Prisoner-of-war escapes; World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, German
Those were not easily to be found in the camp. The clothes received from
France were rigorously kept back by the Germans, and were only given to
their owners when they had been adorned across the back by a wide,
coloured stripe, sewn in the place of a band of cloth which as a
precautionary measure had been cut away. The trousers were trimmed with
yellow braid. In spite of my active search I could not find a coat that
had not been cut.
One day notices were posted on the walls of the Kommandantur asking for
voluntary workers for different duties outside the camp. That seemed to
me an excellent chance for getting away, and I set myself to watch the
notices until I discovered a duty that would take me into the country in
the direction of the frontier. An opportunity occurred. I gave in my
name, and one morning, carrying on my back all my earthly possessions, I
took my place among forty men who were starting off to a neighbouring
forest to cut down trees.
At that time officers were not accepted for these duties, so I took care
to get rid of my stripes.
I could scarcely control my excitement when, as a simple private, I left
the camp which contained many of my friends, and to which I hoped I
should never return. I felt like a criminal. I imagined that all eyes
were fixed on me, and that the sentinels were watching me with special
attention. I tried to look as insignificant as possible.
I should have liked, before setting off, to have in my possession a
watch and a compass, but I did not succeed in getting them. Maps and
compasses had been carefully confiscated by the Germans in the course of
the numerous searches and examinations to which they had subjected us.
My first attempts at wood-cutting were not fortunate, and attracted the
attention of the sentinels and the contractor. I had to put a brave face
on things, and after a few days, when my letters had revealed my rank, I
made no secret of the fact that I was “Unteroffizier,” and that
wood-cutting was not my usual occupation. Then I set myself to win the
confidence of my jailers by talking to them in German. They understood
the motives that had made me take up the work, for I told them that the
camp was unhealthy on account of the proximity of the Russians, and that
it would become still more so in the heat of summer; that I was deadly
sick of the monotonous idleness in which we were forced to stagnate;
that work would be a healthy occupation for a man inclined to gloomy
thoughts; that fresh air and the contemplation of nature would do me
good, and that, finally, in my opinion work was liberty. These reasons
seemed to them sufficient, and from then on we got along very well
together.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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