This building I soon found was the French Civil Gaol
in peace time and was now being used by the Huns for both their Military and Civil prisoners. The guard who spoke a little English conducted me to the kitchen and asked me if I were hungry. It now being close on midnight and having had nothing since lunch at the mess I managed to make him that I was very hungry so he set to and fried me two fresh eggs, infused tea, and put a loaf of dark brown bread and some good butter on the table and invited me to fall to.
Having finished, I offered him a Sullivan Cigarette of which I had luckily put a 100 box in my pocket before leaving the Aerodrome. The guard then beckoned me to follow him and led the way up the narrowest and darkest stair I have ever been up. He did not seem too sure of me because he went up sideways, flashing a torch every now and then in my face to make sure I suppose that I was not going to try and lay him out. I was led to a cell and taken in where the Hun made signs that he had been ordered to search the pockets of my leather flying coat which I was wearing. He took a screw driver from me and then bade me "Good—nacht”.
The cell was not very inviting but the bed looked fresh and clean so I turned in and was soon asleep, despite the fact that I had that day lost everything that is dear to the pilot in France - Liberty, mess-mates, Aerodrome and the old bus which had always served me so faithfully, never once letting me down when on the wrong side of the lines, and last, but by no means least, all my clothes which I was not to see for nearly three months.
I was kept in that prison for ten days amongst all the lowest types of French criminals of both sexes. The days seemed endless and the nights were usually disturbed by the sounds of exploding bombs and bursting shells from the Hun- Anti-aircraft guns firing at our night bombing squadrons which were passing over every night. I was given five English books to read the title of only one of which I can remember, “Mr Cherry”. It was the best and I had “Mr Cherry” to my breakfast, dinner, tea and supper for the next ten days. Quarter of an Hour's exercise was allowed me every day in a small courtyard, thirty feet by twelve feet. They fed me well however and I was allowed a hot spray every morning. On the whole I had nothing to complain about their treatment of me here.
On the evening of the tenth day the corporal came to my cell while I was perusing “Mr. Cherry" for the umpteenth time and informed me I was to be ready to leave for the Fatherland in half an hour. Whether he expected me to spend the half hour in prayer or not I am not quite sure, but my getting ready occupied as long as it took me to put on my leather flying coat and sling my small haversack over my shoulder. This haversack had been given me by the Nuns of one of the Belgian Convents. I was only sorry I could not convey my thanks for their kindness in providing me with a much needed change of underwear.
The half hour being up I was taken downstairs and in company of half a dozen ruffian looking cut—throats I was marched through the streets of St. Quentin to a military barracks where we joined a band of about seventy French Tommies and one or two officers. Each man was given a large black loaf and nothing more. Luckily foreseeing this sort of thing I had managed to bribe the corporal of the Gaol with a few of my fast dwindling stock of Sullivans to provide me with some egg sandwiches.
Six French Officers and myself were put into a carriage followed by two Huns to mount guard. The train left St. Quentin about 10 p.m. on its long journey of three days. Of all the slow train journeys I have travelled I think that was the slowest. At every goods yard where an engine was required to do some shunting ours was taken leaving the train standing until they finished operations. The long night passed somehow and about 8.a.m. we reached Maubeuge distant then about one hundred miles behind the lines and over which I had often flown on an offensive patrol, the return journey from the Aerodrome taking us just short of four hours. This place to me was like the last link of civilization to the explorer, and had I known then the weary months of captivity that were in front of me I think I would have risked the Hun’s rifle and jumped for it.
On we went to where the train pulled up at the platform. It was here that the Hun Officer in charge of the party sent a message along to ask if the English Officer would care to travel with him. As we were dreadfully crowded I went along, although I would not do it now. I got a corner seat in his first—class carriage, the other two occupants being a French N.C.O. who could speak both English and German and who was acting as interpreter, and a Hun sentry. We eventually left France behind and entered Belgium passing through some very beautiful scenery in the higher parts of Belgium.
