To return to our own affairs. When the train started off again, we made up our minds that we must find out everything there was to know about the carriages we were now in. To do this it would be necessary to visit the other compartments, without of course arousing the suspicions of any of the guards. Accordingly I again entered into conversation with one of them, and asked him how many prisoners there were in the train, if they were all going to the same camp, had they just been taken prisoners or were they old ones, from what camps did they come, etc. I then hinted that I thought I’d stroll along and have a talk to them; perhaps some belonged to my own regiment. This did not seem to perturb him at all, as indeed there was no reason why it should, seeing that the carriage was made up of six compartments, which had been partitioned off with a gangway running down one side. Sometimes one comes across them in this country, and by standing up and looking over the seat one can see into the next compartment. Accordingly I strolled along to the next compartment, and sat down with the fellows there and soon got into animated conversation. I noticed, however, that one of the guards had followed me and was standing in the gangway. After about half an hour he got tired of this and went back to his seat, and a few minutes after I also returned to my own seat. This seemed to put him quite at his ease, and by the time the evening arrived I had visited all the compartments, and found, to my great joy, that the rear one held four officers without a guard at all.

It was now necessary to find out the disposition of the Boche officers and the remaining guard, which we did not discover till about 10.30 that evening, when we arrived at some town to put up for the night. The name of the place I don’t know, as I could see no name written up anywhere, for there were very few lights showing on the station, and it was a pitch-dark night. On detraining, we were marshalled into a sort of Red Cross shelter on the platform, where we waited about three-quarters of an hour, after which we were formed into fours and marched a distance of about a mile and a half through the town to a big building, evidently some kind of education institution temporarily turned into a receiving hospital. Here we were ushered into a large hall, no doubt used before the war as a gymnasium, and now full of collapsible camp-beds. On these we were informed we must sleep till four o’clock the next morning, when we should again march off. These beds looked very enticing to a great many of us, and personally I took the full benefit out of the one allotted to me, as I felt sure that it would be many a long weary day before I got the chance of another good rest—if indeed I ever would need one again in this life. The night passed without incident, and we were well guarded.

The next morning at 4.30 we marched off again and reached the station about 5 a.m. Here we were once more marshalled into the Red Cross rest station where we had been the previous night. Hot coffee, bread, and a piece of blood sausage were dealt out to us, at a price; but I for one was very thankful, for it was the last meal I was to have for five days, although of course I did not know it at the time.

At six o’clock we again entrained, and I noted with satisfaction that we were to have the same carriage as that of the previous day. Unfortunately it was now the leading one of the train, because anyone attempting to leave our carriage must inevitably be seen by any person looking out of those in the rear. I made especial note of the whereabouts of our conducting officer, and found that he and the guard I had missed the night before were located in the next carriage to ours. As in English “Pullmans,” one could pass from one carriage to another the whole length of the train, and I suppose he felt that he had us sufficiently under his eyes from the next carriage.

On taking our allotted places in our carriage, we were delighted to find that the front compartment, which had been the rear one the previous day, was again without a guard. Nothing of any note happened till after dawn broke, when we crossed the Rhine at Frankfort, and towards 10 a.m. we drew up at a wayside station, and were again allowed to descend and stretch our legs. This time there was nothing to be got in the way of food or drink, and it was freezing very hard; so I and my two companions, finding a small waiting-room, went in and shut the door-in order to keep warm, of course! After about ten minutes the whistle went for the train to start, but our conducting officer had discovered he had not got his full complement of prisoners, and by the noise he made in shouting at his men he seemed to be pretty much excited over it. During a wild and flurried search we were discovered innocently doing nothing; and although we got pretty roundly cursed, there is no doubt that it helped to allay any suspicion on their part that we might be possible escapers, so much so that when the train actually went off one of the three guards was removed from our compartment after a whispered consultation with the Boche officer, and went to join his comrade in the officers’ compartment. This left us with two in our compartment, and things began to look better for us. From this on nothing of any particular note happened till midday, except that I felt exactly as if I were going to step into a dentist’s chair, and the clock seemed as if it were at a standstill, although the train was now moving a good deal faster than it had done hitherto.

About one o’clock we stopped at a station, where we got rid of another of our guards, who, suddenly discovering that his pal who had joined the other guard had taken his grub with him, went off in search of it—and, to our joy, he did not return. We were now left with only one guard in our compartment and four others in the compartment in front of us. After we moved off the train gathered speed, and our hopes began to descend again. If the train continued like that to the end of the journey, to jump would be out of the question. This was immediately after the sentry had been moved, and we found ourselves with only one sentry in our compartment.

We looked at each other, and unanimously said, “Well, what about it?” Supposing we successfully made good our escape, we must be able to travel with the greatest possible speed towards that part of the Dutch frontier which we believed to be the best place for an attempt, and, owing to its situation amongst the swamps, would probably be less carefully guarded. Our progress across Germany was going to be very seriously hampered by the fact that we were without a map of the actual frontier, and only in possession of a small piece of map about three inches square, showing the railway system on which we were actually running, and this was not even correct according to a large tin map showing the German north-west railway system which was nailed to the wall of the compartment.

