FourFifty Miles to Freedom 6

FourFifty Miles to Freedom 6

The biscuit-making concern was run regardless of expense. A pound of

flour was costing at that time two shillings, sugar ten shillings,

sultanas five; and eggs three pence apiece. (These, by the way, were

only about half of what we soon after found ourselves paying at

Yozgad.) The final cost was something like half-a-crown a biscuit.

 

For their escapes Keeling and his companions had decided, if

questioned, to say that they were a German survey party, and for this

purpose had forged a letter purporting to come from the commandant of

the Angora Division, and ordering all whom it might concern to help

them in every way. They had written to say this letter had been of the

greatest assistance to them. As we were going in a different direction,

we thought that the same story would serve again. Grunt, being the best

Turkish scholar of the party, accordingly drafted a suitable legend in

a crisp style such as might be expected to emanate from Enver Pasha's

pen; while Johnny, aided by infinite patience and a bit of blue carbon

paper, set to work and produced a faithful imitation of an office stamp

found on a Turkish receipt. We hoped that the elaborated lettering of

such a crest would be as little intelligible to the average Ottoman as

it was to ourselves, but as a matter of interest decided to show the

original to our Greek interpreter and casually ask its meaning. It was

as well we did so, for it was the stamp of the Prisoners-of-War Camp,

Changri.

 

After this unfortunate set-back, our pair put their heads together, and

finally evolved a design of their own, bearing the inscription: "Office

of the Ministry of War, Stamboul."

 

All this time, of course, we were subjecting ourselves to a course of

rigorous training--football, running in the early mornings, Müller's

exercises, and cold baths. We spent half the day walking round and

round the exercise-field, wearing waistcoats weighing twenty pounds.

These, if disclosed from under the coat, would have reminded any one

but a Turkish observer of one of those advertisements of a well-known

firm of tyre-makers; for each waistcoat was lined with a series of

cloth tubes filled with sand.

 

Nobby, who detested sewing more than any of us, went to the trouble of

making a practice rucksack holding sixty pounds of earth. The whole of

our last few weeks at Changri, one may say, were spent by the party in

preparing for the escape in one way or another.

 

On the evening of the 10th April 1918 the cart transport for our

journey drove into the barrack square and there parked for the night.

Orders came from the commandant that we were to start next day, so we

decided that before we went to bed our preparations should be completed.

 

A light ladder was made by which to climb up into the roof;

drinking-water was taken up in buckets and hidden there; a window-frame

in the east wing was prepared so that the iron bars could be withdrawn;

and we made certain, by going through a list, that our packs contained

all that we had decided to take. The latter were then unpacked and they

and their contents placed in two boxes, each of which had a false

bottom. Here were concealed our most incriminating and at the same time

our most precious aids to escape: our maps, helio-mirrors, fezes, and

compasses. The boxes were then locked, strongly bound with rope, and

labelled very appropriately, "Trek Stores."

 

For the work on hand that night the occasion was an excellent one.

Every one was busy packing, having left this unpleasant duty till the

carts actually arrived. There was a lot of noise being made--to wit, a

blend of singing and sawing; and when at 1 A.M. we could at

last go to bed, there was still much activity around us.

 

Next morning we showed ourselves as much as possible, and took care to

find an opportunity of talking to the two camp interpreters. It was

conceivable that they might take our names in the barracks as usual

each morning, and the commandant, being satisfied that every one was

present, might omit to call roll when the move actually took place;

or alternately, in the excitement of the moment, there might be no

roll-call whatsoever.

 

On one or other of these possibilities depended the success of the

modified scheme, which stipulated that until the carts were definitely

on the move we were not to hide ourselves in the roof. Should the party

go off without a roll-call, we were allowed to leave ourselves behind.

If, on the other hand, roll was called, we had to turn up for it. This

explains the necessity for the two boxes of "Trek Stores": if we were

left behind, these could be quickly taken up into the roof; and if roll

should be called, we could hastily, and without losing our valuable

escape outfit, join the carts, carrying two boxes apparently containing

food only.

 

After loading up our own carts with the rest of our kit in case the

scheme miscarried, we took these boxes into the mess-room at the S.E.

corner of the barracks; and as the time of departure drew near, went

there ourselves and sat round a few bits of bread and an empty jam-pot.

Our excellent friend H---- promised to come and warn us should there be

a call over.

 

From the windows facing south could be seen the Angora road, and this

we watched eagerly. The barracks were quite quiet. After many minutes

a loaded cart appeared on the road followed by another. Our hopes

began to rise. The one-in-a-thousand chance might yet come off. There

were more carts moving on the road now, but to our disappointment they

suddenly stopped.

 

A few seconds later H---- dashed in. They were calling the roll. We

carried the boxes outside, there to be met by several officers who had

come back, so they said, to collect some firewood for the journey, but

really to make our late appearance as unsuspicious as possible. No

wonder we were as happy at Changri as it was possible to be, having

men like these for our companions.

