Great Escapes (29 page)
After gingerly washing his face, he washed his feet and wrapped his tattered socks around the cuts as best he could. Brushing down his uniform he looked reasonably presentable and then the woman placed a steaming plate of soup on the table followed by another plate with bacon and potatoes. Inviting him to sit down, Leslie needed no second invite and quickly ate all that was put in front of him. After the meal the farmer produced a black cigar which he offered to Leslie. Lighting up the cigar Leslie offered the man some of his cigarettes which they both sat down and enjoyed.
Noticing sleep slowly overtaking his guest, the farmer indicated to Leslie to make himself comfortable in the chair and get some sleep, within minutes Stuart Leslie was fast asleep. The farmer returned at dusk and Leslie awoke. After a bowl of hot soup, Leslie spread his escape map on the table and established where he was – in the middle of Flanders. He then asked if there were any Resistance organisations in the area, at which the old man became very nervous and indicated that there was none. He also indicated that the Germans were very active in the area. Stuart Leslie realised that he had to move on as he was putting the lives of the farmer and his wife at risk. He thanked the farmer and his wife for their hospitality and limped out into the darkness. He still had no shoes on because there was no spare clothing available.
Heading towards the river, Leslie hoped to get a ride on one of the barges that plied up and down. Reaching an area where there were a number of barges moored, he looked to see if there were any of the bargees about. Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted a figure and realised that it was a German sentry. The man looked directly at Leslie and then turned away. For one moment Stuart Leslie’s heart stopped but then realised that the battledress he was wearing was similar to that worn by the barge crewmen and in the dark they looked the same.
He decided to keep walking and came across another haystack in a field. By this time his feet were wet, bleeding and numb with the cold. Curling up in the straw he quickly dozed off. He awoke to the warm sun streaming in through the straw and a feeling of despair was starting to gnaw away at him. He spent the day scanning the surrounding fields for locals, but it wasn’t until the evening that he spotted a young man leading a horse down a lane close to the haystack.
Deciding it was now or never, Leslie got to his feet and staggered out into the lane. Greeting the man in his halting, schoolboy French, he asked for help, stating that he was an RAF flier. The young man looked at him very carefully, taking in the RAF uniform and indicated for him to stay where he was. Stuart Leslie crouched down in the undergrowth and waited. About thirty minutes passed before the young man appeared again, this time accompanied by a much older man and a young woman. They talked about him excitedly in Flemish, before indicating that he should follow them.
On reaching the farmhouse, he was greeted warmly by the farmer’s elderly wife and another young man, obviously the brother of the young man he had first met. They first attended to the cut on his forehead and then his raw blistered feet and then produced a simple but wonderful hot meal. However, having experienced the previous farmer’s lack of knowledge regarding Resistance organisations, he didn’t hold out much hope for any help in that direction. What he did require were some clothes and shoes. He explained his predicament as best he could and produced a bundle of French francs. The farmer pushed it back at him with an angry shake of his head and Leslie felt embarrassed feeling that he had insulted the man.
They produced a pair of blue overalls and a selection of old boots, none of which were his size. Selecting a pair that was slightly larger than his size, he eased his feet gingerly into them and stood up. As he did so, there was a knock on the door and suddenly the younger brother entered the room followed by two elegant and aristocratic-looking young ladies. In perfect English one of them said, ‘Hello, how are you. We are friends and are here to help you.’ They then produced a bottle of English Gin and a first aid kit. The feeling of relief that spread over Stuart Leslie was almost indescribable.
It appeared that the younger brother was also a courier for the Resistance and had contacted another member, who in turn had made the arrangements. The two young ladies had brought with them some civilian clothes, but wanted everything that would identify Stuart Leslie as an evading airman, including his dog tags. One of the girls looked at the cuts to his head and feet and then gave him the clothes to change into.
