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
We were at the time within a few hundred yards of a large flock of
sheep; but a rainstorm was brewing, and the shepherds were far too
occupied with getting their sheep together to worry about our presence.
We were thus able to fill up all water-vessels undisturbed. After
this we went back to some broken-down stone enclosures which we had
previously passed. One of these, about ten feet square, we reached at
8 A.M., having collected little twigs and dried weeds as we
went. We now had concealment from view and a little shelter from the
wind, but not from the rain, which soon began to fall and continued
in heavy squalls until late in the afternoon. Every now and then the
officer of the watch peeped over the wall to see that no one was
approaching. That day, however, we saw nothing but the flocks and some
men with camels, who came over the hills where we had been at dawn
but did not come our way. At intervals we regaled ourselves with tea
and brews of rice and cocoa, or rice and Oxo. Of rice we had almost a
superfluity compared with other food, owing to the number of days on
which we had been unable to cook. But the hot food and drink did not
suffice to keep us warm: every shower left us shivering like aspen
leaves.
Even opium proved no longer effectual, though probably to it and to
liberal doses of quinine is attributable the fact that none of us
suffered from chill or fever after our exposure on that day.
Late that afternoon the sun appeared for a time, enabling most of us
to snatch a little sleep. This was what was needed more than anything
else. Much refreshed, we left our rude shelter at 6 P.M., and
hurriedly refilling our water-bottles at the well, continued across the
valley. Within an hour we were lying at the top of the low ridge on
its southern side. From here we overlooked the bare plain stretching
to the marshes near Eregli, and thought we saw the reflection of water
in the Ak Gueul. When six hours later, and after covering seventeen or
eighteen miles, we reached the lake, it was to find that it was dry,
and that it had been only the white salt-encrusted basin that we had
seen. There was nothing to do but carry on. Besides the need of water
to keep us moving, an icy wind blew without respite upon our backs,
making even the short hourly halts a misery. Secondly, we had on the
previous day checked our food supply, and calculated we had only enough
for another four days at the most. Meanwhile, there still remained the
Taurus range to be crossed.
We therefore pushed ahead, and were soon fighting our way through thick
reeds. The struggle continued for two hours, and so exhausted us that
towards the end we had to halt for a few minutes and eat the biscuit
which was part of the coming day's ration.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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