Colditz (45 page)

It was nearly dark when they reached Tittmoning. They were marched into the prison, another castle perched on a hill, and in the presence of the German
Kommandant
, were introduced to the senior Dutch officers. Giles Romilly could hardly contain himself. Who should he see in the group standing before them but Vandy, grinning all over his face and with the usual devilish twinkle in his eye. Giles was the only one in the British group who had been a contemporary of Vandy in Colditz. The others had all arrived after his departure.

The
Kommandant
of the camp commended the party to the care of the Dutch officers and left them together in order to organize extra precautions amongst the guards. Himmler's orders were clear: German officers responsible for the prisoners would pay with their lives if any of the prisoners escaped.

As soon as they were by themselves, Giles approached Vandy and the two men shook hands warmly.

“I am zo glad you haf come here. Ve vill look after you,” said Vandy. “How strange to meet you again in such circumstances.”

“Tell me how you got to this camp,” said Romilly, “and then I'll give you all the news from Colditz.”

Vandy looked at him. “Come vith me. Virst you must haf a hot coffee and something to eat.”

He led Romilly through the echoing corridors, to a mess-room where a meal was in full swing. They sat down together and as Romilly ate hungrily, Vandy went on:

“I was sent here in January because the Germans thought to get rid of me. I vas a damn nuisance, they said. I vas
Deutschfeindlich
. They knew I organized all the Dutch escapes and zo they sent me here where there are only old officers and many sick ones—none to vish to escape. Zo they thought, but again they are
wrong, vor I haf now some men here ready to escape!” Vandy chuckled with glee. He was looking older and his face was deeply lined, but his eye had not lost its sparkle. “Remember? Wherever there is an entrance there is an outrance!”

Vandy introduced Giles to the officers in the refectory and they talked for some time. Then he escorted him to a dormitory prepared for the five British and the one American, John Winant. The Polish generals were entertained by another Dutch officers' mess in a different part of the castle and slept in a separate dormitory.

The
Prominenten
stayed at Tittmoning for several days.

On Thursday, 19 April, Vandy had news through the German guards, some of whom were in his pay, that Goebbels and Himmler had been seen in cars, passing through Tittmoning at high speed, in a whirlwind of dust, taking the road to the redoubt built around Hitler's Berchtesgaden. On the same day the
Prominenten
were informed they were to be moved to Laufen. There was little doubt as to the implications of this move. At Laufen, out of the control of the Army, Himmler's thugs would take charge of them.

A secret conference was held at which Vandy produced a plan of campaign. He was nothing if not resourceful, but he was not only resourceful, he was far-sighted. He had a method of escape prepared for two of his own officers which could be used in an emergency such as this. This escape could take place the next day, the 20th. He proposed that three officers, of whom one should be Romilly, who spoke German fluently, and the other two his Dutchmen, should escape by his projected route. But he had not finished. He proposed to wall up the other five (including Winant) in a secret radio room which he had prepared for a clandestine wireless set. They would have food and water for a week, and the Germans would think they had escaped with the three.

The
Prominenten
had only to listen to Vandy for ten minutes. They placed themselves entirely in his hands.

20 April was Hitler's birthday. The escape was planned for the evening. Romilly was equipped along with Lieutenant André Tieleman and a young officer cadet, both of whom had come to Tittmoning by mistake, as they were neither elderly nor decrepit, nor sick, nor dangerous like Vandy.

