Part 5: Lecture by 2nd Lt Jock Tullis MC RFC on 23rd March 1921

Tunnel at Clausthal

I should here explain that the barrack was about 100 feet long and raised off the ground at one end to a height of about three feet, tapering away to ground level at the other end. The raised end would be distant from the barbed wire about 12 feet and from there to a wooden yard would be about another 20 feet so it will readily be understood that to tunnel some 30 feet in a loose soil was no great feat. 

I do not propose here to go into a detailed description of this tunnel but will reserve that for the one that we ultimately escaped through, as tunnels are more or less alike in the manner of working them. It will be sufficient to say that this tunnel had to be abandoned because of water, one of the worst enemies to be contended with in tunnels and that another tunnel was started from a similar barrack further up the camp. This one took so long in the making that those of us who were keen to get away that summer began to look around for a different rode of exit. This tunnel was completed in the late autumn, but as the weather was showing signs of breaking the committee in charge of the affair decided to close it up and leave the attempt until the spring the following year, a great mistake in my opinion as it is never safe to leave a thing like this in a camp where everybody knew of it. A careless word dropped in the hearing of a Hun would be quite enough to ruin the whole affair. This one I heard later on was given to Neimeyer by a British member of the camp whom the Senior British Officer had asked the Germans to remove for some cause of which I never heard the details.

     The Summer wore on to the autumn and only two officers had managed to get out by cutting the wire in broad daylight while a game of baseball was in progress. After this attempt the Huns erected what was known as a Neutral Zone. 

This was simply a fence of wire erected 6 ft. from the outside and main barbed wire. To be found in this neutral zone at any time was almost certain death as all the sentries had strict orders to fire at anyone whom they saw going in. It is here necessary for me to describe the outer portion of the camp in which we had two tennis Courts and a small Golf Course. This outer space was in the shape of a half circle. During the day the sentries were all posted outside the half circle, but after evening roll call they were brought in to the straight line of wire leaving the outer wire unguarded, so that anyone lying concealed there stood a fair chance of getting away after dark. 

OUR ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE

This was the method finally adopted by two of us as the most feasib1e of getting out. Our idea was to dig a shallow ditch just wide and deep enough to allow one to lie flat in it.

As we kept the Tennis Courts in repair ourselves, the digging oft the ditch was no very difficult task. Some two or three days easy working so as not to excite the Huns saw this completed, and one fine day we got all our stuff together, wheeled it down in a barrow covered with earth, and buried it near our ditch. Wire cutters were also buried where we could lay hands on them easily. That evening just before the guard was changed saw friend walking down to the Tennis Courts wearing a loose waterproof and looking a good deal stouter than usual. To disarm suspicion, he also carried a Tennis racquet. Four fellows were playing Tennis, and when my friend had casually sat down on the edge of the ditch as if he were waiting his turn to play, one of the players knocked a ball over the wire to the nearest sentry and then politely asked him to throw it back.

During the few seconds that it took the sentry to stoop down to pick up the ball, my friend fell into the ditch and was covered up quicker than it takes to tell by a friend who was helping. I saw all this from a Window overlooking the tennis courts and after my friend had safely disappeared from view, I waited until I saw the guard change, and then repeated my friend's performance the same procedure of knocking the ball over to the new sentry being gone through. While he was getting it I flopped into the ditch lying absolutely flat on my chest and was soon covered up by our friend to a depth of perhaps 6 to 8 inches. 

I should here mention that each of us had taken a short length of pipe made of spiral wire covered with canvas through which to breathe, the mouth of this tube coming up to the surface and being covered with a tuft of grass. Some few minutes after I was covered up I heard the bugle go for the evening roll call at which I knew we would be missed and everyone would be kept standing until the Huns had searched the camp from floor to ceiling in an attempt to find us. Nothing happened to disturb the silence in which we lay for what seemed hours but in reality was only some 45 minutes. The weight of earth on top of us soon began to make itself felt, and after half an hour I would have given all I possessed to have been able to roll over on my side, but as this was impossible we had just to grin and bear it. All seemed to be going well and I judged from my luminous wrist watch that it must be getting dark when suddenly right at my ear I heard a laugh and someone shouted on the Kommandt to come and have a look. At the same moment someone started to scrape away the earth above my head and soon had me exposed to view. I never found out what had given us away, whether it was an involuntary movement on my part or whether my breath from the tube had been noticed rising out of the ground, I cannot say, but we were soon marched to the cells amidst much shouting and threats to shoot if we tried any more nonsense.

