Four-Fifty Miles to FreedomJohnston, Maurice Andrew Brackenreed
History
Four-Fifty Miles to Freedom
Johnston, Maurice Andrew Brackenreed
Prisoner-of-war escapes; World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, Turkish
Soon after setting out on the following night's march, the accuracy
of our estimate was confirmed, for the map showed a main road not
far ahead from our supposed position, and this as a matter of fact we
crossed within half an hour's trek. Just beyond the road and a little
to the east of our course rose a cone-shaped hill, crowned by what at
first looked like an old castle, but which, on a nearer view, resolved
itself into a natural outcrop of white rock. It was then 7 o'clock. An
hour later we were grateful for the find of a small stream of perfectly
clear water. This was the first we had discovered since crossing the
beautiful valley where we had enjoyed our much-needed bathe thirty odd
hours before.
By this time, however, we had become comparatively inured to a shortage
of water. It was only a fortnight ago that one of the party had
collapsed after a lesser privation. Now we did not even trouble to fill
completely the larger of the two serviceable chargals, although it is
true there were other reasons which encouraged us in this serenity. For
one thing, now that we were on the southern slopes of the Taurus, we
hoped that our water troubles were over. In point of fact, we were to
find ourselves sadly disappointed. Then again, we were loth to put such
a drag upon our speed as a full chargal certainly was, change hands
though it might every half-hour. So far that night we had maintained
a pace of four miles an hour. The meat eaten during the previous two
days had undoubtedly met a very real need, and with the cheese and
chupatties, and the longer periods for rest, had given us a sense
of renewed vigour. Time, however, still passed with the same deadly
slowness. On the first night that we had started taking the chargals
turn and turn about at regular intervals, more than one of the party
had imagined that he had been doing a spell of a full hour, and was
horrified to hear that in reality it had been only half that length.
On this night the moon rose at about 8.30; there was thus a short
period of darkness between sunset and moonlight, and as we should have
a three-quarter moon for the whole of the rest of the night, we could
afford to rest for twenty minutes when the twilight had faded. This was
the more desirable, as we were still in difficult country. The surface
itself was not as bad as might have been expected, for, after all, we
were in the Taurus; but our course was constantly being crossed by
steep nullahs. The climb up their farther sides was very fatiguing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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