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
As was his custom, when the orderlies had finished their work, the
_onbashi_ locked the house and kitchen doors. No sooner had his
footsteps died away than the advance-guard of our party set to work to
complete the opening of the wall. It was now about 8.15 P.M.
The work went on quickly but quietly. A few minutes only and the clear
starlit sky was visible through the rapidly enlarging aperture.
Then came another anxious moment. As the two were relieving one another
at the work, there suddenly appeared at the half-completed task the
head of a mongrel dog. One growl or bark would suffice to draw the
attention of the watchmen over the vegetable gardens outside, who did
not hesitate to fire off their ancient rifles on the slightest alarm;
but the dog after one look in at the hole strolled on, and the good
work was resumed.
There was one large stone which seemed likely to give trouble; indeed
it had almost been decided to let it remain, when it suddenly came away
and crashed noisily to the ground. But the sound, if heard at all, fell
on deaf ears--although it must have been at about this very time that
some of the party, still in the house and overlooking the wall, saw a
man standing within a score of yards from the hole.
Their work completed, Old Man and Looney proceeded to screen it from
any one passing casually along, by affixing a square of canvas over
the outside with "blobs" of beeswax. It now only remained to arrange
for the easy withdrawal of the staple of the kitchen door, so that the
latter could be opened from the outside, although padlocked; then,
having donned haversack, water-bottle, and pack, to await the arrival
of the remaining six from this house, four of our own and two of
another party.
When Old Man and Looney had stepped off to the kitchen the other six
of the second-floor mess had remained at table, talking and smoking as
usual. The Turkish corporal taking roll-call reappeared from the room
beyond the dining-room, and was told not to forget the "yourt" for the
next day. "Yourt," a kind of junket, is a staple diet of the Turk, and
most of the prisoners became very partial to it. As it was hard to
come by except through the medium of a sentry, it was their custom to
remind him each evening, so that he might have some faint chance of
remembering about it next morning.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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