The Jug at Claustahl

A sentence of 40 days was passed on to us for this attempt and for the first 14 we were never allowed out of our cells.  After that we were allowed one hour per day in which to exercise round a small wired inclosure.   Once every three days a Hun came on duty who had spent some years in this country and we soon found that for a little of our food occasionally he would allow us to come out of our rooms after the last visit of the German officer at night, provided that we always went back to our rooms immediately the bell at the gate of the tall wooden fence surrounding the jug barrack rang. Also we soon found that by fixing a piece of cigar box wood In the latch of our doors with the aid of a penknife we could open them at will. It was these two useful weapons that a very cleverly planned escape was successfully brought off.

Parker and Blain’s Escape from the Jug

Lieut. Parker, my companion in the burying stunt, and Lieut. Blain, another officer who was doing time for escaping, started to sound the English speaking sentry and found that for a few English sovereigns he was prepared to assist them by bringing in civilian suits, maps and a compass, provided that they did not make the attempt while his guard were on duty. Another officer in the camp, Lieut. Medlicott, one of the cleverest men at getting out of any camp, amongst all the British officers, was told of the scheme and promptly got three days’ cells for smoking after 10 o’ clock by which hour we were all supposed to be in bed. He brought with him into the Jug a file, the necessary money, and anything else that was required to help in the escape.

This Lieut. Medlicott escaped from every camp that the Huns put him into, and was the most dare devil fellow I ever met. In all I think he escaped over twenty times but never successfully, for on his last attempt he and another officer, Capt. Walters, were foully murdered by the Hun guard who were taking them back to the camp, Hun excuse being that they had tried to run away from an armed guard.

The bars  of Parker's cell were soon filed through but left in position. His cell the end room facing the wooden barricade so that after they were out all they had to do was to crawl along this barricade to the outer wire, cut this and they were free. The night when the guard chanced, the rest of us were asked to stay in our rooms and make as little noise as possible so as to avoid bringing any of the Huns along the passage to see what the noise was about. Blain fixed up his door so that he could open it from the inside and about 10 o’clock he went along to Parker’s room where it did not take them long to get safely outside the camp, the wire cutters which were used to cut the wire being handed through the window of the next cell. To the rest of it was maddening to think that here was a way out just asking to be used, but as none of us had sufficient food, maps or a compass, it would have only been asking for further troube to have made use of it.

Blain and Parker took the train next morning to a small station just outside the town of DUSSELDORF into which they walked and crossed the Rhine, their chief obstacle, by the tram car as they noticed that all civilians walking over the bridge had to show some sort of passport.  This is a typical example of German thoroughness.

When some miles clear of the town, they stopped in a wood to have something to eat and to have a look at their map, but while engaged in doing so a gamekeeper appeared on the scene and they both took to their heels, one going off with all the food and the other with the map and compass. Blain got to within a mile of the Frontier and thinking he was safely over, having no map, gave himself up at what he took to be a Dutch Frontier Block House, only it turned out to be a German instead and so he was brought back to the camp to undergo a further sentence for this plucky attempt.

Parker fared little better for in swimming across a small river he lost every stitch of clothing he had, probably through not having them tied securely enough to his shoulders, and for two days he wandered about the country naked, at the end of which time he was forced to give himself up at a German farmhouse where he was told he was within half a kilometre of the Frontier, truly a case of very hard luck after so fine an attempt. He was taken to a German Guard house and given the uniform of a German soldier. Next day while sitting on a seat at the station waiting on the train to take him back to the camp, his guard of three were explaining to the stationmaster and a crowd of villagers all about his experiences, when the bold Parker jumped over the low wall of the station and beat it up a lane for all he was fit, accompanied by a volley from his surprised guard. This time he did not fare much better but ran into a German Patrol right on the Frontier.

