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 Nüremberg. We would have to skirt this
town--though we discussed the advisability of walking straight into Nüremberg 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 Nüremberg 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 Nüremberg 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 Ausländer" (You are foreigners). "No, we aren't," I said; "we are North Germans on a
walking tour and have lost our way." "Sie sind Ausländer," 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 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, 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 Donnauwörth, 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.]