After saying goodbye to the family, Stuart Leslie followed the two young women out of the house and into the town. Following at a discreet distance he walked nervously through the town, almost rubbing shoulders with German soldiers. The two women approached a large chateau on the edge of the town and went in. Stuart Leslie followed and entered into a luxurious house, where the girls identified themselves as Alice and Elizabeth van Wassenhove. They lived in Brussels and this was their family’s country home.
They showed him to their father’s room, where a pair of silk pyjamas was laid out on the bed. He was then taken to the dining room, which was laid out in silver service and he enjoyed a steak with all the trimmings. Stuart Leslie looked at the two girls and found it hard to imagine that these two young ladies worked with the Resistance. After dinner he excused himself and slipped into bed and within minutes was fast asleep.
The sun streaming in through the windows awoke him and this was followed shortly afterwards by a tap on the door. Elizabeth and Alice entered with a tray and while he ate breakfast they told him that their mother was arriving later in the day and then they would make arrangements for him to be moved on down the line. He was told that he must not go out, as there were many Germans in the town. That evening Mme van Wassenhove arrived and explained that they would have to get him an identity card from Brussels, but under no circumstances must he go out or be seen, as there were a number of collaborators in the area. She then took some photographs of him and left for Brussels.
For the next few weeks Stuart Leslie relaxed in comfort and waited for word from Brussels. In the evenings he walked in the garden with either or both of the young women. Then on the morning of 25 May, almost one month since he parachuted out of his aircraft, word came to move him on. He and Elizabeth cycled all day through picturesque countryside, arriving in Brussels late that evening. At a pre-arranged point a car arrived to pick them up and took them to the apartment of two nurses. Here Elizabeth said goodbye, then told him that none of his crew had survived and all had been buried in the town of Oudenaarde. Stuart Leslie said his goodbyes, which seemed to him to be totally inadequate for what they had done.
The next day a member of the Resistance came to see him and asked him to fill out a questionnaire so that the Air Ministry in England could identify him. Once that had been verified, it was decided to move him on again and a young teenage boy and his sister called to collect him. He was taken by tram to the outskirts of Brussels where his next contact waited for him at a busy road junction. The man identified himself as the editor of an underground newspaper,
Libre Belgique,
copies of which he carried inside another newspaper.
The two men took another tram ride to the other side of the city where Leslie was taken to a small café. Inside he was introduced to the owner with the words,
‘Un parachutiste anglais Monsieur Leslie.’
To which she replied in almost perfect English, ‘How are you Mr Leslie,’ holding out her hand in greeting. Leslie was taken into the back room where he was introduced to her husband, a heavily-built man who answered to the name of ‘Churchill’ because of his resemblance to him and his love of large cigars.
They explained that their reason for helping allied airmen trying to get back to England was because during the First World War they had been forced to flee to England and this was their way of repaying the kindness they were shown whilst there. That night two members of the ‘White Army of Belgium’, the activist section of the Resistance, suddenly arrived in a panic. They had been on an assignment to assassinate a Belgian collaborator and were now being hunted by the Gestapo after the third member of their team had been captured and tortured to make him talk. It was decided to move Leslie as quickly as possible and within an hour a young lady by the name of Madeline, arrived to take him to another safe house.
That evening, the Gestapo raided the café and arrested the owners. Whilst searching the premises, the Gestapo found numerous names and addresses and a large number of arrests were made, including the young teenage boy and his sister, who had helped him earlier. The escape chain had in effect been broken, which left Stuart Leslie in no man’s land. The elderly couple, with whom he had been left, was understandably frightened and it was obvious that he could not stay with them.
Despite the setback the Resistance still managed to function and the following morning a man called to reassure him that they were going to move him on that day. Later a knock on the door revealed a woman who invited him to go with her. The two of them left and walked through the centre of Brussels where, on reaching a park, Stuart Leslie waited whilst his companion went away. With German soldiers walking about, the tension was almost unbearable and every time one of them even glanced in his direction, his heart leapt into his mouth and he waited for to be challenged.
