In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in PolandMorse, John
History
In the Russian Ranks: A Soldier's Account of the Fighting in Poland
Morse, John
World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Poland; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, British
Presently the two men I have mentioned, both of them soldiers of the
Russian artillery, went out, one of them raising his hand slightly as he
passed through the door. I nodded to intimate that I would come. I was
beginning to perceive more clearly what was intended. I followed at
once. As I entered the yard one of the prisoners quietly shut the door
behind me. The sentry began to speak, probably protesting, as I think
only one or two prisoners at a time were permitted to enter the yard.
Before he had well opened his mouth one of the prisoners sprang on him
from behind and clasped his throat; the other threw himself on him in
front and tore his rifle out of his hands. He was lifted off his feet
and held across the knees of one of the prisoners. He could not utter
any sound except a smothered gurgle, but he kicked desperately. I saw
what was wanted of me, and clasped his legs with all my strength. So we
held him till he died.
Then the prisoners acted with the nimbleness of monkeys. One of them
gave me a leg up the wall; I did not wait to see how they got up; it was
a matter of life or death to act quickly. The three of us were over the
wall and in the street in three seconds. I noticed that my companions
had taken off their boots. I followed their example, and rushed up the
street after them. It led out into the open country; and as there was
some moonlight I rushed towards a patch of trees and bushes--a copse, I
suppose. As I entered it I saw that one of the prisoners was already
there. He immediately hid himself, and I did not see him or his
companion again; nor do I know what became of them.
It was a very small wood; of some length, but not more than twenty or
thirty yards wide. It will be inferred, though I have forgotten to
actually say so, that there were lights in the prison-house. I could see
these lights dimly showing through two of the blinded windows: and
farther back I could see a single bright light. Probably this was in the
town; and the town, I suppose, was Janow, which is Prussian, and
situated on the frontier between that country and Poland. But this is
merely a guess, based on the direction my captors had taken, and the
situation in which I afterwards found myself. It may have been some
large village, of the existence and name of which I was ignorant.
Although at the moment all was quiet, and there were no signs of
movement behind, I could not hope that the discovery of our escape would
be long delayed, and I saw the necessity of putting as great a distance
as possible between myself and the enemy without a moment's delay.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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