On one occasion our train was shunted into a siding in the mountains of Belgium to allow some of the faster trains to pass. One train, two coaches and the engine, stopped beside us and turned out to be the German train containing among others the all highest Hindenburg and Ludendorf.
Much standing to attention, saluting, bowing and scraping was indulged in by our guards as the train moved off.
At two o’clock on the following morning we reached Aachan or Aix-la-Chapelle to give it its correct name. Unfortunately I did not know until too late where we were. Had I known it was only some five or six riles to the Dutch Frontier I might have thought of making a try for it, but it is doubtful whether I would have got very far, not knowing anything about the country and as the Frontier was guarded with an electrified fence and I do not suppose I would have stood an earthly chance of getting through.
It was here that we got our first decent meal, and I should add my last decent meal for nearly two years. The Hun Officer in charge informed us we could have a three course dinner (at 2 a.m.) if we paid for it, which needless to say, we were only too glad to do. The meal consisted vegetable soup followed by some very creditable meat, potatoes and turnip, and finished up with a chocolate pudding, coffee and cigarettes, very much better than we had hoped for.
While we were waiting for the meal to be served, I tried over a selection of German music on a gramophone, much to the amusement of the French Officers. The meal and the smoke finished, we were marched out to our train on the way to which I kept a look out for a chance of hopping it, and I was just on the point of slipping below a stationary goods train that we were passing when a sentry came up on either side of me and took my arms, effectively putting a stop to any further idea of escape. On we jolted through the long hours until daylight showed us the country through which we were passing. The old Hun Officer woke up and looked out of the window, then turned to me with an exclamation of delight saying “Meinherr Der Vaterland” and grinned all over his face. I suppose he saw prospects Of a few day's leave after the terrible responsibility of bringing back a train load of prisoners.
At Dusseldorf I changed trains with the other French Officers, the men going on to a different destination. That afternoon we arrived at Gutersloh where I got my first sight of a Hun prison camp for officers. We must have looked a sorry crew as the heavy gate guarded by sentries clanged behind us. I know I felt low enough in spirits and could I only have looked ahead two years and seen under what very different circumstances I was to pass that very camp on our way to Freedom, I should no doubt have entered the camp in a more cheerful frame of mind.
GUTERSLOH
For the first three days I was put into a separate enclosure, away from the main camp until the Hun doctors had satisfied themselves that I was free of all contagious diseases. It was on first entering this place that I met my old flight commander, Captain Salmond, who was captured about a week before me. He was very keen to know all about his old Flight, and after giving him all the news he told me his story of how he was taken. It was an experience somewhat on the game lines as our own, his Observer being knocked out of action by a bullet across the throat in the first minute of a scrap with some Huns, one of whom was flying a French Neuport machine, and who got behind him smashing his left wing with a burst from his machine gun.
Gutersloh, as I was to learn by later experience was one of the best Officers' camps in Germany. The captured officers were composed of British, French, Russian and Italian, most of whom were captured in 1914 and consequently they had had plenty of time to learn the ways of the Hun. Only one escape took place during the 4 days we were there, but it was a very clever one. A party of Russian officers made uniforms like those worn by the Hun Tommies, and one of the party made a really clever German N.C.O’s uniform.
I should here mention that almost every day Hun soldiers, who were unfit for active service came into this camp to perform various duties and when finished they were all marched out of the camp under the charge of an N.C.O. The Russians chose one of these days, and shortly before the time for the Huns to finish their work, they appeared out of one of the houses and marched off towards the main gate which the sentry on guard there immediately opened, clicked his heel to the false N.C.O., and allowed the party to march off down the road. When out of sight of the camp we supposed they would take to the woods, but unfortunately they had cut it rather fine for they hadn’t gone half an hour when the real German N.C.O. with his party appeared marching towards the main gate. It was worth a lot to see the expression of utter dismay on that sentry’s face when he saw the real lot approaching because he well knew there was only one work party in the camp. Then ensued a few minutes of wild shouting, blowing of whistles and stampede of all available sentries down the road in search of the missing prisoners, whom I’m sorry to say were one and all caught not far from the camp.
[To be continued...]
No comments:
Post a Comment