The woman returned saying that she could find no one who would take him in, so she was returning him to the elderly couple. His greeting by the couple was less than convivial, though they agreed to let him stay one more night but he must leave in the morning. No one got much sleep that night; everyone was waiting for the knock on the door that would herald the arrival of the Gestapo.
The following morning the couple packed him some sandwiches and a bottle of beer and wished him good luck. He had agreed to meet the woman again in the park but her arrival didn’t bring any good news. She had one last hope and that was with a friend of hers. The two of them made their way to a large building, which to Stuart Leslie’s total shock turned out to be the headquarters of the German Commandant of Brussels. Stuart Leslie sat on a bench opposite and watched with a degree of incredulity as high-ranking German officers with large briefcases went in and out of the building.
When his companion suddenly emerged from the building he followed her to a fashionable café that was obviously patronised by people from the Commandant’s office. The woman purchased a copy of the German magazine
Der Signal,
which Leslie thought was a clever touch considering the number of German officers in the café. They sat down at a table and before they could order, a tall, elegant woman approached them and exchanged greetings with his companion. She then indicated that they leave with her and they followed her to another café, where they selected a table in the far corner and ordered coffee.
As they sipped their coffees, a short, thickset man joined them and introduced himself to Stuart Leslie as Guy Schouppe. He looked at Leslie and said, in a low voice and in perfect English, ‘You have become something of a liability Mr Leslie. However my wife Louise will take you and your friend to our apartment whilst I find out what is to be done with you.’
Their apartment was situated opposite a Red Cross building and a church in the fashionable suburbs of Ixelles. He was shown round by Louise and then taken to the bathroom. She pointed out her husband’s closet and told him to try and find something that might fit.
That evening as they sat down to dinner, the conversation seemed totally surreal as they all chatted in English and afterwards listened to the BBC. Stuart Leslie spent the next three days relaxing and waiting for news to come regarding his next move. Gestapo raids were still continuing so it was decided to move him into the country where he stayed with an elderly couple in a small village. Louise had accompanied him and told everyone in the village that he was recovering from an accident and only spoke Flemish.
Two days later the door of the cottage was flung open and a slightly hysterical Louise shouted, ‘It’s come … the landings … the invasion … the Allies have landed in France!’ Her husband Guy arrived and explained that the Resistance was up and running again and the escape line was being put back together. The Germans were now on a full invasion alert as the allied troops swept inland and as the Germans retreated en masse. It was decided to take him back to Brussels, as it was easier to hide him in a city rather than in a small town.
The following evening the three of them returned to Brussels by train and were met at the station by a member of the Belgian secret police, who also happened to be a member of the Resistance. He was taken to safe house in the suburb of Andrelect. On his arrival he was pleasantly surprised to find three other evaders there – an American, a Canadian and an Englishman.
In the meantime the Resistance had discussed plans for keeping the evaders in Brussels until it was liberated, but it was realised that that was not going to be imminent and so it was decided to move them on down the chain and into France. At the end of June, Leslie was told that he was being moved and a woman arrived to escort him to a rendezvous point outside the city where a small truck was waiting. The driver was dressed in a smart, grey suit and told him that their destination was Namur.
As they set off down the road, Leslie saw numerous people hitchhiking and the driver stopped to pick up as many as he could. He explained to Leslie that as there were very few private vehicles on the road it would look strange if he didn’t pick up people and give them a lift and the German Field Police were always watching out for this. If they were stopped, because of the number of passes and identity cards they had to look at, any discrepancies would easily be missed.
Their first test came when they were carrying a full load of hitchhikers; they were stopped at a checkpoint. Ordered out of the truck by the soldiers, the group presented their documents. It was then that Leslie noticed that they were different to the Germans he had seen in Brussels; these had darker uniforms, although covered in dust and dirt, and on their collars he saw the lightning flashes of the SS.
