The escaping club

Part I Chap

I. Captube . . . i

II. GUTERSLOH AND CLAUSTHAL

III. The First Evasion

IV. What Happened to Kicq V. The Frontier . . ,

VI. Payins the Piper VII. Removal to a Strafe Camp VIII. Fort 9, Insolstadt IX. Captors and Captives X. Attempts to Escape XI. An Escape with Medlicott XII. Short Rations and Many Riots

XIII. A Tunnel Scheme

XIV. The Bojah Case XV. The Last op Fort 9

XVI. We Escape

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viii CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

XVII. Through Bavaria by Night . .199

XVIII. Through Wurtemberg to the Frontier . 213

Part II

I. Arabs, Turks, and Germans . . . 241 II. One more Run . . .... 257

III. To Afion via Constantinople . . . 284

IV. The Round Tour Concluded . . . 300

ILLTTSTEATIONS

PAGE

Sketch-Map of Clausthal ... ^ - 20

Sketch-Map of Fort 9, Ingolstadt . . . 102 Sketch-Map Showing Route of Escape from

Germany . 188

Sketch-Map Showing Plan of Escape in Palestine 210

PAETI

Chapter I Capture

FOR over three months 1 No. 3 Squadron had been occupied daily in ranging the heavy guns which night after night crept into their allotted positions in front of Albert. On July 1st 1916 the S online offensive opened with gas and smoke and a bombardment of unprecedented severity. To the pilots and observers in an artillery squadron the beginning of this battle brought a certain relief, for we were rather tired of flying up and down, being shot at continually by fairly accurate and remarkably well hidden anti-aircraft batteries, while we registered endless guns on uninteresting points. On the German side of the trenches, before the battle, the country seemed almost peaceful and deserted. Anti-aircraft shells arrived and burst in large numbers, coming apparently from nowhere, for it was almost rare to see a flash on the German side ; if one did, it was probably a dummy flash ; and of movement, except for a few trains in the distance, there was none. Only an expert observer would know that the thin straight line was a light railway; that the white lines were paths made by the ration parties and reliefs following the dead ground when they came up at night ; that the almost invisible line was a sunken pipe line for bringing water to the trenches, and that the shading which crept and thickened along the German reserve trenches showed that the German working parties were active at night if invisible in the day time. For the shading spelt barbed wire.

Only about half a dozen times during those three months did I have the luck to catch a German battery firing. When that happened one ceased the ranging work and called up something really heavy, for preference a nineinch howitzer battery, which pulverised the Hun.

"When the battle had started the counter-battery work became our main task. It was wonderfully exciting and interesting. Nothing can give a more solid feeling of satisfaction than when, after seeing the shells from the battery you are directing fall closer and closer to the target, you finally see a great explosion in a German gun-pit, and with a clear conscience can signal " O.K." During the battle we were much less worried by the anti-aircraft than we had been before. For some had been knocked out, some had retreated, and some had run out of ammunition, and in any case there were so many British planes to shoot at that they could not give to any one their undivided attention.

Up to July 16th, and possibly later, for I was captured on that day, German aeroplanes were remarkably scarce, and never interfered with us at our work. If one wished to find a German plane, it was necessary to go ten miles over the German lines, and alone. Even under these conditions the Germans avoided a fight if they could.

