In addition, we left a letter supposed to be written by Sweet to me, talking of our proposed route and saying that he agreed we had much better go towards Sivas, and giving a number of villages _en route_. This was supposed to be destroyed, and was to be found by accident by our orderly in a crumpled condition when and not until our escape was fully realized by the Turks. Our exit was to be made from a side door into an alley leading off the main street. This door was nailed up, but, like so many things in Turkey, it was done in a very slip-shod fashion with two boards having only two nails through each. To reach the door, entrance had to be obtained to a back garden, and this meant passing through another door which was padlocked every evening. Investigation proved that, though the padlock seemed sound, the staple might very easily be withdrawn and replaced afterwards. Six officers helped us enormously on the night we actually started. They were Major Corbett and Captain Raynor, 48th Pioneers, Captain R. Lowndes, R.G.A., Lieuts. Dooley, Cawley-Smith and Galloway, all I.A.R.O. Three opened the doors while another drowned their efforts by doing some violent bed repairing in a front room, this necessitating much hammering. The others kept a look-out on the sentries in the road or engaged them in amiable conversation in their best Turkish. It had been difficult to decide which night to start. We had no tables giving the time the moon would rise and wanted to arrange to have a good hour of darkness after getting out. Finally we decided to start on Wednesday night, August 8th, at 10 p.m. Sweet, who lived in the other group of houses, arranged to come to dinner in our mess, being invited by Captain Martin, I.M.S., who not only assisted us in selecting our food but placed his room at our disposal for storing our kit and assembling in just before starting. Our plan was to wait behind the door in the alley until our mess cook, Prosser, should come and tap on the further side to show that all was clear. This man was in the habit of often going out after dark into the town disguised in an old coat, a fez, and a sham beard which he had himself made out of goat-skins. His usual practice was to put the fez and beard on in the road and walk straight up past the sentries. On the night in question he got out in some such way and reconnoitred the route we should have to take to get out of the town on to the hill. Luckily we were on the edge of the town and a climb of two or three hundred yards through houses would take us out on to a Mohammedan graveyard on the hillside. As we were waiting silently in the dark behind the door, somebody gave a kerosine tin a kick, and the resulting clatter seemed bound to bring some one down upon us. However, nothing happened; but a moment or two later we heard a heavy tread going slowly up the alley.