At 5 a.m., finding a good thick copse of small fir-trees, we lay up for a rest. We were now about six miles from the river Ems, which again was some ten miles from the frontier. We decided that the Ems and the frontier itself should be crossed on the same night. Therefore, in order to allow enough time for such a large programme, we must cross the Ems at the beginning of the night; this meant that the six miles which lay before us now before arriving at the river, had to be done before dark. We proposed to move forward at 5 p.m. A good rest and a large meal worked wonders on our tired bodies, and we felt fit for our last great effort by the hour selected. Before moving off, however, we decided to make a "cache" of all our superfluous luggage, taking with us only food for twenty-four hours, with a bottle of milk each as an emergency ration, and the water-bottles. The remainder, which was not much now, we hid carefully in case we failed and had to come back for reserve food. The bag we also left, as that stamps the escaped prisoner more than anything else. We each now had a bundle done up with a coloured handkerchief. The wild country still stretched westwards until it gave place to a wet valley cut up into rough hay-fields and meadows of rank grass. While walking quietly along a rough grass road here, we suddenly saw a cart with two men in it come out of a field behind a hay-stack some four hundred yards from us. Deciding that to avoid them, when they must have already seen us, would be a very suspicious act, we walked straight ahead. When level with them the old man driving shouted out something to us; we stopped and he repeated his sentence. For the life of me I couldn't make out a single word he said. He had a squeaky voice and spoke a vile patois, but it sounded like no language I had ever heard. His third attempt to make us understand something had no more success, but Fox, who hardly knew a word of German, walked two paces towards him and shouted "Yah"! "Yah"! With that we walked off, leaving the old man and his youthful companion gaping at us. We discussed the matter as we walked away, and both came to the conclusion that he had used the word "Landsturm." From this we made up a nice theory. We imagined that the old man had thought that we had been called up for Landsturm service, and were trudging off to the nearest town with our bundles in our hands to join up. They still stood and looked at us, and we had our beautiful theory badly smashed a minute or two later. We suddenly came to the end of the cart-track and found a ditch full of water bordered with a barbed wire fence in front of us. As they were still looking at us, we followed the ditch down for a short distance and then crossed it without hesitation, hoping to give the impression that we knew what we were about.