ESCAPES BY NIGHT AND DAY
Unfortunately, not being of a literary turn of mind, I am unable to
write a thrilling account of our adventurous journey across Germany. At
the same time, where in my description I make such a statement as “We
now made our way across country without interruption for four hours,”
the reader must not imagine that we just rushed along without
encountering difficulties, for the way was always beset with some sort
of obstacle or other. Needless to say, we gave ourselves a great many
unnecessary scares; but in our highly strung condition, with all our
senses working at fever-heat, this was not to be wondered at.
The uncertain moonlight played tricks with our imaginations, everything
assuming gigantic proportions. All the forces of nature seemed to be
arrayed against us and to walk hand in hand with the enemy. If a slight
wind rustled the leaves of a solitary tree to our rear, we felt we were
discovered and followed, and must press on, only to fall on our stomachs
again after a few hundred yards, as there was something standing in
front and waiting for us, inevitable, grim, and silent. “Look! he has
moved; it’s a sentry! Did you notice the light shining on his bayonet?”
and so we would creep away to right and left, only to find that our grim
sentry was a large post marking some boundary, and the apparent flash of
the bayonet had probably been caused by the rays of the moon suddenly
appearing from behind a cloud and striking one of its white painted
sides.
To return to facts. The spot in which we were forced to hide, for want
of a better place, was on the edge of a small wood, consisting of a
number of old and rotten trees, with a very thick carpet of decayed
leaves, which, being frozen, made the most infernal crackling noise
under our feet, as we searched to and fro for the best place of
concealment. Being winter, there was not sufficient foliage to enable us
to hide in the trees themselves with any safety. After exploring the
wood in vain, we eventually had to take up our position in a natural
drain running along the edge of the wood. This afforded us very little
covering; a few blackberry brambles and small branches were hastily
snapped off, and pulled in on top of us. By raising our heads a little
above the drain a view of the surrounding country could be obtained, and
the railway line and main road connecting the two small towns which we
had crossed early in the morning were in plain view.
After careful examination of our position, I came to the conclusion that
we had managed to find almost the identical spot that I had planned out
as the most desirable one for the termination of our first trek, as
shown on the map of our railway carriage, both because of its position
in relation to a network of small railways to which we must depend for
direction, and to the fact that it lay almost in a direct line, if
taking the shortest route to the frontier; so that, with the exception
that we had not enough cover for safety, we had not done so badly, and
had in reality made very good progress from our starting-off place the
night before, and, what was more important than anything else, I felt
pretty certain of our exact situation.
At the approach of dusk on the following evening it would be necessary,
according to my prearranged plan, to strike due north for about ten
miles, in order to find two light railroads running west, which bridged
two small rivers and the Dutch-German Grand Canal, and also passed over
the dangerous swampy ground through which our course lay. Could we find
either of these railroads we should again know our position, and by
keeping to the tracks as far as possible make better progress, with the
chance of being able to use the bridges, should they be unguarded.
The reader will no doubt ask why I proposed to take so difficult and
dangerous a route, leading as it did right through the centre of the
swamps. My reasons were threefold. First, because I was firmly convinced
that the Boches would place so much confidence in the natural obstacle
presented by the swamps that any sort of guard would appear superfluous.
Secondly, the country through which we were trying to pass is the most
thickly populated part of Germany. By making for the swamps, therefore,
we should almost entirely obviate the chances of being seen by
pedestrians. Thirdly, because it was the shortest way, which, situated
as we were without food or the necessary warm clothing, would become a
factor of primary importance before many hours had passed.
To return to the early hours of the morning after our first night’s
trek, as we lay half concealed in the drain bordering the little wood
before described. My first feeling was one of intense relief at the
thought of a day’s rest in front of me, for my whole body ached after
the unwonted exercise. I tried to compose myself to sleep, but the
natural excitement of mind caused by the happenings of the last
twenty-four hours proved this to be very difficult, and it was some time
before I eventually dropped off into a troubled slumber, only to wake up
within the hour suffering from cramp and stiff with cold. To make
matters worse, the ground underneath me had thawed with the warmth of my
body, and I was now wet through all down one side. If only we could have
got a good hot meal to take the shivers out of us, things would have
assumed a different aspect. The sound of occasional voices wafted to us
on the wind from the high road before mentioned kept us continually
alert to our danger; but the first real anxiety was brought about by an
old woodcutter who paid a visit to our little wood, evidently looking
for a piece of old timber, and before very long he settled down to work
not more than sixty yards from us. The regular chomp, chomp of an axe
told us that he at any rate had discovered nothing suspicious; but of
course all prospects of further sleep vanished until his departure at
midday with a barrowful of wood.
About this time I for one began to get ravenously hungry, and forthwith
made a meal of a precious piece of chocolate. A sixpenny bar of
Cadbury’s chocolate does not go very far after a long march, but as I
had nothing else whatever it had to do. Don’t let the reader imagine I
greedily ate the lot. Oh no! I took about three-quarters of it,
sufficient for the day, but at the same time I thought with longing of
my improvised ruck-sack and the good things it contained, either lying
on the Bonn-Düsseldorf railway line or elating the greedy spirit of some
beastly Boche.