First of all, the five men were walled into the secret radio room with their food reserves. Then, as the moon rose, Vandy and his assistant for the escape, Captain van den Wall Bake, escorted the three escapers to a doorway in the castle from which, one at a time and with suitable distraction of the sentries by helpers in the castle windows, they were able to make a quick dash into the shadows immediately underneath a pagoda sentry-box inside the prison perimeter and
beside an eight-foot wall bounding the castle. On the other side of the wall was a seventy-foot drop to a water meadow. Vandy had the rope. He climbed carefully up the pagoda framework to the top of the wall and secured the rope firmly to a timber strut. The sentry was ten feet above him, on the platform, inside a glass shelter with a verandah around it. Vandy helped Tieleman to mount and then eased him over the edge for the long descent. Dutchmen, in their mess-rooms close by, were playing musical instruments and keeping up a continuous cacophony of laughter, music and singing. Romilly and the Dutch cadet came next. Romilly lay flat on the top of the wall and gripped the rope. As he lifted one leg to drop over, he hit one of the timber stanchions a resounding whack with his boot. The sentry came out of his pagoda and leaned over the balustrade. He saw two men standing on the wall and a third lying along it. He had left his rifle inside the pagoda. He yelled “
Halt!
” and ran to fetch it. In that instant Romilly disappeared over the edge and Vandy whispered to van den Wall Bake, “Quick! Quick! On to the wall.” Van den Wall Bake had not been seen in the shadows. The next moment he was lying on the top beside Vandy.

The sentry had rung the alarm bell and now dashed on to the verandah again, aiming his rifle over the side at the three men and shouting, “
Hände hoch! Hände hoch!
” The Dutchmen complied as best they could without going over the edge down the seventy-foot drop. The guard was turned out, arrived at the double and arrested the three men. The sentry reported he had caught them in the act and had spotted them in time, before anyone had escaped.

They were led before the
Kommandant
, who treated them jocosely, in conformity with the state of the war at that moment.

“How silly of you to try to escape now! What is the point? The war is nearly over. You will be home soon. I have told you that General Eisenhower has issued strict orders by wireless that prisoners are to remain in their camps. They run excessive dangers of being killed by moving about alone in the open country at this time. I suppose you just wished more quickly to see your wives and sweethearts?”

The
Kommandant
was elderly, gray-haired and formerly a retired senior ranking Army officer. He was not an arrogant personality.

Vandy replied in German.

“Of course, the
Kommandant
has divined our intentions correctly.”

“Very well. The matter is closed. I must, according to regulations, hold an
Appell
. I am sorry, but, please remember, it is you who have caused this trouble and not me.”

The whistle blew and the floodlights were switched on. The Dutch officers assembled, and the Polish
Prominenten
assembled…. There was a pause as
the German officers, with horror-stricken incredulity, surveyed the ranks before them. Hurriedly and nervously the count was taken. Six
Prominenten
and one Dutch officer were missing. A second count was taken. The result was the same. It was reported to the
Kommandant
in his office. The elderly soldier's hair rose from his scalp. He sat up in his chair behind his desk. His junior officers were awaiting orders. He would have to give them. He would be signing his own death warrant. He must stall. It was his only hope. He ordered his officers to search the camp at once and to continue until he issued further orders.

Searching continued for two days in the camp. Nothing was found. The
Kommandant
had to report and give himself up. He was arrested, summarily court-martialed and sentenced to death. The order of execution remained only to be signed by Himmler, as being the head of the organization which, under Hitler's authority, had issued the original commands. (Himmler was not easily accessible—he was already in hiding in the mountains—and in the end, the
Kommandant
escaped execution as his sentence was never confirmed.) In the meantime, the search continued desperately, outside the camp. Thousands of Germans scoured the countryside without avail. The Polish
Prominenten
were removed to Laufen. On the fifth day—perhaps information had leaked out, nobody could tell, they began to search inside the camp again, knocking down walls, removing floors and attacking ceilings. Eventually, they came upon the secret hide and unearthed four British officers and John Winant.

This discovery occurred on Tuesday, 24 April. What followed is best told by the Master of Elphinstone himself in a report which was published in the
Times
:

Under very heavy escort we were taken to the internee camp at Laufen. Here the German general commanding the Munich area visited the camp, and in the course of an interview finally gave me his word of honour that we should remain there until the end of the war—a promise repeated in the presence of a Swiss Minister from the Swiss Foreign Office by the German
Kommandant
next day. The latter, however, could, or would, give no information as to the reason for our detention apart from all other officer-prisoners, except that it was ordered by Himmler.