Shortly after the beginning of the battle, Long, my

CAPTUKE 5

observer, and I were given a special job. We went up only at the direct orders of our Brigadier and did a continuous series of short reconnaissances as far over the lines as Bapaume and as far south as Cambrai. We had several fights, of which only the last, on July 14th, when we shot down our opponent after a manoeuvring fight lasting about ten minutes, has a direct bearing on our capture. The end of this fight came when, for perhaps twenty seconds, we flew side by side, and at the same time as Long shot down our opponent, he riddled us with bullets, and I was very lucky to get home without the machine catching fire. My machine was too bad to be repaired, and they sent me a second one from the Aviation Park. This seemed a splendid machine, and I can only attribute the failure of the engine, which led to our capture, to a bullet in the magneto or petrol tank, probably the former. Whatever the cause, on July 16th, during an early morning reconnaissance, the engine suddenly stopped dead at 4000 feet. We must have been just N.E. of Bapaume, ten miles over the line, at the time, and I turned her head for home and did all I could ; but there is very little one can do if the engine stops. After coming down a couple of thousand feet I began to look about for a landing-place away from houses and near a wood if possible, and told Long to get out matches. Just at that moment the fiery rocket battery near the one sausage balloon, which remained to the Germans after the anti-balloon offensive of July 4th, opened fire on us, and I had to dodge to avoid the rockets. By the time they had stopped firing at us we were about 500 feet from the ground, and I heard a good deal of rifle fire, apparently at us. As my engine showed no signs of coming to life again, I picked out an open field where I thought we should have time to set fire to the machine in comfort before the Germans came up. I was only up about 200 feet or less when I found we were landing almost on top of a German battery, of whose existence I had had no idea. I don't think the position of this battery was known to our people, but I may be wrong, as I temporarily lost my bearings while dodging those infernal rockets. As soldiers from the battery could be seen running out with rifles in their hands towards the spot where we obviously had to land, and as I much doubted whether we should have time to fire the machine, I determined when I was about 50 feet from the ground to crash the machine on landing. This I managed pretty successfully by ramming her nose into the ground instead of hold her off, and we had a bad crash.

I found myself hanging upside down by my belt. I was a bit shaken but unhurt, and got out quickly. Long was staggering about in a very dazed condition near the machine, and the Germans were about 50 yards away. I got a matchbox from him and crawled under the machine again, but found, firstly, that I could not reach the petrol tap, and in spite of the machine being upside down, there was no petrol dripping anywhere ; and, secondly, that Long in his dazed condition had handed me a box without any matches in it. The Germans were now about 25 yards off, and I thought of trying to set the thing on fire with the Lewis gun and tracer bullets, but I could not find the gun. I think Long must have thrown it overboard as we came

CAPTUKE 1

down. We were then surrounded by soldiers — they were a filthy crowd, but showed no signs of unpleasantness. An officer, whose face I disliked, came up, and, saluting very correctly, asked me to hand over all my papers and maps. Eather than be searched, I turned out my own and Long's pockets for him. In doing so, I found to my horror that I had my diary on me! Why, I can't think, as I was always most careful to go up without any paper of importance, and particularly without my diary. However, I managed to keep it from the Germans, and got rid of it about an hour later without being detected. We walked with the German officer to the Gondecourt road, and I was glad to see as we went away, that the machine seemed thoroughly smashed up. The propeller was smashed and nose plate obviously bent badly ; one wing and the under carriage were crumpled up. The elevator was* broken, and it looked as if something had gone in the fuselage, but I could not be certain of that. Long was thoroughly shaken, and walked and talked like a drunken man. He kept on asking questions, which he reiterated in the most maddening way — poor chap — but to be asked every two minutes if you had been captured, when you are surrounded by a crowd of beastly Huns . . ! I own I was feeling pretty irritable at the time, and perhaps a bit shaken. It took Long several days to become anything like normal again, and I don't think he was completely right in his mind again for weeks. He was obviously suffering from concussion, and I think that he now remembers nothing of the smash nor of any events which took place for several hours afterwards.

About 7 a.m., as far as I remember, a staff car picked us up and took us to Le Transloy. We were taken to one of the bouses and given a couple of cbairs in tbe yard. Tbe place was apparently an H.Q., but wbat H.Q. I could not find out. I bad seen about twelve Englisb soldiers under guard as we came in, and after waiting for about two bours, we were marcbed off witb tbem under escort of balf a dozen mounted Ublans. It was> a pretty bot day, and we were botb of us in very beavy flying kit and boots. Long was still mucb sbaken, and walked witb difficulty ; in fact, I am doubtful wbetber be could bave walked at all witbout my belp. I amused myself talking to tbe guard and telling tbem bow many prisoners and guns, etc., we bad taken. After a marcb of several bours we reacbed Velu, very tired indeed. One incident wbicb bappened on tbe road is perbaps of interest. A woman waved to us in a field as we went by. I waved back, and tbis barmless action was instantly reported by one of tbe guard to an N.C.O., wbo rode back after tbe woman ; but sbe, knowing tbe Germans better tban we did, bad disappeared by tbe time be bad got tbere.