 End of 40 Days

Towards the end of my sentence I was told by the Huns that I was to be moved to another camp. They always did this for some reason best known to themselves, which was exactly what we wanted as it was always fresh ground to make another attempt on. If they had kept us in the same camp all its possible means of escape would have been used up and it may soon have become nigh impossible to find any means of getting away.

[To be continued...]

Part 4: Lecture by 2nd Lt Jock Tullis MC RFC on 23rd March 1921

This is more from Jock's lecture  As before, it's copied verbatim so please excuse any typos and 'of the time' language.

About January or February of 1917 persistent rumours began to go round that the Huns were concentrating all the British in camps by themselves.    I believe their idea in having mixed nationalities in the camps at first was based on the hope that we might quarrel among ourselves, but when we did not do anything of the kind - all being at one in our hatred of the enemy — they decided it would be easier to handle us if each nationality were in camps of their own.

Be that as it may, orders were received at Osnabruck at the beginning of the year that the British were to be moved to another camp. Leaving that camp will always be remembered by those who were there. After our luggage and ourselves were searched for "verboten" articles we were all lined up in the square preparatory to being marched off to the station, The French and Russians who were of course watching the proceedings, started to sing their respective National Anthems and followed this by giving three vociferous cheers for their British-Comrades, to which we enthusiastically replied. Things began to hum then. The Kommandt first went red in the face and then white with anger and drawing his sword he made a rush at the French and Russians but when he saw they were waiting for him with an ugly look on their faces he deemed discretion was the better part of valour, and turning, ran back to the waiting sentries, ordered them to fix their bayonets and charge the crowd of Officers who by this time had all disappeared inside the house, the doors of which were locked and I expect were kept so for the remainder of the day as a punishment.

We were chased out of camp after that with a long line of sentries on each side of the column, to see that nobody tried to hop it. This was extremely unlikely as it was freezing hard and the ground was several inches deep in snow. Even the boldest spirits would hardly have dared to face a week of this in the open and preferred to wait for better conditions; After a long Journey we arrived late that night at Clausthal station, being a small place high up in the Hartz Mountains, amidst very beautiful scenery. The camp faced the famous Lochan into which as our History book has it the Pied Piper marched the Children of Hamlin.

We were not to see the camp that day, however, because we learned that the party of French whose place we were taking; were not due to leave until the next day. We were all shut up in the refreshment room with our guards for the night. The Hun in charge of our party was either a bit of a sport or else he had been told that the British Officers were a hard drinking lot and that if he could get us all pretty happy, there was less chance of any of us trying to escape. 

Be that as it may, he ordered the fellow who kept the refreshment room to do his best. His best was quite a large plateful of cold bacon and actually white bread a thing we all thought was quite unobtainable in Germany. Also he had a large and splendid cellar of pre-war German wines which he handed out without any question of price being asked. We heard about that later. The first job we set ourselves to accomplish after having satisfied our hunger was to get as many of our guard incapable in as short a time as possible. In this I am glad to say we were entirely successful as all our guard were very soon dragged into a small room adjoining ours and the door shut on them for the night. 

I expect they were like us in that they had not tasted such stuff since the War started and not much of it even before that. I sorry to say, however, that in making the Huns incapable, a great many of our own fellows were pretty much in the same condition. One amusing story is told of a hitherto teetotal young officer, who on half a glass of port wine went striding up and down the room wearing a German Helmet and brandishing a German Rifle left behind by one of the now snoring sentries and vowing dire vengeance on the first Hun that happened to come through the door. Lucky for him and probably the rest of us, none of them did, and the bold young officer soon fell asleep with the rest of his weary comrades.

The following morning we had to plough our way up to the camp a distance of perhaps two miles, although to some with sore heads it probably seemed like ten, through some two or three feet of snow. Those with little to carry fared best. Some individuals were carrying almost all they possessed and by the time the camp was reached it was nearly a question of carrying the owners also.

