Unfortunately, not being of a literary turn of mind, I am unable to write a thrilling account of our adventurous journey across Germany. At the same time, where in my description I make such a statement as “We now made our way across country without interruption for four hours,” the reader must not imagine that we just rushed along without encountering difficulties, for the way was always beset with some sort of obstacle or other. Needless to say, we gave ourselves a great many unnecessary scares; but in our highly strung condition, with all our senses working at fever-heat, this was not to be wondered at.

The uncertain moonlight played tricks with our imaginations, everything assuming gigantic proportions. All the forces of nature seemed to be arrayed against us and to walk hand in hand with the enemy. If a slight wind rustled the leaves of a solitary tree to our rear, we felt we were discovered and followed, and must press on, only to fall on our stomachs again after a few hundred yards, as there was something standing in front and waiting for us, inevitable, grim, and silent. “Look! he has moved; it’s a sentry! Did you notice the light shining on his bayonet?” and so we would creep away to right and left, only to find that our grim sentry was a large post marking some boundary, and the apparent flash of the bayonet had probably been caused by the rays of the moon suddenly appearing from behind a cloud and striking one of its white painted sides.

To return to facts. The spot in which we were forced to hide, for want of a better place, was on the edge of a small wood, consisting of a number of old and rotten trees, with a very thick carpet of decayed leaves, which, being frozen, made the most infernal crackling noise under our feet, as we searched to and fro for the best place of concealment. Being winter, there was not sufficient foliage to enable us to hide in the trees themselves with any safety. After exploring the wood in vain, we eventually had to take up our position in a natural drain running along the edge of the wood. This afforded us very little covering; a few blackberry brambles and small branches were hastily snapped off, and pulled in on top of us. By raising our heads a little above the drain a view of the surrounding country could be obtained, and the railway line and main road connecting the two small towns which we had crossed early in the morning were in plain view.

After careful examination of our position, I came to the conclusion that we had managed to find almost the identical spot that I had planned out as the most desirable one for the termination of our first trek, as shown on the map of our railway carriage, both because of its position in relation to a network of small railways to which we must depend for direction, and to the fact that it lay almost in a direct line, if taking the shortest route to the frontier; so that, with the exception that we had not enough cover for safety, we had not done so badly, and had in reality made very good progress from our starting-off place the night before, and, what was more important than anything else, I felt pretty certain of our exact situation.

At the approach of dusk on the following evening it would be necessary, according to my prearranged plan, to strike due north for about ten miles, in order to find two light railroads running west, which bridged two small rivers and the Dutch-German Grand Canal, and also passed over the dangerous swampy ground through which our course lay. Could we find either of these railroads we should again know our position, and by keeping to the tracks as far as possible make better progress, with the chance of being able to use the bridges, should they be unguarded.

The reader will no doubt ask why I proposed to take so difficult and dangerous a route, leading as it did right through the centre of the swamps. My reasons were threefold. First, because I was firmly convinced that the Boches would place so much confidence in the natural obstacle presented by the swamps that any sort of guard would appear superfluous. Secondly, the country through which we were trying to pass is the most thickly populated part of Germany. By making for the swamps, therefore, we should almost entirely obviate the chances of being seen by pedestrians. Thirdly, because it was the shortest way, which, situated as we were without food or the necessary warm clothing, would become a factor of primary importance before many hours had passed.

To return to the early hours of the morning after our first night’s trek, as we lay half concealed in the drain bordering the little wood before described. My first feeling was one of intense relief at the thought of a day’s rest in front of me, for my whole body ached after the unwonted exercise. I tried to compose myself to sleep, but the natural excitement of mind caused by the happenings of the last twenty-four hours proved this to be very difficult, and it was some time before I eventually dropped off into a troubled slumber, only to wake up within the hour suffering from cramp and stiff with cold. To make matters worse, the ground underneath me had thawed with the warmth of my body, and I was now wet through all down one side. If only we could have got a good hot meal to take the shivers out of us, things would have assumed a different aspect. The sound of occasional voices wafted to us on the wind from the high road before mentioned kept us continually alert to our danger; but the first real anxiety was brought about by an old woodcutter who paid a visit to our little wood, evidently looking for a piece of old timber, and before very long he settled down to work not more than sixty yards from us. The regular chomp, chomp of an axe told us that he at any rate had discovered nothing suspicious; but of course all prospects of further sleep vanished until his departure at midday with a barrowful of wood.

About this time I for one began to get ravenously hungry, and forthwith made a meal of a precious piece of chocolate. A sixpenny bar of Cadbury’s chocolate does not go very far after a long march, but as I had nothing else whatever it had to do. Don’t let the reader imagine I greedily ate the lot. Oh no! I took about three-quarters of it, sufficient for the day, but at the same time I thought with longing of my improvised ruck-sack and the good things it contained, either lying on the Bonn-DÜsseldorf railway line or elating the greedy spirit of some beastly Boche.

