Old Comrades
As night fell on that second evening, we started to cross the open country once more. By sound from the railways and direction from the night sky, we made our way southwards again. We made good progress in the circumstances, and we stopped at regular intervals to check the compass bearing as well as we could in the darkness. Once we bumped into a couple of German railway workers who were inquisitive enough to question us. George told them that we were Frenchmen, but they tried to detain us, and we finally swung out wildly at them with our full rucksacks, and beat it as fast as we could.
Walking again throughout the night, we were feeling very tired by morning, and wanting to hole up somewhere. We approached the railway lines once more, and not far from a station we found some air raid shelters. They were well-built, with separate "wings" leading off the main corridor, each containing four or six bunk beds, without bedding. We crept along about halfway, and were very pleased to rest our weary legs. We slept very well, in fact. When I awoke at about 6.30 in the evening, I roused the other two and suggested it was about time we prepared to move. George felt very sluggish, and wanted to sleep some more. Although I was impatient, I waited for him to recover for some time. Eventually, I told him that we had to go - it was getting late for us to start our night trek.
We had just about got ourselves into order with all our clothes on, when we heard approaching footsteps along the dark concrete passageway, and before we could leave our little cell, we were confronted by two railwaymen, obviously supervisors, both with flashlights and both armed with revolvers. We tried to convince them we were French workers who had missed their train to their lodgings, but without success. We were made to go with them at the point of their guns, and were soon in the hands of the German Army again. We were locked up for the night in a small building used as a temporary prison, with plenty of guards outside. Every time we made some movement, there was a huge commotion, and the guard commander came in two or three times to threaten us that we would be shot if we dared to attempt any further escape!
Eventually, we were returned to our working camp, where the NCO in charge ("Unterfeldwebel") was in dire trouble for allowing us to escape. We were bullied, threatened, pushed around and generally manhandled, but not with any serious injury. The guards demanded to know how we had escaped, and who had helped us. We misled them very well with our prepared story, and they did not get any useful information.
The first direct result of our escapade was that all Red Cross parcels from that time were opened in front of all prisoners, before being issued, and every can of food was punctured with a bayonet, so that it could not be stored or hoarded for escape purposes. Tin cans in those days were not safe, and food contained in them would cause Ptomaine poisoning if left inside for more than a few days,