Outwitting the Hun: My Escape from a German Prison CampO'Brien, Pat
History
Outwitting the Hun: My Escape from a German Prison Camp
O'Brien, Pat
Prisoner-of-war escapes; World War, 1914-1918 -- Prisoners and prisons, German
"Very well," I said; "I've gone without food for many hours at a time
before and I suppose I shall be able to do so again. I shall look for
you to-morrow evening."
The next evening he came and I accompanied him to another house not
very far from the one in which I had been staying and not unlike it in
appearance. It, too, was a substantial dwelling-house which had been
untenanted since the beginning, save perhaps for such occasional visits
as Huyliger and his associates made to it.
Huyliger let himself in and conducted me to a room on the second floor,
where he introduced me to two men. One, I could readily see by the
resemblance, was his own brother. The other was a stranger.
Very briefly they explained to me that they had procured another
passport for me--a genuine one--which would prove far more effective
in helping to get me to the frontier than the counterfeit one they had
manufactured for me.
I think I saw through their game right at the start, but I listened
patiently to what they had to say.
"Of course, you will have to return to us the passport we gave you
before we can give you the real one," said Huyliger's brother.
"I haven't the slightest objection," I replied, "if the new passport is
all you claim for it. Will you let me see it?"
There was considerable hesitation on the part of Huyliger's brother and
the other chap at this.
"Why, I don't think that's necessary at all, Mr. O'Brien," said the
former. "You give us the old passport and we will be very glad to give
you the new one for it. Isn't that fair enough?"
"It may be fair enough, my friends," I retorted, seeing that it was
useless to conceal further the fact that I was fully aware of their
whole plan and why I had been brought to this house. "It may be fair
enough, my friends," I said, "but you will get the passport that I have
here," patting my side and indicating my inside breast pocket, "only off
my dead body!"
I suppose the three of them could have made short work of me then and
there if they had wanted to go the limit, and no one would ever have
been the wiser, but I had gone through so much and I was feeling so mean
toward the whole world just at that moment that I was determined to sell
my life as dearly as possible.
"I have that passport here," I repeated, "and I'm going to keep it. If
you gentlemen think you can take it from me, you are welcome to try!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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