13 Days: The Chronicle of an Escape from a German PrisonCaunter, John Alan Lyde
History
13 Days: The Chronicle of an Escape from a German Prison
Caunter, John Alan Lyde
Prisoner-of-war escapes; World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, German
Thinking that to move forward at this hour, which is always one of the
most active in the day with the hard-working farmers of Germany, would
be to risk detection, I decided to rest where I was in hiding. I found
a thick clump of young firs within sixty yards of the road and
deposited my lumpy bag down in a place where the moss was thick and
soft. A drink of water followed by a few biscuits and a piece of
chocolate, sufficed for a meal, and then I lay down and tried to
sleep, which I found impossible to do, although I was tired enough.
It was bitterly cold lying still, and my clothes, wringing wet with
perspiration as they were, clung to me and took away all natural
warmth.
I suppose I got an hour's sleep before 11 o'clock, when it got so hot
that it became quite unpleasant in my hiding-place. These hours passed
very slowly and I felt the need of someone with whom to talk. At 3
o'clock I thought I would move forward and try to get up to the bank
of the river without being seen. After crossing the road I proceeded
for half a mile or so before leaving the thick cover which was
plentiful hereabouts and got into a grove of large trees at the side
of a field. Now I discovered that any further advance was out of the
question at that time, as all the fields in front of me were
hay-fields in the process of being cut, and I could see fourteen or
fifteen Germans working at the cutting. I stayed where I was until
about eight o'clock, when I saw that most of the workers had left the
fields and gone home. I pushed on a bit now, making a detour to the
north, and soon saw the main road bridge over the river.
By watching this I came to the conclusion that it had no guard posted
on it, at any rate by day, but many civilians were walking across, and
a hay cart passed every minute or so.
Pushing on again I crossed the main road and got into the thick cover
to the north of it and close to the river. As I was filthily dirty
from the dust storm I thought I would bathe at a safe spot well away
from the bridge, deciding to post myself in the bushes close up to it
as soon as it became dusk. The bathe passed off without incident, and
after all, as it struck me while I was swimming about, what better
disguise could I have than nakedness. If anyone came along I could act
the German very thoroughly, knowing enough of the language to answer
any question while swimming. The bathe was delightful and refreshed me
exceedingly. After dressing I found that it was practically dark, so
set off for my hiding-place close to the bridge. I got safely to it
and lay down in a ditch running through some bushes within ten yards
of the beginning of the wooden structure.
My plan was to cross as soon as it became quite dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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