All remained quiet until the fall of Munich, and then, with the Americans once more rapidly approaching, the orders were given that we were to move at once—in spite of promises given—into the mountains of the Austrian Tyrol. Two officers, an S.S. colonel and a
Luftwaffe
major, were sent by Obergruppenführer and General S.S. Berger to conduct us. At 6.30a.m. we entered the transport, with the colonel fingering his revolver,
watching us, together with a somewhat sinister looking blonde woman who accompanied him in his car. This was possibly the most trying of all the moves, as the whole scene had a gangster-like atmosphere. We drove through Salzburg, past Berchtesgaden, and finally stopped at a
Stalag
in a remote valley in the Tyrol. We were allowed no contact with the prisoners, who included representatives of most of the Allied nations, but were isolated in the German part of the camp.

The representatives of the Swiss Legation (Protecting Power), with admirable and very reassuring promptitude, followed us and visited the
Kommandant
within a very few hours of our arrival. Later the Swiss Minister and his staff started on the series of interviews and discussions with the leading German Government figures who were in the neighbourhood. This work, which they carried out with such wonderful patience and success, was of the utmost difficulty, as the leaders were scattered in remote mountain hamlets, and all roads were choked with army vehicles and personnel.

Finally, S.S. Obergruppenführer Berger, chief, among other things, of all prisoner-of-war affairs, agreed to hand us over to the Swiss and allow them to conduct us through the lines. He did this on his own responsibility, and warned the Swiss that other elements in the Government would, if they knew, resist his orders and lay hands on us. He therefore sent to the camp a special guard under an S.S. colonel, armed with every type of weapon, to guard us against the “other German elements” during this final night of our captivity.

Berger himself came to visit us and in a long and theatrically declaimed speech reiterated, probably for the last time, many of the well-worn phrases of German propaganda together with several revelations of the complete break-up of the German Government and people. He then informed us that owing to this break-up he felt he was no longer in a position to safeguard us properly and had agreed to hand us over to Swiss protection. On leaving, he turned, theatrical to the end, to the German officers in charge of us and, having given his final commands, said: “Gentlemen, these are probably the last orders I shall give as a high official of the Third German Reich.” We were due to leave at eleven next morning. The Swiss Legation attaché who was to accompany us in his car arrived early, but for more than three rather tantalizing hours there was no sign of the German trucks which were to take the party, a fact which caused some anxiety in view of Berger's warnings. At length, however, two other trucks were
secured locally, thanks once again to the perseverance of the Swiss attaché, and finally at about 5p.m. we set off, each vehicle draped with the Swiss flag, along the densely packed roads. Accompanying us was an S.S. medical officer as personal representative of General Berger.

At about 11.30p.m. this officer stopped the convoy in a small village in the mountains, saying he had orders from Obergruppenführer Berger to see that we had food and drink in his headquarters here. We entered a house filled with S.S. troops, many of them intoxicated, and were shown into an upstairs room where some food and much drink were laid out. In the middle of the meal the
Obergruppenführer
himself once more made a theatrical entry, played the expansive if somewhat nerve-strained host, and again poured out a flood of propaganda and explanation. After some time he gave an order to an S.S. adjutant, who handed him a scarlet leather case. After yet another speech he turned to me, as senior of the British-American party, and handed me the case, as “proof of his good feelings.” Inside was an elaborately ornamented pistol of ivory, brass and enamel, with his own signature engraved across the butt.

After this strange interlude we set off once more. At dawn we passed successfully through the last German post, and shortly afterwards were halted, to our joy and relief, by American tanks. A few hours later we were most kindly and hospitably welcomed by an American Divisional Headquarters at Innsbruck. It would be difficult indeed for our party adequately to express our gratitude to the Swiss Minister and his staff for all that they did to make this release possible.