The Long Way Home (9 page)

The sight of the blood must have helped to bring the guard back to his senses, and as suddenly as they stormed in they stormed out. First thing on the agenda was to tend to Davey’s wounds
as he was in a state of shock. Bill quickly decided that the Village Director should be notified and Busty was dispatched over the wire to attend to this. Davey required immediate hospitalisation,
and God knows what the guards would get up to next. They might decide that, having gone this far, they might as well complete the job and wipe out the whole lot of us.

However, nothing further happened before the Director arrived. He promptly relieved the guards of duty pending their return to barracks and replaced them with temporary civil guards. He arranged
transport to take Davey to hospital and then took a detailed report of the events. In one hour, our peaceful world had been turned upside down. The death knell had been sounded in our mountain
Shangri-la, although we were lucky to have had two years of peace in this haven – especially when you think of the mass murder that was being committed all around us in the name of
Christianity.

Traudl and I were naturally devastated by the turn of events, as it now became virtually impossible for me to carry on with my night visits to the hotel. Our romance would now
be restricted to the odd loving glance if we saw each other in the village. To my mind this was a sad end to a remarkable piece of wooing but, on the credit side, it would give my badly shredded
nerves a chance to recover.

It didn’t take very long before we were informed that the working party would be wound up and all personnel returned to the main camp in Lamsdorf. This was extremely sad news after a happy
two-year break in the Altvater mountains.

Many people might ask why no one had escaped from such an easy camp, but it would have been extremely unfair to destroy a good situation like Karlsbrunn for those who had no wish to escape. The
recommendation to anyone wanting to make a break from a good working party, of which there were very few, was that they return to the main camp and go out to a camp where another escape
wouldn’t do any harm.

Jimmy, Joe and I talked the whole thing over again and decided that we should now do something concrete about getting home, as it really looked like the war could go on for many years yet. In
our present frame of mind we were ready to face the risks this entailed rather than sit tight in a worsening situation. The three of us, individually and collectively, began planning the
complicated business of leaving Germany and returning home. I managed to steal a few minutes with Traudl in the cellar of the hotel one day and told her of our plans. She immediately insisted that
we include her as there were many ways in which her help would be invaluable. For example, she could give us up-to-date information on the route we would be using, as travel restrictions changed
continually due to bombing and troop movements. All three of us agreed that Traudl’s plan made the most sense. After we returned to the main camp at Lamsdorf, we would arrange to come back to
Sudetenland on a bad working party, escape from there and make our way back to Karlsbrunn, where Traudl would arrange to hide us while we made our final preparations for the journey home.

Everything began to move quickly now and only a week later we were back in Lamsdorf renewing our contacts with our Signals friends and all the others we had come to know in the past few years.
It took about a week to tell them our adventures over the past two years and for them to bring us up to date on what had been happening in the main camp. We then got down to the business of finding
out who the contact man was for the escape committee, and Jimmy and Joe arranged an appointment with them. The result of this meeting was completely negative. We were informed that no help could be
given to first-time escapees. Jimmy got quite annoyed with me when I raged on about this stupid policy of having to prove that you were a loser before they would help you, instead of encouraging
people who might get home on their first attempt. Why would anyone in their right mind keep giving assistance and material help to a constant loser who kept coming back like a rubber ball?

This meant that we were now out on our own, and any problems that arose would have to be solved by ourselves. I was still very optimistic about what lay ahead of us. The next step was finding a
job back in Sudetenland and, soon enough, our chance came along.

Three replacements were required in a factory in the small town of Jägerndorf, which was about ten miles from Bad Karlsbrunn and suited our purposes admirably. So we volunteered for the
job, and were accepted. We told our friends of our intentions; they wished us luck and a safe journey home. They also voiced their opinion that three was a crowd for such a venture. We reassured
them that as a team we had survived so far.

A couple of days later the guard who was to accompany us to the job picked us up and we were off on our travels again. The pleasure on entering Sudetenland again was as great as the last time,
and the three of us felt like children setting out on a great adventure, the first chapter of which would begin when we arrived at our new camp.

We were marched in through the standard wall of barbed wire, which of course would be no problem to Joe’s educated pliers. However, when we came face to face with the concrete blockhouse
with iron-barred windows and barbed wire on the outside, you could have knocked us down with the proverbial feather. When the guard handed us over and we were allocated our bunks, we were then
locked in until mealtime. Inside were concrete walls, concrete floors and a concrete ceiling – and those damned iron bars looked more horrible from the inside than they had from the
outside.

Being left alone inside this impregnable fortress was possibly the best thing that could have happened to us at this time. The three of us had very different thoughts about the
situation we were now in and had the opportunity to express our views in private. Jimmy was of the opinion that maybe we were being given the opportunity to call the whole thing off and, under the
circumstances, I had to agree with him fully. Joe just couldn’t believe that it could end with a whimper and not with a bang.

We agreed to discuss it with the camp leader and explain that we had come to this camp for the sole purpose of escaping and, if he had no objections to this, ask him if he had any ideas on how
we might achieve a night escape from such formidable premises. This we did after having a meal and a natter with all the lads when they came in after work. His advice was to say nothing to anyone
about the escape plans, with the exception of the two Glasgow men whom we had met with the others.

Over the years I have found that rather than rant at fate for being unkind at times, it is better to be a little philosophical and to count your blessings. It’s amazing how often things
come right in the end. Who would have believed that in the present circumstances there was any glimmer of hope that we would achieve our objective?