We bad been at Velu for an bour or more wben a crowd of orderlies learnt tbat we were officer aviators. Tbey collected around us and assumed rather a threatening attitude, accusing us of baving tbrown bombs on to a bospital train a few days before. Tbis was unfortunately true as far as Long was concerned, but as tbe train bad no red cross on it, and was used to bring up troops as well as to take away wounded, we bad a perfect rigbt to bomb it, and anybow could not possibly bave told it was a

CAPTURE 9

hospital train. However, this was not the time for complicated explanations, so I lied hard for a very uncomfortable ten minutes. Just when things were looking really nasty an officer came up and took us off. We got into a staff car with him and were taken to Havrincourt to a big chateau — the H.Q. of the VI. Corps, I think.

A young flying corps officer who spoke a little English came to question us. He seemed a very nice fellow, and was full of praise for the audacity of the R.F.C. and most interested to learn that Long had dropped the wreath for Immelmann. This wreath had been dropped on a German aerodrome a few days before, as an official token of the respect which the R.F.C. had felt for a great pilot.

On our journey to Cambrai we had three or four guards in the horse truck with us, but as it was a hot night the sliding door was left half open on one side, and about a foot on the other. If we had made a dash for it, we might have got clear away, but after discussing the scheme I rejected it, as Long was quite unfit for anything of the sort

Some time before midnight we entered Cambrai fort. It Cambrai station I saw a train crammed with German wounded, and there were no red crosses marked on the train. The condition of the wounded in this train was very bad — extremely crowded and dirty.

We remained in Cambrai five or six days, and were rather uncomfortable and rather short of food, but a kind French lady in the town sent us in some of the necessities of life — tooth-brushes, shirts, socks, etc. The sleeping accommodation was not luxurious, but the blankets were not verminous, which was something to be thankful for.

Whilst we were at Cambrai a German Intelligence officer took me to his room and had a long conversation with me. I refused to answer questions, so we discussed the war in general — who started it, the invasion of Belgium, our use of black troops, war in the colonies, about which he was particularly angry, quite forgetting, as I pointed out, that they began it by instigating rebellion in South Africa. He suggested that the Somme was an expensive failure, so I said, "What about Verdun?" Although I made one or two hits, he had his facts' more at his fingers' ends than I had, and I think honors were about even !

]SText day he took Long and myself off in a car and showed us over the Eokker squadron at Cambrai. The two pilots next for duty sat in their flying kit, in deck chairs, by the side of their planes and read novels ; close behind them was a telephone in communication with the balloons, who notified them when the enemy aircraft ventured far over the lines. It seemed to me a pretty efficient (arrangement, but of course suitable only for defensive and not for offensive tactics.

After we had been five or six days at Cambrai, and the number of prisoners had increased to nearly a thousand men and about a dozen officers, we were moved by train, the officers to Giitersloh, and the men, I think, to Minister. I cannot remember how long the journey took — about thirty hours, I believe. I am sure we had one night in the train, and I remember a good feed they gave us at a wayside station. I also remember remonstrating with a German

CAPTURE 11

officer, O.C. train, because lie insisted on keeping shut the doors of the horse trucks in which the men were, causing them to be nearly suffocated with heat. During the journey I was rather surprised to find that we were nowhere insulted or cursed— very different to the terrible experiences of our early prisoners. Only in one station a poor devil, just off to the front in a crowded cattle truck, put his head in our carriage window and cursed the "verfluchte Schweinhunde" who were traveling second class and smoking cigars. After a reasonably comfortable journey we came to the prisoners-of-war camp at Giitersloh.