After the departure of the old woodcutter the day passed fairly peaceably until about 3 p.m., when the barking of a dog in our near vicinity “put our wind up,” as the expression goes. Suddenly the stillness of the wood was rudely broken by the sound of a shot, and we could distinctly hear the fall of a bird as it crashed through the trees with a thud to earth, followed by the yapping of the dog as it ran its quarry down. The hunter then tramped all over the wood, tapping the trees, evidently in search of more sport, and in so doing he passed within ten yards of us. All this time we lay with our bodies pressed to earth in a perfect agony of doubt. As for myself, it seemed impossible that the hunter could fail to hear the wild pounding of my heart; but the danger passed, and again silence reigned in the little wood.

Not for long were we to be left in peace. The old woodcutter returned, and this time he took up his position a good bit nearer than before, and chopped away hard till nearly dusk, when at last he again went off with his old barrow. If one carefully analyses one’s feelings and sensations in moments of excitement such as these, through what extraordinary vicissitudes does imagination lead one. For instance, in the almost infinitesimal space of time between the report of the hunter’s gun and the sound of his quarry dropping to earth I lived a lifetime. We had been seen; we were surrounded; armed men had been sent to take us; we would be led back in triumph to the hell that awaits prisoners; and then the sound of the quarry falling through the trees, the swift realisation that the enemy is only hunting game and not you, the wild relief and the bodily demand for a drop of brandy or something to pull oneself together, which follows after all great mental strain.

About dusk we crept out of our old drain into the shelter of the wood, stiff with cramp and cold, but with the glorious feeling that so far we were safe, that we were already twenty-five miles nearer home, and that another night of swift action lay before us, at the end of which we would, please God, be still nearer. At 7 o’clock we again started trekking. Little of moment happened to us during the early part of the evening, and by 9.30 we had made a good ten miles, and were casting round for the railway for which we were in search. Our progress now became very slow; thick white clouds obscured the face of the moon; a rapid thaw had set in, and our way was barred by a series of deep rivulets running through an old and decayed wood stretching for many miles on each side of us. Here we very soon lost all idea of direction, and decided to retrace our steps as best we could and strike still farther north.

By good luck we came within a hundred yards or so of the spot from where we had started before entering this wooded country. Having got our direction again, we struck north, to find ourselves getting into more marshy country as we advanced. After having walked for some distance over wet fields of a spongy nature, sometimes up to our knees in water, we came upon a small river, which we followed northwards until we struck the much-hoped-for railway-track that we were in search of, running due west and cutting the river at right angles, in accordance with my previous calculation. Making sure there was no sort of guard on the bridge, we drew ourselves out of the marsh, to stand with relief for a moment on the firm dry track, before passing over the bridge and proceeding on our adventures.

Pushing on again, we kept to the track as long as it ran due west, and within a few miles struck the second river which we had hoped to find, and thus placed a formidable obstacle behind us. Our exact position was now known with relation to the network of railways on which our minds were concentrated. The line which we were now on would run due west for a mile or two, and then bend southward in a big curve before running west again, when it would bridge the Grand Canal. Our object was now to make use of this bridge if possible, but we did not feel justified in remaining on the line until the bridge was reached, owing to the fact that, as far as we could remember the map, there appeared to be a station or siding through which the line ran soon after it began to turn southward. Accordingly we stuck to the rails as long as they ran westward, after which we left the track with the very greatest reluctance, to again plunge into the marsh, maintaining our fixed purpose of travelling due west whenever possible.

Very soon the sight of our friendly track was lost to view, and we had not advanced more than a mile or two before we began to consider that perhaps we should have done better to stick to it, whatever the consequences, as the difficulties of advancing through the marsh were becoming more serious as we proceeded. We were now well over our knees and often up to the waist in water and slime. The moon had unveiled herself, much to our discomfort, and before very long she was shining in a cloudless sky, which caused us to call a halt for the purpose of consultation as to the best procedure under the circumstances. Was it best to go on as we were? We were doing fairly well, but making a terrific noise in advancing through the marsh, which was absolutely unavoidable. Four people cannot push their way through mud and slush nearly up to their waists without making a disturbance. This was well enough so long as it was dark. If any of the enemy did happen to be in the neighbourhood, they would probably conclude that the noise in the marsh was caused by cattle; but now that we could see almost as well as if it were day, we could therefore just as easily be seen in turn. The sight of four men wading through dangerously swampy country in the middle of the night in close proximity to the frontier in war-time would raise the suspicions of the most simple-minded.