We therefore set to work to learn by heart this map, in so far as it was likely to affect our possible route, and in order to get a definite idea of our exact position on the railways, when the time came to make the attempt. This was done, of course, by carefully noting the stations one by one as we passed them in the train and referring to the map.

Personally that map seemed to have burnt its equivalent into my brain, particularly the branches which led westward and passed over numerous small rivers and eventually over a chain of lakes, which spot would ultimately be our objective. We then sketched a rough plan of how the attempt was to be brought to a successful issue. My plan being accepted by the other two, it was decided that I was to have the right of trying first—the other two tossing up with a coin for right of second place. This being decided, another important factor had to be discussed, the issue at point being that, firstly, there were some twenty-five or so other British officers in the compartments in rear of us. The last of these compartments was without a guard, and was therefore the best one to escape from. Secondly, there might be some of these officers in other compartments who intended to take an opportunity, should it occur. If they did so without our knowledge, it would ruin our chance; and, on the other hand, if we attempted to escape without their knowledge, we should equally spoil their chance. Since we were all British officers together, we decided to make it known to those who looked or acted as if they were looking for a chance to leave the train.

Accordingly I left our compartment, and entered into conversation with the officers in all the other compartments in turn, but saw no signs of any preparations until I reached the last two compartments, where I found evidences of suppressed excitement. The sentry in my own compartment did not seem to mind my visiting the others where, as he knew, I came under the eye of the sentry in charge of each compartment. The fact that there was no sentry in the last one had evidently escaped him. I discovered six other officers who talked of making an attempt, and discussed my plans with the senior and two others of these, after which I returned to my own compartment and companions.

I then proceeded to the lavatory, to which I was followed by the sentry, who posted himself outside, letting down the window on the lavatory side of the train and leaning out. This was in order that I might not get out of the lavatory window without his knowledge. In the lavatory I first cut the communication-cord; then, taking a galvanised spring which I had concealed in the heel of my boot, I tied the broken rear end of this cord to one of the communication-cord pull-throughs, in order that it might be pulled in the corridor behind me, and spring back into its place without transmitting the signal farther up the train. This done, I removed my ruck-sack, made of sacking, from between the lining of my trench-coat, and put into it the remains of my food brought on the journey. I then put the ruck-sack on my back, and, coming out of the lavatory, I manoeuvred so that the sentry walked in front of me on our way back to the compartment, in order that he might not see that I had grown a hump-back. On being seated, I again studied the railway map in our compartment, until I felt that I had off by heart the general directions of the railways that would be likely to help us en route.

The next thing was to get the door of the carriage in the rear compartment open. Before leaving our end of the train, we decided that, as a signal to go, I should drop my handkerchief out of the window on the left-hand side of the train, since an attempt must, if possible, take place from the right side—firstly, because the right side contained the corridor passage, and, secondly, the sentry could not possibly fire on us from a moving train on the right side, unless they were left-hand shots, which risk we had to take, though the chances were very much in our favour. Again I paid a visit to our friends in the rear compartments, and informed them that, as soon as dusk set in, we would make the attempt—sooner, if the train slackened speed sufficient to give us the least feasible opportunity.

We were just then passing the thickly wooded country near Bonn, and the views were quite delightful. The light began to fail fast, and my nerves were strained to the highest tension. Getting into communication with the sentry in the next carriage, I began enlarging on the beauties of the view, asking this or that question, at which he was highly delighted. In fact, we got on so well that before many minutes were up I had the window down, and was leaning half out on my right side. Whilst we were unanimously praising a special little bit, my right hand crept down almost to the full length of my arm outside the window, and lifted the outside latch, after which I lost interest in the view, and the sentry returned to his compartment, whilst I went to the rear one. The train up to this time had been running at a speed of about fifty miles an hour, which gave us no chance, considering we had to jump on to metal rails and sleepers filled in with broken granite.

At about seven o’clock we ran into a small station, and thought our chance would come as we drew out before the train could gather speed; but just as we drew out, on reaching a level crossing, we found a company of Boche soldiers drawn up on both sides of the line, and the chance was left behind. At this moment we discovered a strange Boche had entered the compartment. He turned out to be a railway official come to turn on the light. He remained with us for a few minutes only. To us it seemed an eternity. Would he never go! At last he went further up the train, and we began to draw into another small town; but the train stopped in front of another level crossing, with a crowd of Boche civilians on both sides.

After about a minute the train moved off again and gathered speed with great rapidity. We could see the lights of a big town about a mile in front of us. This might be our destination, but we did not know. I informed my confederates that in my opinion it was now or never. The impossibility of jumping at that moment seemed to be deeply impressed on everybody but myself. However, I dropped the handkerchief, and, crossing to the other side, turned the handle and jumped out. Picking myself up, I sprinted in the opposite direction to that in which the train was moving, keeping to the centre of the track. It was impossible to leave the line here, since both sides were lined with houses; so I rushed on, hoping for a gap in the houses towards the open country. Passing the level crossing, I noticed the barriers beginning to rise and the crowd of civilians preparing to pass over. I heard a cry behind me and the patter of running feet, and thought a crowd was following, at which I redoubled my efforts, but soon realised that my long imprisonment had told upon me, and that I could not go much farther.