Chapter II Guteesloh And Clausteal

I BELIEVE the camp at Giitersloh liad formerly been a lunatic aslym. It was composed of six or seven large independent barrack-like buildings. One of these buildings was a civilian camp, and one was a quarantine, used also as a solitary confinement or Stubenarrest prison; another was used as the quarters of the commandant. The ground was sandy, and I should think comparatively healthy and dry even in the wettest weather. In hot weather the heat was much accentuated, but there were patches of small pine trees in the camp which gave a pleasant shade. The camp area could not have been less than eight acres altogether, enclosed by two rows of barbed wire, with arc lamps every seventy yards or so. The prisoners comprised some 1200 officers — 800 Russians, over 100 English, and the rest French or Belgians. We were marched up to the camp through a quiet village, and were put into the quarantine, where we remained for about a week. The morning after our arrival, we were medically inspected and questioned as to our name, rank, regiment, place of capture, age, where taught to fly, etc., all of which questions evoked a variety of mendacious and

romantic answers. We were then put to bed in the

GUTEESLOH AND CLAUSTHAL 13

quarantine and treated with some beastly anti-lice powder —most disagreeable! The food was insufficient in quarantine. We had no opportunity of taking exercise, and were all much bored and longed to be sent into the main camp, which we were told was the best in Germany. This was not far off the truth, as subsequent experience proved the administration and internal arrangements of this camp to be admirable.

^ Originally English, Russian, and French prisoners had lived all mixed up together, but now the nationalities were mainly in separate buildings, and always in separate rooms. In the English building there was a common room in which there was a daily English paper and two monthly magazines, all typewritten in the camp. From an artistic point of view the magazines were excellent, rather after the style of Printer's Pie, and the daily paper consisted of leading articles, correspondence, and translations out of German papers.

The canteen was very well run by a Russian on the co-operative share system, but when I was there it was becoming more and more difficult to buy goods in Germany. I don't think any food could be bought in the canteen, but wine, and, I think, whisky also, could be obtained, as well as tennis racquets, knives, books, pencils, boxes, and tobacco of all sorts.

The feeding in the camp was very bad indeed, the quantity quite insufficient, and most of it almost uneatable. However, we were hungry enough to eat it with avidity when we first came in.

Most wisely the Germans gave us ample facilities for

U THE ESCAPING CLUB

playing games in the camp. There were ten tennis courts, and two grounds large enough for hockey and football, so we spent our time in playing tennis and exchanging lessons in modern languages, for which of course there were unique opportunities. We had two roll-calls a day, which lasted about ten minutes each, but otherwise the Germans interfered with us very little, and I think most of us found the first month or two of captivity a real rest cure after the strain and excitement of the Somme battle. I did^ at any rate.

Long and I had been less than three weeks in this place when all those flying officers who had been captured on the Somme were removed from Giitersloh to Clausthal. Looking back on the life at Giitersloh, one thing strikes me more now than it did whilst I was there, and that is the fact that all the officers, with the exception of a small section of the Russians, had apparently abandoned all hope of escaping. The defenses of the camp were not strong enough to be any reason for this lack of enterprise, and I can only attribute it to the encouragement and opportunities given by the Germans for game-playing, which successfully turned the thoughts of the prisoners from escaping.

Of the journey to Clausthal, in the Harz Mountains, I only remember that it was quite comfortable, and that we arrived at night. The camp was about a mile up from the station, and we were let through a barbed wire fence and into a wooden barrack. For the next eight days we remained shut up in this place, and it was only with difficulty that we were allowed to have the windows open. There,

GUTERSLOH AND CLAUSTHAL 15

were three of these wooden barracks and a hotel or Kurhaus inside the barbed wire. This was the best German camp for food that I was in, and I think it would be possible to live on the food the Germans gave us. After eight days' quarantine we were let out into the camp. Long and I, and a captain in the E-.F.C. who had been lately captured, called Nichol, had a little room together in the wooden barrack. On the whole, life was pleasant at Clausthal. The Germans were very polite, and the sentries were generally friendly.

