ESCAPE FROM ENEMY

Wairarapa Times-Age, 24 July 1942, Page 4

ESCAPE FROM ENEMY

IN THE WESTERN DESERT MADE BY MASTERTON OFFICER. RETURN TO BRITISH LINES IN CAPTURED TRUCK. (Received This Day, 10.45 a.m.) (Official War Correspondent, N.Z.E.F.) RUWEISAT RIDGE. July 21. A fifty-mile trek, some of it on bare feet, and a daring clash through the German lines in a captured truck, which was being chased by enemy armoured cars, were among the experiences of a young divisional cavalry officer, Lieutenant Jim Logan, of Masterton, who rejoined his unit after five days’ captivity. With five English officers, who joined him in an escape from Sidi Barrani, he sucked moisture from camel weed roots to ease his parched throat after many hours in the burning desert with, out food or water. Lieutenant Logan was captured a fortnight ago, when his patrolling Bren-carrier was ambushed on an escarpment by an outpost of heavily-armed Italians. Caught between anti-tank and machine-gun fire, and with grenades bursting about them, the carrier crew were forced to surrender. The Italians took their prisoners hastily to El Daba, where they were left for two days before being taken to Mersa Matruh. Shortly afterwards. Lieutenant Logan was separated from his men. At Mersa Matruh he made his first attempt to escape. In the darkness, he became entangled in barbed wire and had to abandon his attempt. On the next afternoon, he was put on a truck with other officers and told that he was being taken to Tobruk, to join a ship for Italy. The New Zealander had other ideas and again he began to plan his escape. All night, at their first halt about five miles west of Sidi Barrani, he lay awake on a low ridge, awaiting his opportunity. About an hour before dawn, it came. German infantry about fifty yards away were not watching and two sentries on the ridge had walked around to talk with two on the opposite side. The New Zealander crept away into the darkness, and five English officers, one of whom had already escaped for ten days, followed him. They headed south until daylight, when they hid themselves for a day in abandoned Italian trenches. Under cover of night they headed towards the road, hoping to hold up a truck. All night they trekked on. heading south. Again before daylight they hid for another exhausting day of no water or food. After a further unsuccessful night march in search of transport they were forced to suck the scant moisture from the roots of desert weeds, so acute was their thirst. That night a startled Italian awoke in his truck to find six thirsty and bearded British officers standing over him.

The Italian was only too willing to hand over cigarettes, bread and canned potatoes, which gave the officers the first w,ater they had since their escape. None of them could start the Italian Deisel truck, so before daybreak they marched inland again. A German staff car parked on the roadside was a prize that offered itself on the following night. “We were just about to take it when we noticed that it had a flat tire,” Lieutenant Logan told me today. “Coming away, I tripped on a petrol tin about the place and woke every Jerry in the neighbourhood, but we escaped unnoticed. One German and one Italian, with a captured British truck, further along the road, surrendered easily when pieces of piping, used to represent pistol barrels, were jabbed in their backs. They were left by the roadside, under a blanket, with their hands bound with telephone cable.” Draining petrol from the tanks of abandoned trucks and drinking water from their radiators, the officers drove south-east across the open desert towards our lines. At the end of the second day, they were near the positions we had occupied when the New Zealander was captured, but which had been taken over by the enemy. Although they passed within fifteen yards of an enemy convoy, the British officers, in their beards and Italian hats, were not recognised. “Once, when a gun went off directly behind, us, we thought we had been spotted, but they were only shelling our lines.” Lieutenant Logan'said. The party hid until dark, and then made a dash towards our lines. Two armoured cars chased them, but they did not halt until they reached a friendly patrol. Even though his sand boots had worn out and he ha_d covered over five miles of the trek on bare feet, Lieutenant Logan was little the worse for his experiences. On the same day as he reached the New Zealand lines, he was with his squadron again, ready for more patrols.