THE RAILWAY TRACK
_Sunday, 24th June._ Leaving the Weser and travelling westwards for a
mile or so we were exceedingly surprised to find that we had come
close to the river again. For a moment we thought that perhaps we had
got off our bearing, but our compass showed that we were right, and
the stars checked the accuracy of the compass. In reality we had
struck a great loop in the river and our westerly route led us close
to it again.
Crossing cornfields and extensive areas planted with roots of all
kinds, we got thoroughly soaked with dew well above our knees.
Fox and I both suffered considerably from our sore feet, and it seemed
to me that my boots shrank a bit every time they got wet.
It had now begun to get fairly light and the coming day promised well
to be fine. Being a Sunday we had naturally to think of what
difference to our plans this might make. Germans we knew often go out
into the wilder parts of the country when they have a day off, and in
addition to scattering abroad the usual litter which always marks the
presence of holiday-makers in all countries they wander into all sorts
of out of the way places, and by so doing constitute a definite danger
to be guarded against by the fugitive.
Realising this we were desirous of finding a particularly safe retreat
for the hours of daylight.
Leaving the flat country immediately west of the river, we began
crossing an undulating stretch of heath-land, which gave place after
two or three miles to pastureland and corn.
Here it was that Blank, who had been in a prison camp situated in this
district, declared that he knew of a railway running from somewhere
close to our position at that moment.
We decided to try to find it before we hid for the day, in order to
know its exact whereabouts when we moved off that night.
Sure enough we came to a large cutting, and were able to get on to the
convenient road we found waiting for us at the bottom of it without
any great difficulty.
It was high time now to think seriously of a hiding-place. This was
not forthcoming. Instead we seem to have entered a district packed
with farms. This railway track had evidently been made with the
express object of tapping this rich farming district.
At about 4.45 we suddenly became aware of a man behind us, following
along the railway track some four hundred yards off. This drove us up
the southern side of the cutting we were traversing at the moment, and
away across country in a rapid search for good cover. Nothing turned
up to suit us for some time and we were beginning to feel fairly
desperate, as the Germans usually begin to milk their cows somewhere
about 5 o'clock.
At last, after travelling at top speed for nearly half an hour, we
found a thick plantation situated between two farms. Into this we
crawled not feeling at all satisfied with the cover. It proved to be
really dense, which was a blessing, and despite the cold, two out the
three of us were very soon asleep after a hot drink.
We took it in turns to watch here, each doing a two hour stretch of
sentry-go, and then four hours off. These hours of waiting were
fearfully long and tedious, one could not sleep for very many hours,
and then it was a case of sitting still till darkness fell, when
further desire to rest had been killed.
Towards the evening of this Sunday we were again badly scared, by
hearing dogs barking and the reports of shot-guns quite close to us.
Evidently the farmers were trying the hedges and small plantations
hereabouts for rabbits. What if the dogs were put into our copse?
We discussed several murderous schemes. Eventually we thought that the
remaining half of the tinned beef, which was to serve as our evening
meal, might be used with good effect as a means by which any
inquisitive dog's attention might be held while a dastardly attack
could be made on it from behind. Our lethal weapons consisted of a
pocket-knife of Fox's and a table knife of mine. Fortunately the dogs
never came into our copse, so murder was not necessary.
Intending to begin our night's march at 10.30 p.m. we cautiously
worked our way to the edge of our cover and Fox went on to scout. He
came back shortly afterwards to say that we must wait as several
Germans were still strolling about the fields.
It was not till 11 p.m. that the last of them went into a cottage some
four hundred yards away, leaving the ground clear to us. We soon got
back to our railway cutting and continued to walk rapidly in a
westerly direction.
We were now very much in need of water and were fortunate in hearing
the trickle of a small stream which ran at the bottom of the
embankment.
Much refreshed by our drink and with full water bottles we pushed on.
Nothing very exciting happened during the night's march, but again we
were badly rushed for a hiding-place in the morning.
_Monday, 25th June._ Not a sign of anything at all suitable presented
itself. We looked at a new station building, and wondered whether,
could we but get into it, it would prove a safe place for our nineteen
hours of waiting. However, it did not stand the test of our
discussion, so we moved on. It was now a case of going at top speed,
and leaving the railway. We tried copse after copse only to find them
all too open. At last, after considerably exceeding our time limit,
we found an excellent place in which to hide. A small densely planted
copse of trees of the Christmas-tree variety, situated in lonely
fields, seemed to offer as good a place as we could wish, but had the
disadvantage of being near no water.
[Illustration: "EVERY DARK CORNER SEEMED TO CONTAIN A DOG"
(_page 172_).]
The day passed off uneventfully, and we left our hiding-place at 10
p.m. striking the railway track shortly afterwards.
After a couple of hours' hard walking we rested for a few minutes, and
lit cigarettes from the few precious ones that remained to us. It
certainly was rather a risky thing to do, but as we carefully shaded
the match and this part of the track was very enclosed, we did not
fear very much on that score. On proceeding a mile or so Fox suddenly
discovered that he had left the box of cigarettes, with a dozen or so
still in it, on the stone on which he had sat.
He decided to go back, so we remained where we were and rested. Both
box and cigarettes had English words on them, which was the chief
reason of his return to search. Cigarettes with English names, etc.,
would mean "Englishmen" to the meanest Boche intelligence, which would
not take long to develop into "escaped prisoners," and might in turn
spell "search and pursuit."
He returned after being away nearly an hour, without the cigarettes.
They were nowhere to be found.
_Tuesday, 26th June._ Dawn. We left the railway-line at about 2.30
a.m., as it had turned towards the south-west and joined another line.
Striking across country we made good progress until we approached a
road. Here we had suddenly to dive into the nearest cover, as a trap
containing two men drove past.
The spot into which I dived was a patch of stinging nettles with a
hidden strand of barbed wire running through the middle of it! Blank
dived in the open but fortunately was not seen, although conspicuous
enough in all conscience.
The trap gone, we crossed the road and began to think of a
hiding-place. This we did not find easily. Village followed village,
and we could not get clear of this district of farms and cottages. It
had now become broad daylight and we began to feel the desperate early
morning sensation again. All the dogs in the country prowled around
the farm-yards we passed, or so it seemed to us. A barn in the process
of being filled with hay presented its inviting doors to us.
Fortunately, although much tempted, we steered clear of it and
continued our hunt.
Eventually, at about 5.15 we found a small copse of fir trees situated
in pasture land, and were not sorry to get into it. It was bitterly
cold, but we slept quite well.