We passed the time at Clausthal in much the same way as we had done at Giitersloh. If anything, it was more peaceful and pleasant, and the country surrounding the camp, where we sometimes went for walks, was beautiful. The Harz Mountains are a well-known German health resort, so that by the middle of September I was feeling so remarkably fit, and was getting such an overpowering aversion to being ordered about by the Germans, that, encouraged by a young Belgian called Kicq, I began to think very seriously of escaping. When I had been about six weeks at Clausthal I was given details by one of the conspirators of a scheme for escaping from the camp by a tunnel. Apparently two of the party had struck work, and owing to this I was offered a place. I was not surprised that some one had downed tools, when I saw the unpleasant and water-logged hole which was to be our path of freedom. The idea was rather a good one, but it was too widely known in the camp for the scheme to have any chance of success, and after working it for three weeks we abandoned it. In the first place because the tunnel became half full of water, and secondly, because we bad reason to believe tbe Germans bad learnt of its exis^ tence and were waiting to catch us red-handed — a suspicion which was afterwards confirmed. I was very glad, for there were never less than two inches of water when I worked there, and it was a horrible job, as all tunneling is. About this time Kicq suggested that we should escape by train, which he felt sure was possible if we were suitably dressed. I was of the opinion that there were too many difficulties in the way to make it worth while trying, but he eventually talked me over and told me that long train journeys had already been done by Frenchmen. We then decided that we would go for Switzerland, the general opinion being that it was impossible to cross the Dutch border, as it was guarded by electric wire, dogs, and several lines of sentries. It was absolutely necessary to our plans to have a clear start of seven or eight hours without an alarm, and when our tunnel had to be abandoned I despaired of getting out without being seen or heard. Kicq, as always, was ready to try anything, and produced scheme after scheme, to all of which I objected. The real difficulty was the dogs round the camp, and though there were numerous ways of getting out of the camp, in all his schemes it was heavy odds on our being seen and the alarm being given. We both thought it was too late in the year to walk (nonsense, of course, but I did not know that then) ; and where should we walk to, since the Dutch frontier was impossible? As an English major said to me, "The frontier is guarded against spies who have friends on both sides and know every inch of

GUTEBSLOH AND CLAUSTHAL 17

the ground ; how can you, tired prisoners of war, with no maps worth having — no knowledge and no friends — hope to cross ?" I was further discouraged by a rumor that there were new railway regulations about showing passes which would make it quite impossible for us to travel by train. About that time I got into conversation with one of the German sentries, and bribed him with half a pat of butter to allow me to speak to a prisoner who was supposed to be in solitary confinement. At the end of a week the sentry had agreed to help me to escape, as long as the plan did not in any way implicate him. He told me that, speaking German as well as I did, I should have no difficulty in going by train, and that there were no passes to be shown or anything of that sort. I agreed to send 500 marks to his wife if I got away by his help. A day or two later I suddenly saw the way to get out. I was walking round with one of the tunnel conspirators at the time, and pointed it out to him. Then I found Kicq and told him we would depart on Monday. He, of course, was delighted, and ready to fall in with anything I might suggest. For some time our plans and preparations had been completed as far as possible ; money had been no obstacle, as there were many men in the camp who had 20 or 30 marks, German money, and I managed to collect 80 and Kicq 120 marks. He had already got a civil outfit, and I had got a cap from an orderly. We decided not to take rucksacks but a traveling-bag, and I bought just the thing in the canteen.