One of the Scots boys was called Danny and he almost ended himself with laughter when he heard that we had arrived in a strange camp on Friday and wanted to make our break on the Sunday night.
He went on to explain that he and his friend had their escape planned for the coming June and that they had been setting it up for almost a year, so what was our hurry? We explained to him that
four years had always been our target and that if we were prisoners as long as that, then we would have a go at getting home. Time was up.

Mentally we were prepared to have a go and the three of us felt that any delay at this time would probably erode our plans and let us sink into a state of apathy. Thinking about escaping and
actually doing it were two very different things, which accounted for the small number of escapees. After all, you were literally laying your life on the line when you broke out of camp, and not
many were prepared to do that.

Danny and his friend had a quick pow-wow and told us that if we were so desperate to go now, we were very welcome to use the facilities they had set up. We naturally remonstrated with them that
this would be detrimental to their escape later but they insisted so heartily that I got the impression they were glad to get the idea of them having to go brought to an end. They then proceeded in
great detail to explain that their preparations were complete and drew us diagrams of what they had done and how they had done it.

As we agreed, a daytime break was out of the question because you need time to get clear of the area before the manhunt starts, whereas if you start after roll-call at night, then you have until
the next morning to get clear. The two boys had worked this out correctly and came up with the most astonishing method of overcoming the problem of getting out of the barrack-room. They knew that
the roof, the walls and the floor were out of the question, so it had to be through the windows, which to their minds were the weakest part of the set-up. They went on to explain how they dealt
with the vertical iron bars set in concrete, passing through lateral flat bars also set in concrete.

The upright bar, which had to be cut, was pencil-marked above and below the two lateral bars. A rope was then tied around the upper laterals and wound tight until the mark to be cut was exposed,
then, with a very fine-bladed hacksaw, the bar was cut through. When the cut was completed, chewing gum was inserted in the space and the rope was removed, allowing the lateral bar to return to its
normal position. This cut was repeated on the lower part of the bar and again chewing gum was inserted in the space and the lateral bar returned to its normal position. We were invited to have a go
at finding out which bar was the one to be removed, and though the three of us tried our damnedest, we had to admit defeat.

When we asked Danny to show us which one it was, he laughed and said that when we were ready to go they would take the bar out and when we were gone they would put it back. This worried me a
little, as I would have liked to see that it actually worked; timing was critical once we started our break. However, it would probably have taken us the best part of a year to get to where we
could have managed on our own, and here was Danny handing it to us on a plate. Joe said that he had total trust in our new friends and Jimmy said that it would be all right on the night. And none
of us even dreamed of asking where they got the hacksaw!

Our main objective now was to appear to be settling in to our new environment, and this we did thoroughly. In this we made a terrible, but simple, mistake, for which we were to
suffer badly. Sunday was a day of rest for everyone, but as the football pitch was now clear of its winter coating of snow, the lads decided to have their first game of the season. When they found
out that the three of us played, they were highly delighted as it gave them two full teams. In view of what we had planned, you might think that at least one of three sane men would have realised
that this was not a sensible thing to do, but we indulged ourselves in a full ninety minutes of our favourite sport. The old adage about living and learning is a lot of rubbish.

Since we had arrived in the new camp, I had checked the star formations at night and had lined them up in the direction that we had to take to hit Karlsbrunn. I was, of course, presupposing that
we would have a clear sky on the big night. I had acquainted myself with our route on the local maps we had but, of course, there was the black-out to be taken into consideration, plus the curfew,
plus the Home Guard, plus dogs in kennels and farms that could raise alarms, plus the unknown and the unexpected. It would have been so much easier to sit and wait until our gallant troops came to
relieve us – but, as I said, hormones don’t listen.

That Sunday night we did our final checking and planning, and on Monday morning we went off and did a normal day’s work. We were never inside the factory; it was said to be a parachute
production outfit, though we couldn’t verify this in any way because of the high-security conditions surrounding the area. Anyway, we were not going to be there long enough to find out.

The weather was at its very best, with a clear sky and a light spring breeze; if it lasted through the night, it would be perfect for our trip. I knew there would be no moon that night and it
looked as if there would be no cloud cover either. At least the elements were working in our favour.

Finally, our working day was over and we were feeling no ill-effects from the football, so we returned to the camp in good spirits. We began to make the final preparations after our evening meal
in order to be ready to go after roll-call, leaving no signs behind that we had ever been there at all. Danny and the others still had their doubts that we would really make the break, but we
finally convinced them that we were leaving and that we would send them a postcard when we got home.

Jimmy, Joe and I had a final huddle to make sure that there were no last-minute second thoughts, as the effort had to be one hundred per cent, and the three of us confirmed that it was all
systems go. Danny and his mate had the equipment they required to release the bar in the window, and we had the clothes we were to travel in safely out of sight. Our order of dress was normal
underwear and shirt, boots and socks, dark trousers and a heavy dark pullover. Other than this, we would each carry a light snack to be consumed on the march. In addition Jimmy would have a
first-aid kit, Joe would have his pliers and I would have my maps and a small battery torch I had acquired. The reason that we were travelling so light was that this first part of the break had to
be successful. If it failed, then would come the time for improvisation.

Roll-call. The next half-hour could possibly be the most exciting time of our lives, or – with bad luck – it could be the end of our lives. This was always the
alternative when you left camp without permission, and I knew the horrible feeling I had had in the pit of my stomach every time I had gone to see Traudl. I also knew that Jimmy and Joe must be
going through hell at the thought of what was in front of them. Fortunately, they showed nothing of this while the guards went through their dreary routine of counting their flock for the last time
that day. I can vouch for it that, on this occasion, everyone was present and correct.