Arrived at the carp we found the departing French Officers who were to take our places in Osuabruck ready to move Off. In the brief interval allowed, we did our best to tell them what   sort of a place they were going to, they in turn giving us their opinion of our new camp . We later on heard by channels peculiar to prison camps that the French in Osuabruck were badly strafed for some time by the Huns whose excuse was that the French were ill-treating their prisoners.

Clausthal camp was supposed to be one of the best in Germany and for the first few weeks we certainly found it a great improvement on Osuabruck. To begin with the German Kommandt was a gentleman and did his best for us. Most of the British prisoners we found to be 1914 people, the majority being of field rank which probably accounted for the better conditions we found prevailing in Clausthal.

The weather here is really worth a word or two in passing. From January to the end of April we never saw the colour of the ground, the snow lying to a depth of several feet, and the camp being high it was naturally very cold, but a beautiful crisp, dry cold which one did not feel to the same extent as in this country. We were allowed to ski and toboggan inside the camp. The Toboggan run was a very fine piece of work, for although the space was very limited the run took innumerable twists, turns, steep upgrades and small precipitant drops running over which, created great excitement. Altogether Clausthal for the first few weeks was the happiest time I had in Germany. Our home letters and parcels were arriving regularly and we were left more or less to ourselves by the Huns, so that for prisoners of War, apart from how long our imprisonment might have to be undured, we had very little to grumble at.

But alas; this state of things was not to be enjoyed for long. About the end of February orders were received by the Kommandt, from the 10th Corp Headquarters at Hanover that reprisals were to be taken against all British Officers in this command for some alleged cruelty to German prisoners in England , and our gentlemanly Kommandt rather than have the carrying into effect of these reprisals resigned his command, his place being taken by one of the now famous Neimeyer brothers. The English Press from time to time have published stories of their ill treatment to prisoners. Probably some of these stories were only half believed, but of all the Huns I was unfortunate enough to run against I never met the equal of these two brothers. Short of actually killing anyone, although they both tried to do so several times, they did their utmost to make our lives as miserable as possible. 

Picture to yourself a big, stout, overfed brute, With a very florid complexion, small bright blue eyes, close cropped hair and a square aggressive jaw with a cigar always stuck in the corner of a large flabby mouth, and you have got the Neimeyer Brethren to a T, for I never saw twins so much the living image of each other as these two were. This particular one at started off by trying the Hail-fellow-well—met stunt on us, but soon found by experience that he did not get much change and so went to the other extreme and did everything in his power to show us he was the Cock-of—the-walk. One order he used to try and enforce was that we must all salute him when he came into the camp, and it must always have been a humiliating sight to him to see the crowd of officers who were always to be found on his approach and walk the stopped, and in addition our time were stopped altogether the camp, turn their backs other way. Walks and all games were soon stopped, parcels started to go missing and at one for six weeks because someone had helped himself to a German overcoat, the order being given out that until it was returned we could starve. 

Needless to say we did not give in and the coat was never returned but figured prominently months later in a very clever escape when a naval officer successfully impersonated Neimeyer himself. This state Of things was brought to a close by a visit from Berlin of a member of the staff Of the Kreigsministerum from whom we obtained some slight redress. The breaking up of winter set a large number thinking of escape and a tunnel was started by a select party, below our wooden barrack

[To be continued...]

Part 3: Lecture by 2nd Lt Jock Tullis MC RFC on 23rd March 1921

This is more from Jock's lecture describing his experiences in his first POW camp in 1916.  As before, this is copied verbatim so please excuse any typos and 'of the time' language as this is being copied from a poor quality PDF.

This is about all I had the opportunity of seeing in Gutersloh, for a few days later 44 of we Flying Corps Officers were lined up and told we had to leave the camp for another destination, so off we went one fine morning, arriving late that afternoon at Osnabruck some 70 miles from the Dutch frontier and a good deal further north than Gutersloh.

