ESCAPE FROM GERMANY

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 91, 10 January 1918, Page 9

ESCAPE FROM GERMANY

OFFICER'S THRILLING EXPERIENCES

SIX DAYS AND NIGHTS IN THE OPEN

Captain John Eldred Mott, 48th Battalion, who prior to his enlistment two years ago was a mining engineer employed at Kalgoorlio and other places on the goldfields, and was wounded and captured at Bullecourt iive months ago, told to a London correspondent a thrilling story of his recent escape from a prisoners' encampment in Uermany. Hβ is now in good health, having bad the advantage of nearly a fortnight's rost and recupera-, tion at a quarantine camp in Holland, but at the time he made his escape he was still suffering from unhealed wounds, of which ho received no fewer than four, all serious, at Bullecourt, where ho was left unconscious on the field. The Germans found him in that condition and Bent him first to hospital and subsequently, when ho became convalescent, to an officers' camp (oi prison, as ho prefers to call it) at Strohen, about 100 miles from the Dutch border. There he remained until he effected his escape. Another Australian officer, Lieutenant H. C. Fitzgerald, escaped with him, and they remained together until the fifth night, when Captain Mott missed his companion while swimming a river, and fears that he was recaptured.

Planning and Scheming. Captain Mott said: Fitzgerald and 1 had been at work on t'ne quiet, planning and scheming for somo time. What our plans were, or how wo finally escaped from the prison, it were better, in the- interests of other prisoners, not to mention; suffice it to say that it took us some considerable timo before we were ready—both for the attempt at the prison, and for the long journey across the enemy's country, for it is as well to remember that wo could not hope to obtain food onca wo got away. Tho night came at last when everything was ready. At last the bugle sounded "quarter warning" for everyone to turn in and get to bed, and our hopes dropped accordingly; however, we wero determined to wait and watch to tho very last minute. Then it came to tho last

five minutes, then last minute, then the last bugle started its long, hateful call. Just at that moment the par-

ticular sentry we were watching filtered his position a little and was watch-

ing the bugler, but that indulgence Itisi him two prisoners and his own liberty

for in five seconds we were yards awey, racing for life, dodging between outbuildings, flying across a potato fiold, and out into the almost impassable moor which surrounds our late "home." Arm in afm we covered mile after mile across that lonely moor past fiilent farmhouses, past sleeping villages, all night we kept pnj and just before daybreak flung ourselves down in a wood regardless of the wet ground and tho misty rain. Each day one of us was constantly on the watch. Luckily there was usually plenty of good water as we travelled,- but we after-

wards found it difficult to find both water and hiding-place through tho

day, when, of course, we dare nol move. ■ On the second night of our pilgrimage wo spent many weary hours try-

ing to cross some flat, wet country that was traversed at all-too-frequont intervals with watercourses and big drains, too wide, often, to leap over, and too deep to wade through, so we walked many an .extra m'le to find crossings.

At one time We "were lying down taking a well-earned rest under a hedge at tho side of a so-called road. AYe had just■• climbed over a gate that blocked the road at that point, and were, as usual,, speaking in whispers, when I saw a. head: come up over the gate, then a. body. Then the intruder cocked one leg over the gate, and just as he did so there was a low whistle from somewhere a few yards away in a'nothor direction. The man on the gate- got down and crept through the hedge very quietly, and we could hear him.making his way across to his companions. Wo quickly decided to try to give them the slip, so we hurried off quietly in another direction. After wo had gone several miles along lonely tracks a voice said with startling suddenness, "Who goes there?" Our hearts dropped to our hoots, but we kept on in sileuce, and the voico came again, "Who goes there?" "Run!" I said to Fitzgerald, and we ran. Pro-

sently we came to a kind of crossing over the ditch; we turned in there, and threw ourselves down behind soma brushwood and listened. Sure enough they were coming at the double. There seemed to be three or four of them. They rushed on past our hiding placo and came to a standstill further down the road, and we attempted to make our way across the marsh to some bushes a few yards away, but as we went we sank up to our knees in the soft slush, and they must have heard us, for by the time we reached tho cover of the .bushes they were almost on us, and in fact were evidently surrounding us. I signed to my com' panion to lie perfectly still, and as we lay there prone our pursuers stood still to listen.