I was going to take an empty rucksack in the bag so that we could divide the weight afterwards, as we intended to walk the last 40 kilometres, We knew we could catch, a 2.13 a.m. train at Goslar (a small town about 15 kilometres due north of Clausthal), and after that we had to trust to luck to find trains to take us via Cassel to Rotweil, a village near the Swiss frontier. The one difficulty remaining was a suit of civilian clothes for me. There was an English flying officer in the camp whose uniform had been badly spoilt when be had been brought down. In consequence, he bad been allowed to buy a suit of civilian clothes in Cambrai. He was still wearing these ; in fact, he bad nothing else to wear. The Germans bad been most unwilling to let him continue in possession of these clothes, and always bad their eye on them and of course intended to confiscate them as soon as bis uniform turned up from England. This fellow agreed to allow me to steal his clothes. It was a most courageous thing to do, as be would certainly have got fourteen day's imprisonment for it, in spite of the evidence which would t© produced to prove that the clothes were stolen quite unknown to him. As it happened, this theft was not necessary, as I was able to buy a new suit in the camp for 20 marks. It was green, and of the cheapest possible material; the jacket was of the Norfolk type with a belt, and buttoned up high in front at the neck. A black naval mackintosh, some German boots, a pair of spectacles, and a cloth cap completed my equipment. The suit had been bought over a year before from a German tailor who had been allowed to come into the camp to do ordinary repairs. This fellow had brought with him a number of civilian suits, which had been bought up in a very short time. A few days afterwards the Germans got to hear of this, and

GUTEKSLOH AND CLAUSTHAL 19

gave orders that all civilian suits in the camp were to be confiscated and the money would be returned. Needless to say, no one owned to having a suit, and a mild search failed to unearth any of them.

We intended to escape on Monday, because Tuesday morning roll-call was at 11.30 a.m. instead of 9.30 a.m., and if we could get out unseen it would give us two hours more time before we were missed. On Friday I found out that two good fellows, Ding and Nichol, also intended to escape by the same method. We decided that all four of us would try. Naturally it was necessary to go on the same night, and Monday was selected. We tossed up who was to cut the wire and go first, and fortune decided for Ding and Nichol.

*1l? J J^L^UAA^^-uQ J'^ij i j uu ii i i ■ » u u UKJ ^ a.

Chapter III The First Evasion

A BRIEF study of the plan of the camp and its defenses will make our plan of escape quite clear. The sentries are represented hy X, the arc lights by 0> an d the dogs in kennels by " 0." All round the camp was iron wire torpedo netting, with two-inch mesh, about 12 feet high on iron poles. The gardens offered a very suitable hiding-place close to the wire-netting. At "G" was the German guardhouse, and "K" was the kitchen, and Germans used to pass frequently between the guardhouse and the kitchen along a footpath close to the wire. At 6.45 an extra sentry was placed outside the wire at " S," and it was not sufficiently dark to make the attempt till 6.30, so that we had a quarter of an hour to cut the wire and to find an opportunity to cross the path and reach the darkness behind the glare of the arc lights. By far the greatest danger came, not from the sentries, but from stray Germans who used the footpath at frequent but irregular intervals. We agreed to give the other two five minutes' start so as not to interfere with their escape if we were caught getting out, and also to avoid being caught red-handed ourselves if they were seen and chased in the immediate vicinity of the camp. Longer we could not allow them, and even five minutes' delay would give us very little time before the extra sentry was posted at " S." On Monday night all went excellently up to a point. The sentries marched with commendable regularity up and down their beats. At 6.30 the four of us were changed and ready. There were so many different uniforms in the camp, and so many officers habitually wore garments of a nondescript character, that in the dusk we were able to mingle with the other prisoners without drawing attention to ourselves. A minute later Ding entered the peas and began to cut the wire. He had scarcely started when a German walking on the footpath passed a few inches from his nose. Ding felt sure he had been seen and retreated hurriedly. We waited anxiously for a minute or two, prepared to rush to our rooms and change and hide our kit if there were any signs of alarm. Then Nichol went round to investigate, and taking the pincers entered once more into the garden and prepared to cut the wire. The German had certainly not seen Ding in the garden, but how he had escaped being seen coming out, considering the commotion he made, passes my comprehension. Kicq and I had a rapid consultation, and decided that it was too late to escape that night, so we sent a friend round to tell Kichol not to cut the wire, and we all retreated and changed, feeling rather crestfallen. At 6.45 Ding suddenly remembered that he had left his greatcoat in the peas close up by the wire. This was most gallantly rescued by Nichol under the nose of the sentry. The attempt had been a failure, but not a disaster.