OSNABRUCK

On arrival we were all put into a lot of small rooms in a wing of the camp and kept shut in for 16 days, only being allowed out for half an hour each evening. The food was awful, and if it hadn’t been that we were able to buy some Swiss chocolate and Dutch cheese at the canteen for the first 10 days, I think some of us would have pegged out. The daily fare was something like this:-

A cup of coffee for breakfast and a small bit of dry bread.

Dinner - A plate of soup made from vegetables and absolutely devoid of any fat, with here and there a potato floating about.

Sometimes the menu was varied with pickled herring or eels, but never with meat of any description.

A cup of coffee at night completed the days supply of food to us. I may say that this camp was, during the first two months, one of the worst I was in, for until those at home could send out food and clothes we were half starved and one and all very ill for about a week, the result of eating the stuff the Huns called food. During the 16 days' confinement we were always asking the Huns why we were shut up and when we were to be allowed out to join the other prisoners, but were always given the same answer “I don’t know, Tomorrow perhaps", or some such answer. It was some months later that we learned from the Agent of the American Ambassador the real reason.   It seems that the British  had captured a Zeppelin in which they had found poisonous tracer bullets and had taken the crew of 22, court-martialled them, and sentenced them to be shot, but I thank Heaven that sentence was never carried out otherwise the 44 of us would have had short shrift.

After our food and clothes arrived from home things improved a bit and we were given small rooms with three or four in a room , allowed to do our own cooking and were generally left pretty much to ourselves. Later we were allowed to go out for walks on parole, and to visit the Dentist in the town. I think nearly everyone in that camp amongst the British officers had something or other wrong with their teeth. Our first German Kommandnt was a gentlemanly old fellow treated us to the best of his limited ability, 'out of course always had to carry out any reprisal orders that were sent from the 10th Corps Hqrs. at Hanover. Unfortunately, although I was in five different camps I never got away this Corp whose General Von Hunish later became famous for his ill treatment of British prisoners of war. We soon learnt that he at one time had command of a Regiment on the British front but had made a mess of things and had to retire in disgrace. He also had a son killed on this front, so it is easy to understand he did not love the British.

Later on our old Kommandt had to leave through ill health dying shortly before we left this camp. The man that took his place was a swine of the very worst type starting off by telling us he would do everything in his power to make our yoke as light as possible, but on the contrary doing everything possible to annoy us in a hundred and one small ways. Searches were one of his chief delights but as we were all new prisoners with not much thought of escape I don 't quite know what he hoped to get. We always knew to a day when these searches were coming off, having made a friend of one of his under Corporals who in exchange of a few tins of food always told us all he knew about what new piece of frightfulness the Kommandt was planning.

It was through this source of information that we were able to stop what would unquestionably have been the undoing of three of our fellows.

Leggatts Attempt at Osnabruck

We had been keeping so quiet that the Kommandt evidently got it into his head that none of the British were thinking of escape and to save coal he had for some time been putting out all the bright lights that surrounded the camp and were of course usually kept burning all night. Three of our fellows had got together enough food to last them about a week, which would be ample time to walk the 70 odd kilometers that were between us and Freedom. Everything ready, they had determined to try one night at a quiet corner of the camp by being lowered out of a nearby window. The day before the escape was planned to take place, however, our friend the Corporal informed us he had a great secret to learn which would cost the Herrn as they called us, a few more tins than usual. These being forthcoming, he told us in a very guarded voice that the Kommandt had been told that three British Officers were going to try and escape that night and had got 6 crack shots up from the town to be in wait near the spot from which the attempt was to be made. This news was speedily conveyed to our friend who decided to postpone the attempt and to try and spot if the report was true. Such proved to be the case, for that night the lights were left off as usual and some Huns were seen crawling on all fours to a spot near which our three friends were coming out.

The Huns must have wondered why no escape was attempted and after this the lights were always left on, also a few days later the room in which our friends stayed was swooped down upon and thoroughly searched, most of their gear being seized and they themselves being marched off to the cells where they spent a week for being in possession of verboten articles, compasses, maps, etc. I never learned where they got these articles but expect it was through bribery, all our later experiences going to prove that so long as one attempted to bribe a single Hun it usually came off, but we found it fatal to try it on two or more, one or the other of them always giving the secret away to gain favour and promotion.