A Near Squeak. I noticed that there eeemed to be a man standing in whichever direction I looked, and one was evidently searching through our hiding -place. It looked a million to one on us being caught this time, but 1 decided to "give it a fly," as '«'e say, so I explained my plan to Fitzgerald, and we started to wriggle, ever so slowly and carefully, through the grass in the direction of another patch of coyer' some yards away. Luckily the wind was blowing and rustling through the bushes, and that prevented our "friends" hearing us as we got gradually further and further away. We got clear away again into an awful bit !of moor and 'bog country. Sometimes on our heads, sometimes on our heels, we struggled on, doubling on cur tracks, walking in water courses, and walking backwards, to put dogs and men otf the track. We finally fell flop into a bunch of hrush and stayed there, bruised, sore, and done, but etill at liberty. On the sixth night we l.ad three rivers to cross. We crossed the first by means of a bridge. I. slipped an extra pair of socks over my rboots and tip-toed silently across a bridge of the second, reached the other side, and stood looking about, when suddenly tho bushes quite close to mo rustled and a voice said "Halt.!" My heart sank, but I managed somehow to say "Friend!" (in Gorman), and immediately turned about and i walked back towards Fitzgerald, spi pnreutly quite unconcerned. "Halt! i and again, still walking. ■ I ! wondered where tho bullet would strike me and resisted a terribly strong inclination to run. But lie never fired. When I got back we hurried off in another direction and canio to tho bank of. the river again lower down, and decided to swim it. I had got about three-parts of the distanceI when I hoard again that hateful '• "Haiti" I can assure you I did not halt; I got to tho bank, struggled up with all my gear in my arms, bolted down the other side, and fell wallop into a big, muddy ditch, the sentry shouting meanwhile to the others to head me off. I crawled out again, and made even timo lor the pine forest, which I reached in safety, but I had ■ lost my dear old pal, Fitzgerald. I hoped ho had been able to doublo back ! again, but, though I waited long, he never came, so I can only conclude tho poor chap is in prison again. Shivering with the cnlrl I hurried along ss well as I could in the blackness of the for-

ost, and after about two hours came on to a sight which almost deprived me of what spirit I had loftr—a sheet of water fully 250 yards wide! I stood aghast. I could never do it in my present weak condition. I. sat down in utter despair.

Nearly Drowned. Presently, however, my hopes rose again, and I decided to try it, but I was as nearly drowned as I cared to be. In my struggles tlio bundle had slipped off ray head, and was hanging by the cord that I had tied round it and under my chin, and was now doing its best to choke me. It was a struggle as to whether I shonld get to the bank before the cord choked me. Tho bank won, but when I grabbed for a branch that hung over I was unablo to drag myself out, and just lay there in the mud. After a while my spirits bounded up again. I seemed to he walking on air as I sped across the field, making for the forest again. No sentry saw me, and, light-hearted as a schoolboy, in spite of cold and wet clothes, 1 covered several more miles before day began to break. I had no idea of time, as my watch (a keepsake I had pressrved through all my travels at tho front and in captivity) had gone to tho bottom during my struggles in the river, but by dawn I was within three miles of my goal—the frontier! During the whole of that day—the longest of my life—l stood on the one spot, swinging my arms, stampfng my loot, making every conceivable kind of contortion to try to keep out the cold and forget tho hunger. (I had lost my remaining food.) At last night came— the great night. In a few short houre now I would either bo a free man or in prison again. As I started off I determined I should fight for freedom with my last ounce of utrongth. I spent the first hour dodging through fieldn and hedges, reconnoitring railways and roads, and making sure of my exact position on the map. Then I sot off across tho last two miles of open moor pnd swamp to the border and freedom."