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
For the same reason he prevented our quondam guides from helping
themselves to the essentials contained in our packs; for by this time
they had opened them and were enviously fingering our spare boots and
clothing. Instead of being allowed to make off with further loot, they
were now ordered to undo our bonds; after this they went away under
the escort of the black-coated gentleman. He being a representative of
Turkish law, could make his own selection of a souvenir of this happy
occasion, and his choice fell on Johnny's fez. This was to prove a
great loss, and on future occasions when fezes were the order of the
day, Johnny had to wear a khaki handkerchief tied round his head.
Beau Brummell himself remained behind for a friendly chat. He advised
us to make as quickly as possible for the Tchitchek Dagh to the south,
lest the peaceful shepherds should again get on to our tracks and hand
us over to further brigands. By this time he was quite frank. If we
did this, he said, he would undertake to look after them for the next
four hours. (No doubt he also took care of any money they still had on
them.)
As we prepared to take his advice he remarked that we were soldiers
and he had been one too, and that we were therefore friends. He then
went off, waving his hand and saying, instead of the usual Turkish
valediction, "Adieu." That brigand had more of the sportsman in him
than any Turk we had previously met.
The moment the brigands were out of sight we moved away over the head
of the valley in the opposite direction, and keeping a little west of
south, marched for an hour, taking it in turns to carry Grunt's pack.
We saw a fairly good hiding-place in a small ravine. It was a question
of halting and taking the risk of being caught again by the brigands,
or moving on and being almost certainly seen by fresh people; so we
decided to stop. The time was half-past ten.
Let us quote from a diary written that day. "It is now 1.30
P.M., and no one has asked for money for four hours, so
things look brighter. The clouds are getting up, which is a godsend,
as our last night's water-bottle will probably have to do us for many
hours more. The position is this: we are bound to go by the southern
route, as we have thrown away a lot of food. We have no guide, thank
goodness. We have already had to bribe four people, and there is not
much bribing power left. We are likely to be very thirsty in the near
future. In fact, in appreciating the situation it cannot in any sense
be called a hopeful one. Nevertheless, we are still free men!"
During the day we made a chargal to replace one which leaked. For this
purpose we had brought along the sleeves of a waterproof coat, the
remainder of which had been left in the cave when we reduced loads.
Boots, too, in some cases, already needed repairs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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