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
Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! In a moment they would be in the cellar proper. I
could almost hear my heart beating. The mice scurried across the floor
by the scores, frightened, no doubt, by the vibration and noise made
by the descending soldiers. Some of the creatures ran across me where
I stood between the two wine-cases, but I was too much interested in
bigger game to pay attention to mice.
Tramp! Tramp! "Halt!" Again an order was given in German, and although I
did not understand it, I am willing to bless every word of it, because
it resulted in the soldiers turning right about face, marching up the
stairs again, through the hall, and out of the front door and away!
I could hardly believe my ears. It seemed almost too good to be true
that they could have given up the search just as they were about to come
on their quarry, but unless my ears deceived me that was what they had
done.
The possibility that the whole thing might be a German ruse did not
escape me, and I remained in the cellar for nearly an hour after they
had apparently departed before I ventured to move, listening intently in
the mean while for the slightest sound which would reveal the presence
of a sentry up-stairs.
Not hearing a sound, I began to feel that they had indeed given up
the hunt, for I did not believe that a German officer would be so
considerate of his men as to try to trap me rather than carry the cellar
by force if they had the slightest idea that I was there.
I took off my shoes and crept softly and slowly to the cellar steps, and
then step by step, placing my weight down gradually so as to prevent
the steps from creaking, I climbed to the top. The sight that met my
eyes as I glanced into the kitchen told me the whole story. The water
faucets had been ripped from the sinks, the water pipes having been torn
from the walls. Everything of brass or copper had been torn off, and gas
fixtures, cooking utensils, and everything else which contain even only
a small proportion of the metals the Germans so badly needed had been
taken from the kitchen. I walked up-stairs now with more confidence,
feeling tolerably assured that the soldiers hadn't been after me at
all, but had been merely collecting metals and other materials which
they expected an elaborate dwelling-house like the one in which I was
concealed to yield.
Later I heard that the Germans have taken practically every ounce of
brass, copper, and wool they could lay their hands on in Belgium.
Even the brass out of pianos has been ruthlessly removed, the serious
damage done to valuable property by the removal of only an insignificant
proportion of metal never being taken into consideration. I learned,
too, that all dogs over fourteen inches high had been seized by the
Germans. This furnished lots of speculation among the Belgians as to
what use the Germans were putting the animals to, the general impression
apparently being that they were being used for food.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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