"Last night I waited until there was not a sound overhead.... I knew
it would be taking chances--but I HAD TO GET WATER.... We could
no longer survive on MUD!... I began pushing against the planking
overhead to see if there was anywhere an opening, but every plank
I pressed against seemed as solid as a stone sidewalk.... Finally
I began thumping with my clenched fist ... and this brought on the
fracas.... I heard a heavy pair of feet bounding on the floor directly
above my head.... Then there was a scraping and a sound like the
tearing up of carpets.... Presently I heard an iron bolt crack back
and the floor above my head began rising slowly until I found myself
looking into the muzzle of a Mauser held in the clenched hands of a
tall square-faced man with a jaw like a prize fighter....
"... Another pair of hands reached down and caught me by the collar
and I was yanked like a squirming spaniel out of my hole into a large
oblong room that was only slightly lighted by a blue student lamp upon
a small roll-top desk.... Against the wall was a large steel engraving
of King George of England, and I could see the Union Jack displayed
upon another wall.... There were papers and documents and army tents
in piles here and there round the room.... BUT THE IMPRESSION THAT
FLASHED UPON ME was not at all reassuring for a man who had made
his way into SUCH surroundings directly from the other underground
corridor in Berlin!..."