Frenchman Straffed

What worried us about the foregoing was who had told the Huns about this attempt and we were not long in finding out that it was one of the foreigners of pretty high rank who stayed in a room to himself on our flat, the rest of which were all British. We heard doubtful stories of this officer's past in the early days of the War and so a meeting was held by whom it was decided that his removal was a necessity for our safety in any future attempts to escape. How to do it was a question, as we could not very well stick a knife into his ugly carcass. The way it was ultimately carried out was rather amusing. Five or six bright youths collected all the jam and treacle that could be spared, and one night about midnight they went to his room, pulled him out of bed, and covered him from head to foot with this filthy mess. They then retired to bed, leaving the foreign officer running downstairs to the Hun Guards, screaming at the top of his voice that the British had tried to murder him and that he was covered with blood, the blood of course being the jam with which he had been liberally anointed. Next day was an exciting one and we were all locked up being allowed no food until the fellows who had carried out the reprisal had owned up. They were court-marshalled and fined 500 marks, which by the way, as far as I know, was never paid.

French Escape at Osnabruck

The only other escape that took place was a piece of pretty cool cheek on the part of two Frenchmen. They cut the wire in broad daylight within a few yards of a sentry whose vision was obscured by a wall. When safely outside, one of them discovered he had forgotten part of his provisions so calmly came back through the hole, collected his stuff and went out again in the same way, their escape not being discovered for several although the hole they had cut was right under the sentry's nose, practically all the time. They were out six days they were caught walking through a village. The punishment was three weeks' cells and moved off to another camp at the end of it. We spent our first Christmas in captivity here. It wasn't a very bright celebration I am afraid, but made the best of things such as they were, and looking back on this now, apart from the hundred and one petty strafes which the Huns always took a delight in inflicting we really had not much to grumble about and a good deal to be thankful for as bitter experiences in the future were to show.

[To be continued...]

Part 2: Lecture by 2nd Lt Jock Tullis MC RFC on 23rd March 1921

This is a continuation of Jock's lecture describing his capture and transport to his first POW camp.  As before, this is copied verbatim so please excuse any typos and 'of the time' language.

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...]

Lecture by 2nd Lt Jock Tullis MC RFC on 23rd March 1921

We are now 10 days away from the Centenary of Jock's escape and the start of our commemorative run from Holzminden to Losser. 

We will be recounting his memoirs as we pass through the various towns and villages he travelled through during his journey to freedom but before we set off, it is worth providing the background to his capture which paints a fascinating picture of what life was like for a young man in the RFC.

The following is taken from a lecture Jock gave on the 23rd March 1921.  The audience is as yet unknown but I am trying to find out more detail and excuse any typos and 'of the time' language - I have copied this verbatim from some rough, typed notes that have been photocopied many times.

Dear. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen,

I have been prevailed upon to deliver this lecture much against my will, firstly and chiefly because of inexperience as a public orator and secondly because so much has already been said and written in the Press and elsewhere ui0fi the subject on which I am going to speak. There have been a great number of escapes from Germany by both Officers and men, some extraordinary cl ever ones and some the very opposite. If I have time at the end of this lecture I propose to so over a few of these which I consider the most clever.

Our own experiences were quite common, as tunnelling was one of the most popular methods employed in getting out of Prison Camps. If successful it ensured one of a nice quiet comfortable start of several hours before daylight disclosed the exit to the ever-watchful Hun. This is more than can be said for some of the other methods adapted by some of our dare devil fellow prisoners who were quite glad if got twenty yards start before being noticed and then had to leg it for all they were worth usually accompanied by rapid shooting from nearest sentries.

I shall begin by saying a few words as to how I was unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of Hun.

