I retraced my steps. I still had the idea of picking myself up from the hollow where I had left myself. I continued my way, praying for the night to end. With the dawn, I felt I should be able to think clearly again. “Arnum 4 kilometres.” The signposts were German enough, anyway. Arnum, I had made out from my map, lay about three or four kilometres away from the point of the salient where I meant to cross the border. It was nearly dawn and I saw that I could not get over that night. It was getting light as I reached the village. I left the road and struck west across the fields, up on to some high ground. Somewhere in front there was Denmark. I chose a hiding place in some young firs and heather. I was sheltered from the wind and was fairly comfortable. One more whole day! What an age it seemed! I got out my railway map and looked at my position. I could not be more than five or six kilometres from the frontier. Somewhere in the valley to the north-west stretched the line of sentries. I decided to sally forth while it was still light in the late afternoon, take my bearings, and go over at dark. As I lay there I heard footsteps. A boy came by singing and passed within two yards of me. He didn’t see me. Just as well perhaps.... I took off my boots, rubbed my feet down, and had some chocolate. About noon it started raining and went on for about three hours. I got wet through, but welcomed the rain on the whole as it would get darker sooner. I was now thinking quite connectedly, and, it being impossible to sleep, I went over in my mind again and again what I meant to do, and what I knew already about the frontier. I suppose it was about 5 when I started out. I reckoned there would be about one more hour’s daylight. I steered due north-west across fields and marsh land for about three kilometres. Suddenly, to my right—about 400 yards off—the sentries’ boxes came full in view. There was no mistaking them, about 200 yards between most of them, and quite 300 yards between the two opposite me. I plumped down in the heather where I was standing, and watched them. I saw a sentry leave his box and walk about 20 yards up and down. I could see nothing that looked like wire. Only marsh and heather in between.... Looking from where I was into Denmark, there was a farmhouse immediately between the two sentry boxes. I could take my course on that—it would be silhouetted long after dark. I waited till it was quite dark, and then started off, taking no risks—crawling. I came to a ditch with wire on each side of it. This was the only wire I saw. When I judged I was well through the line, I got up and walked to the farmhouse. A tall figure answered my knock. I began in my best German.... He shook his head to indicate that he didn’t understand. I could have kissed him. At last we hammered it out. “_Engelsk Offizier. Fangen. Gut._” He beckoned me in with beaming face. I had made good in just 72 hours. Beginners’ luck!