After the departure of the old woodcutter the day passed fairly
peaceably until about 3 p.m., when the barking of a dog in our near
vicinity “put our wind up,” as the expression goes. Suddenly the
stillness of the wood was rudely broken by the sound of a shot, and we
could distinctly hear the fall of a bird as it crashed through the trees
with a thud to earth, followed by the yapping of the dog as it ran its
quarry down. The hunter then tramped all over the wood, tapping the
trees, evidently in search of more sport, and in so doing he passed
within ten yards of us. All this time we lay with our bodies pressed to
earth in a perfect agony of doubt. As for myself, it seemed impossible
that the hunter could fail to hear the wild pounding of my heart; but
the danger passed, and again silence reigned in the little wood.
Not for long were we to be left in peace. The old woodcutter returned,
and this time he took up his position a good bit nearer than before, and
chopped away hard till nearly dusk, when at last he again went off with
his old barrow. If one carefully analyses one’s feelings and sensations
in moments of excitement such as these, through what extraordinary
vicissitudes does imagination lead one. For instance, in the almost
infinitesimal space of time between the report of the hunter’s gun and
the sound of his quarry dropping to earth I lived a lifetime. We had
been seen; we were surrounded; armed men had been sent to take us; we
would be led back in triumph to the hell that awaits prisoners; and then
the sound of the quarry falling through the trees, the swift realisation
that the enemy is only hunting game and not you, the wild relief and the
bodily demand for a drop of brandy or something to pull oneself
together, which follows after all great mental strain.
About dusk we crept out of our old drain into the shelter of the wood,
stiff with cramp and cold, but with the glorious feeling that so far we
were safe, that we were already twenty-five miles nearer home, and that
another night of swift action lay before us, at the end of which we
would, please God, be still nearer. At 7 o’clock we again started
trekking. Little of moment happened to us during the early part of the
evening, and by 9.30 we had made a good ten miles, and were casting
round for the railway for which we were in search. Our progress now
became very slow; thick white clouds obscured the face of the moon; a
rapid thaw had set in, and our way was barred by a series of deep
rivulets running through an old and decayed wood stretching for many
miles on each side of us. Here we very soon lost all idea of direction,
and decided to retrace our steps as best we could and strike still
farther north.
By good luck we came within a hundred yards or so of the spot from where
we had started before entering this wooded country. Having got our
direction again, we struck north, to find ourselves getting into more
marshy country as we advanced. After having walked for some distance
over wet fields of a spongy nature, sometimes up to our knees in water,
we came upon a small river, which we followed northwards until we struck
the much-hoped-for railway-track that we were in search of, running due
west and cutting the river at right angles, in accordance with my
previous calculation. Making sure there was no sort of guard on the
bridge, we drew ourselves out of the marsh, to stand with relief for a
moment on the firm dry track, before passing over the bridge and
proceeding on our adventures.
Pushing on again, we kept to the track as long as it ran due west, and
within a few miles struck the second river which we had hoped to find,
and thus placed a formidable obstacle behind us. Our exact position was
now known with relation to the network of railways on which our minds
were concentrated. The line which we were now on would run due west for
a mile or two, and then bend southward in a big curve before running
west again, when it would bridge the Grand Canal. Our object was now to
make use of this bridge if possible, but we did not feel justified in
remaining on the line until the bridge was reached, owing to the fact
that, as far as we could remember the map, there appeared to be a
station or siding through which the line ran soon after it began to turn
southward. Accordingly we stuck to the rails as long as they ran
westward, after which we left the track with the very greatest
reluctance, to again plunge into the marsh, maintaining our fixed
purpose of travelling due west whenever possible.
Very soon the sight of our friendly track was lost to view, and we had
not advanced more than a mile or two before we began to consider that
perhaps we should have done better to stick to it, whatever the
consequences, as the difficulties of advancing through the marsh were
becoming more serious as we proceeded. We were now well over our knees
and often up to the waist in water and slime. The moon had unveiled
herself, much to our discomfort, and before very long she was shining in
a cloudless sky, which caused us to call a halt for the purpose of
consultation as to the best procedure under the circumstances. Was it
best to go on as we were? We were doing fairly well, but making a
terrific noise in advancing through the marsh, which was absolutely
unavoidable. Four people cannot push their way through mud and slush
nearly up to their waists without making a disturbance. This was well
enough so long as it was dark. If any of the enemy did happen to be in
the neighbourhood, they would probably conclude that the noise in the
marsh was caused by cattle; but now that we could see almost as well as
if it were day, we could therefore just as easily be seen in turn. The
sight of four men wading through dangerously swampy country in the
middle of the night in close proximity to the frontier in war-time would
raise the suspicions of the most simple-minded.