On September 6th, 1916 1 was one of four 2-seater Sopwiths sent out on a long reconnaissance our destination being a village nearly eighty miles behind the Lines. All went well on the outward journey except that two of the machines had to turn back owing, we presume to engine failure. On the return journey I was attacked by three Hun machines which proved to be a good deal faster than my own machine. In the first minute of the fight my observer was unfortunately knocked out with an explosive bullet through the left jaw and to make matters worse my own machine gun jammed, leaving us in a pretty hopeless position. However, I cleared the gun and we managed to drive off the Huns leaving us to go on feeling very thankful we had got out of it so well. Our satisfaction was however short-lived for we  had not gone far when my engine showed signs that all was not well with its internal mechanism finally giving up the Ghost by seizing completely up.

Nothing for it now but to get down as best we could and land as we were still some sixty miles behind the lines, but our feelings can be better realized than talked about when we knew we were out of everything for the rest of the War and not knowing how the Hun would receive us.

In landing I crashed into a group of field telephone wires turning the machine over on her back and effectively putting her out of commission so far as the Huns were concerned. We had just time to set  fire to the wreckage when we were surrounded by a yelling horde of Huns and taken to a motor—car which came up where we waited until the Huns had tried to put the fire out in the machine.

INTEROGATION

We were taken off, after my observer's face had been roughly patched up by a Hun doctor, to a sort of German G.H.G. where I was asked by two observers of the German Flying Corp to admit that each of them in turn had shot me down. Needless to say, I did nothing of the sort.

 My observer was then taken off to a village Hospital where we said goodbye, not meeting again until a week or two ago when we ran into one another in the lounge of the Queen's Hotel in Leeds. I am glad to be able to say that but for a bad scar on the left cheek he is otherwise all right. They then took me to a Brigade Headquarters where they showed me a large map of France and politely asked me to point out the place where our Aerodrome was and when I refused they proceeded to show me the exact spot I had left only an hour or two before. Not only did they tell me this but also the number of my Wing, my C.o’s name, the type of machine I was flying and how long we had been in France and asked me if all the foregoing was not true. I spinned them a great old yarn in reply which anybody but a Hun would not have believed, my later experiences all went to show that so long as your tale was at all feasable they would believe any rot one liked to tell them.

Having been interrogated I was next taken by a German Staff Officer to his billet in a tumbledown squalid farm where he occupied the one and only sitting—room and where I was allowed to have a wash and a brush up. His diminutive servant, a fierce looking little fellow, then armed himself with a rifle which was about as big as himself, and after fixing his bayonet to the rifle I was marched out to a waiting motor—car and told to take the back seat, my fierce guard occupying the one beside the driver, another sullen, wooden—faced looking brute. By this time it was growing dark so that I could not see much of the country we were passing through. We passed two very cunningly concealed Aerodromes, the hangers in both cases being built under a large wood so that practically nothing would be shown to our fellows from the air. On both Aerodromes they were sending up powerful red Very's lights to attract the attention of any of their own pilots who might have got lost or had forced landings away from the Aerodrome. 

On went the car passing troups and transports of every description. At one place we passed a group of about one hundred French Tommies who were being marched towards St. Quentin under a strong guard of Uhlans.

The car I was in was either a dud or had not had its engine looked at for months, because on anything like an ordinary hill it slowed down almost to a walking pace which fact slowly penetrated to my dulled wits and an idea of escape began to take shape. I thought that on the next hill when the car slowed down if I were quick I could hop over the back and be far enough away before the sentry realized I had gone, to bring down to a minimum the chance of his hitting me on such a dark night as that was, although it was only the beginning of September. However, my hopes came to nothing for on the next and last decent hill while we were going up at a snail's pace, a long line of fresh looking Infantry were marching down, and I did not like the idea of trying anything foolish in the face of some few hundred rifles. A shout of and a light flashing in front brought the car to a standstill when two armed Hun soldiers accompanied by a Unteroffizier came and demanded to see the driver’s papers. Followed five minutes of guttural conversation mostly composed of "Ya’s” "Hein's"  "Ach's” and "Hoch's” after which they came and grinned like apes at me until the car moved on.

Very soon we stopped outside formidable looking building surrounded by a huge stone wall some twenty feet high, I afterwards found. An immense iron gate was opened and I invited to step inside and so said goodbye to Freedom for twenty three months to come.

[To be continued...]