However, our consultation did not lead to any better results, and we were losing valuable time. The general opinion turned out to be contrary to retracing our steps, for many reasons: first, the fear of losing our direction; secondly, if we did strike the railway line again, we might be forced to leave it, and find ourselves in the same position that we were now in. Should we happen to run up against somebody, the impossibility of finding to what extent these marshes extended to our right and left, without running grave risk and again losing time, and many other minor reasons, decided us to proceed as rapidly as the difficulties of our route would permit.

Within a couple of miles we found ourselves, to our great joy, on the banks of the expected Grand Canal. When I say banks, we were standing up to our waists in water and long lush grass, a heavy damp white mist hung over everything, and we could just see over the other side of the canal, which was evidently a great deal more swampy than our side. Large patches of water, unbroken by reeds, gleamed here and there. To swim the canal would be easy, but to advance on the other side looked impossible. Accordingly we decided to follow the canal southward as best we could, in the hope of striking the railway line again, which must bridge the canal in some place or other in our near vicinity. Hardly had we proceeded a couple of hundred yards or so, when the expected bridge suddenly loomed out of the mist.

The natural elation caused by the sight of this bridge was quickly damped as we approached, for there on the far side of the bridge was a small black shed. It appeared as if this would be one of those occasions where we should be forced to take a risk. Accordingly we advanced to the track with the least possible noise, taking the very greatest care to prevent any rustling of the reeds in our path, climbed to the track, and lay on our stomachs whilst we took a cautious survey. After a few minutes’ reflection I rose to my hands and knees, and crawled up to and over the bridge, and lay within ten feet of it on the other side, where I could distinctly hear a gentle snore, that told of some sort of human inmate; also I now noticed for the first time a very thin wisp of smoke curling up from the cabin chimney—this we had not been able to see before, owing to the thickness of the mist. The fellow in the cabin, soldier or civilian, whoever he was, continued to give out comforting little snores. Accordingly I signalled to the rest of my companions to crawl over as I had done, and one by one they succeeded in doing so without making any appreciable sound, but for me waiting on the other side it seemed as if each one took a lifetime. But the bridge guard slept on, and we all crossed with perfect safety, to immediately push off again down the track with the utmost possible speed, in order to leave this unwelcome neighbourhood behind.

Now that we had put the two rivers and the Grand Canal behind us, we felt that we had done a very good night’s work, even if we made no more progress that night; but it was only 1.30 a.m., and we had at least three if not nearly four hours before daybreak, in which another ten miles might be made. As we advanced the land to our right and left grew gradually more swampy; sometimes large expanses of shining water came into view on either side of us, and we thanked our stars we had risked the bridge, as, had we essayed to pass through country like this, our progress would have become nil, even if we survived drowning.

Within a couple of miles the land gradually began to take on a drier aspect, until eventually dry ground showed on both sides of us. Here we took a general survey of our direction by the aid of the stars, and found we were travelling south by west. This had to be corrected, so we now left the track on which we had made such excellent progress, and struck off west over dry land, which led us to a series of gently sloping hills, looking something like the downs at home. Every bit of available ground was under cultivation, and on several occasions dogs barked out their warning from small farms which we passed.

The difficulties of keeping direction were now fully brought home to us. For instance, we would approach a block of farm buildings, and, in order to prevent attracting the attention of any dogs, we would make a half-circle round the buildings and strike off west by the stars on the other side. In this manner we must have dropped a tremendous distance southward, as was afterwards proved, although we were always travelling west. It is practically impossible to tell when you have made a circle round a village or building without sufficient landmarks to guide you, and at night it becomes an impossibility. We would walk round a village or other obstacle which we wished to avoid, till it seemed to us that we had more than half-circled it; but in reality we probably only went about a quarter the distance round. At one place a dog followed us up almost to the top of one of these rolling fields, and barked until we thought he must alarm the whole of Germany. Meanwhile we lay with our noses pressed to earth; the moon was at her brightest; and we were on the highest ground, and could certainly be seen from a great distance. Consequently we did not appreciate the attentions of the dogs in advertising our presence in the neighbourhood.

In order to avoid the chance of our figures being seen against the skyline, we crawled over the hilltop until we were well over and down the other side, which brought us to more plough, ending in a densely wooded region of thickets, through which we at first essayed to pass, but found it no easy matter without making a lot of noise, caused by the snapping of the dried undergrowth through which we tried to force a passage. Withdrawing from what seemed a dangerous area, we held a hurried consultation, which ended in our deciding to split up into pairs and make our way through this region of undergrowth at two different points, some distance from each other, and meet on the other side if possible. Should we fail to meet directly, it was no good wasting time looking for each other.

Anyhow, we were rapidly approaching the spot where we might find it necessary for the safety of our project to split up into pairs, as four people are much more likely to be seen than two. And we had no intention of essaying the actual frontier or its immediate environment at our present strength, though we might probably attempt it singly or in pairs.