnauwoerth,
about 60 miles away.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 5: I have learnt since from Major Gaskell that nearly a minute
elapsed before the sentry realized that we had departed. After the
discovery there was a good deal of ill-feeling, which was accentuated by
two Russians escaping in much the same manner an hour later, but they
were recaptured.]