However, our consultation did not lead to any better results, and we
were losing valuable time. The general opinion turned out to be contrary
to retracing our steps, for many reasons: first, the fear of losing our
direction; secondly, if we did strike the railway line again, we might
be forced to leave it, and find ourselves in the same position that we
were now in. Should we happen to run up against somebody, the
impossibility of finding to what extent these marshes extended to our
right and left, without running grave risk and again losing time, and
many other minor reasons, decided us to proceed as rapidly as the
difficulties of our route would permit.
Within a couple of miles we found ourselves, to our great joy, on the
banks of the expected Grand Canal. When I say banks, we were standing up
to our waists in water and long lush grass, a heavy damp white mist hung
over everything, and we could just see over the other side of the canal,
which was evidently a great deal more swampy than our side. Large
patches of water, unbroken by reeds, gleamed here and there. To swim the
canal would be easy, but to advance on the other side looked impossible.
Accordingly we decided to follow the canal southward as best we could,
in the hope of striking the railway line again, which must bridge the
canal in some place or other in our near vicinity. Hardly had we
proceeded a couple of hundred yards or so, when the expected bridge
suddenly loomed out of the mist.
The natural elation caused by the sight of this bridge was quickly
damped as we approached, for there on the far side of the bridge was a
small black shed. It appeared as if this would be one of those occasions
where we should be forced to take a risk. Accordingly we advanced to the
track with the least possible noise, taking the very greatest care to
prevent any rustling of the reeds in our path, climbed to the track, and
lay on our stomachs whilst we took a cautious survey. After a few
minutes’ reflection I rose to my hands and knees, and crawled up to and
over the bridge, and lay within ten feet of it on the other side, where
I could distinctly hear a gentle snore, that told of some sort of human
inmate; also I now noticed for the first time a very thin wisp of smoke
curling up from the cabin chimney--this we had not been able to see
before, owing to the thickness of the mist. The fellow in the cabin,
soldier or civilian, whoever he was, continued to give out comforting
little snores. Accordingly I signalled to the rest of my companions to
crawl over as I had done, and one by one they succeeded in doing so
without making any appreciable sound, but for me waiting on the other
side it seemed as if each one took a lifetime. But the bridge guard
slept on, and we all crossed with perfect safety, to immediately push
off again down the track with the utmost possible speed, in order to
leave this unwelcome neighbourhood behind.
Now that we had put the two rivers and the Grand Canal behind us, we
felt that we had done a very good night’s work, even if we made no more
progress that night; but it was only 1.30 a.m., and we had at least
three if not nearly four hours before daybreak, in which another ten
miles might be made. As we advanced the land to our right and left grew
gradually more swampy; sometimes large expanses of shining water came
into view on either side of us, and we thanked our stars we had risked
the bridge, as, had we essayed to pass through country like this, our
progress would have become _nil_, even if we survived drowning.
Within a couple of miles the land gradually began to take on a drier
aspect, until eventually dry ground showed on both sides of us. Here we
took a general survey of our direction by the aid of the stars, and
found we were travelling south by west. This had to be corrected, so we
now left the track on which we had made such excellent progress, and
struck off west over dry land, which led us to a series of gently
sloping hills, looking something like the downs at home. Every bit of
available ground was under cultivation, and on several occasions dogs
barked out their warning from small farms which we passed.
The difficulties of keeping direction were now fully brought home to us.
For instance, we would approach a block of farm buildings, and, in order
to prevent attracting the attention of any dogs, we would make a
half-circle round the buildings and strike off west by the stars on the
other side. In this manner we must have dropped a tremendous distance
southward, as was afterwards proved, although we were always travelling
west. It is practically impossible to tell when you have made a circle
round a village or building without sufficient landmarks to guide you,
and at night it becomes an impossibility. We would walk round a village
or other obstacle which we wished to avoid, till it seemed to us that we
had more than half-circled it; but in reality we probably only went
about a quarter the distance round. At one place a dog followed us up
almost to the top of one of these rolling fields, and barked until we
thought he must alarm the whole of Germany. Meanwhile we lay with our
noses pressed to earth; the moon was at her brightest; and we were on
the highest ground, and could certainly be seen from a great distance.
Consequently we did not appreciate the attentions of the dogs in
advertising our presence in the neighbourhood.
In order to avoid the chance of our figures being seen against the
skyline, we crawled over the hilltop until we were well over and down
the other side, which brought us to more plough, ending in a densely
wooded region of thickets, through which we at first essayed to pass,
but found it no easy matter without making a lot of noise, caused by the
snapping of the dried undergrowth through which we tried to force a
passage. Withdrawing from what seemed a dangerous area, we held a
hurried consultation, which ended in our deciding to split up into pairs
and make our way through this region of undergrowth at two different
points, some distance from each other, and meet on the other side if
possible. Should we fail to meet directly, it was no good wasting time
looking for each other.
Anyhow, we were rapidly approaching the spot where we might find it
necessary for the safety of our project to split up into pairs, as four
people are much more likely to be seen than two. And we had no intention
of essaying the actual frontier or its immediate environment at our
present strength, though we might probably attempt it singly or in
pairs.