Then it dawned on me that I could run better without my trench-coat. Visions arose of the long wet trek in front of me, and the possibilities of rheumatic fever without it; but my breath was going fast, so there was no alternative. Accordingly, as I ran I threw the precious coat from me. By this time I was very nearly done, and the weight of the ruck-sack containing my food for the journey made my shoulders ache, so that I threw that off also. Another fifty yards and the end of the town was in sight, but before this I espied a gap in the houses, for which I made. This only led to a cul-de-sac. The only alternative was to cross a fence into a garden, and then another and another, through a wire fence and into a kitchen garden. In a few minutes I was joined by three others, whom, to my joy, I discovered to be three of my companions of the rear compartment. Here we rested, and I got out my concealed compass, in order to take down bearings. This done, in about a quarter of an hour we prepared to make a start.

We first ran into a large house and garden surrounded by barbed wire, into which we pushed our way, only to find ourselves temporarily trapped, as we could find no way of exit on to the road at the other side, so that we had to retreat by the way we had come and make a detour round the house, to find ourselves confronted by a main road, with occasional pedestrians passing along it. By now the moon had begun to rise, which enabled us to see a good distance ahead, but at the same time increased the danger of our being observed. Fortunately, she providentially went behind thick fleecy clouds. Thinking the road in front of us too dangerous an obstacle to cross at this point, we made a detour of about half a mile, and again took compass bearings, which bearings we took periodically, when it suddenly struck me we were travelling directly towards the moon, and therefore almost south, at least south-west, which was not our object at all. Again we took a bearing with the compass, which seemed to prove me wrong; but I obstinately refused to believe myself wrong, and this led to trouble between myself and the senior officers of our expedition.

To take a bearing properly and correctly was quite a difficult feat. It consisted of lying on the ground covered by somebody else’s coat, in order to light a match in safety without attracting attention, otherwise we found it impossible to set the compass sufficiently accurately. On removing the glass from the compass, it was discovered that the agate bearing was cracked, which caused the compass to swing and stick. This must have happened in my jump from the train. I did not at first convey this information to my comrades, thinking that it might cause too great consternation; for it must be remembered that they had all been strangers to me a few hours before, and I was not therefore sure of the type and calibre of the men I had to deal with.

For a few hundred yards we carried on, when, to the disgust of the others, I again decided to take a bearing, over which I spent a great deal of time, carefully placing the compass-point towards the edge of the agate bearing, and allowing it to swing gently to a stop. Although the needle was not balanced in the centre, it was sufficiently so to enable it to swing freely; then, taking a careful line of the exact direction of west, in conjunction with the rising moon, the Pole Star and Cassiopeia, I set a direct course, from which, with the exception of slight deflections for the purpose of avoiding dangerous obstacles encountered on our route, we never swerved until after we crossed the Dutch frontier. It was hard work to make time by forced marching, since we had to watch the ground for pitfalls for the feet and the heavens for direction.

Shortly after taking the last bearing we crossed another electric railway line and a station brilliantly lit up, and here it seemed to our excited imagination that the people inside the brilliantly lit train-cars drawn up at one of the stations were interested or excited about something. All the occupants had their noses glued to the glass, looking at something or other, whilst the powerful head-lamps were sweeping the country around, often lighting up our prostrate forms as if it were day. Innumerable cars seemed to come and go, and we dared not move under such conditions. Soon, however, to our intense relief, the trains slacked off, and we were able to make a good steady advance. It began to freeze very hard, the clouds vanished, and the moon became intensely brilliant, which of course helped us immeasurably; but we could not see it then, as our nerves were too much on edge. Personally I felt as if I were naked and the whole world was watching with bated breath. The heavy frost also helped us, since we were sticking entirely to the open country, mostly over ploughed fields, and instead of the usual slow advance one makes over plough we walked on it as on pavement, so that we made excellent progress. At the same time caution guided our every movement. We never crossed a road without scouting it beforehand, or came upon a farm or even a shed without making a wide detour round it. What we feared more than anything else was that a dog might start barking, and cause its owner to come out to see the reason.

When I look back at that first trek, I come to the conclusion that fortune favoured us for once. I don’t think we ever made a false step, which was luck indeed. We walked hard till about 3 a.m., and then found ourselves approaching a main road, with what appeared to be two big villages situated not more than half a mile apart. A scout went forward to investigate, but came back scared and excited. Moving lights appeared first here and there; sometimes red flashes came and went. We immediately decided that we had been surrounded, only to find on closer investigation that the lights belonged to a single-track railway, which ran in a semicircle around us. On crossing the railroad and railtrack beyond, we began to realise for the first time that dawn was rapidly approaching. Lights began to spring up in the large village to our left, so that we were immediately forced to look for a place where we could safely hide during the coming daytime. This proved to be no easy job, and before we were finally settled it was very nearly broad daylight.