 

You may think that it was not worth our while to have taken so much

trouble for so small a chance, yet you probably take a ticket in the

Derby Sweep. It was, we admit, a small chance, but the prize was a

great one, so we were unwilling to let it slip by. Although a roll-call

was held, we heard afterwards that it was only as an afterthought on

the part of Sami Bey, and despite our disappointment after coming so

near to success, we had at least the satisfaction of finding that our

late arrival caused no suspicion in the minds of our captors. After a

little difficulty in finding carts which were not too overloaded to

take our two precious boxes, our party was soon marching southwards

with the rest of the prisoners.

 

Although the direct distance from Changri to Yozgad, as the crow flies,

is barely 80 miles, the only road open to our wheeled transport was

that which runs by way of Angora: our march was then about 100 miles

longer. For the first sixty, that is to say to Angora, the country was

familiar to us, as we had marched along this route in the opposite

direction on the way to our first camp, Kastamoni, nearly two years

before. It was impossible, unfortunately, to induce our commandant to

say beforehand each day where would be the halts for the midday meal

and the next night; in fact, he did not know himself, as this was

a matter to be fought out with his brother officer in charge of the

transport. In other respects this march, like that from Kastamoni, was

a pleasing innovation after the monotony of our long confinement. After

the first few hours the escort wearied of their primary keenness, and

allowed us to march pretty well at our own pace, except for occasional

halts to allow the carts to come up. In fact, precautions against

escaping _en route_ were unexpectedly lax. On the very first day, for

instance, it was not until after dark that we halted for the night,

and a dozen officers might easily have slipped away from a party which

went to the river a few hundred yards distant to fetch water: roll-call

was not held until we marched off next morning. We had agreed amongst

ourselves, however, that we would now wait until we reached Yozgad,

and could contrive some plan by which all parties might once more have

an equal chance of escaping. It was for this reason that the above and

later opportunities to make off while on trek were allowed to slip by.

 

Half-way to Angora we came to the village of Kalijik, where we were

offered billets in the local jail, already well peopled with Turkish

criminals. On our refusing this offer, we were housed for the night in

an empty building on the edge of the village.

 

We reached Angora four days after leaving Changri, and were

accommodated in up-to-date buildings, designed by Germans as a

hospital, but since used as Turkish barracks. Luckily the particular

house in which we were billeted had not as yet been used by Turks.

During our two days here, we were allowed very fair liberty in visiting

the bazaars, the shops of which, after our six months at Changri,

appeared almost magnificent in the profusion of their wares.

 

In one of these Nobby espied a pair of real Goerz field-glasses.

Telling his companion to lure away the _posta_ who escorted them,

he entered the shop, and succeeded in purchasing the glasses, and a

schoolboy's satchel in which to conceal them, for about £18--a tall

price, and yet, if the prices of other things had been in no higher

proportion to their real value, living in Turkey would have been

comparatively cheap. In the end these glasses were of inestimable value

to our party.

 

While we were in Angora some of us went to see Sherif Bey, whose

propensity for epigram was touched upon in the opening words of our

story. As second-in-command he had accompanied us in our move from

Kastamoni to Changri. There he had been perpetually at loggerheads

with our new, as indeed he had been with our two former, commandants.

Having eventually relinquished his ambition of superseding Sami Bey,

he had recently accepted the less remunerative post of commandant

of the British rank-and-file prisoners in the Angora district. Some

of the men whom we succeeded in meeting had certain complaints to

make against their previous commandant. A deputation of officers,

therefore, waited upon his successor, who received them with a show of

great friendliness, and assured them that under his benevolent sway

such things as the looting of parcels would be impossible. Whether he

fulfilled his promises we are not yet in a position to say; the fact

remains that he treated very badly the five officers who stayed behind

a few extra days for dental and medical treatment, asserting that they

had only stopped in Angora with a view to escape.

 

Moreover, there were at this very time under Sherif Bey's orders

two submarine officers who had been sent from the camp at

Afion-Kara-Hissar, and were to join our convoy when it went on to

Yozgad. Since their arrival in Angora a week before, they had been

confined to the only hotel and had not once been allowed to visit

the bazaar. One of the two was Lieut.-Commander A. D. Cochrane (now

Commander Cochrane, D.S.O.), who was destined to play the leading

rôle in the eventual escape of our particular party. The other was

Lieut.-Commander S----. These two had, with one other naval officer,

attempted to escape from the camp at Kara-Hissar, but had been

recaptured when within sight of the sea; they had since spent ten

months in a common Turkish jail.

 

Lieut.-Commander S---- had also been sent to Constantinople under

somewhat amusing circumstances. Whilst he was in the P.O.W. camp at

Kara-Hissar an order arrived one day ordering that two officers of high

birth and closely connected with the British aristocracy should be

selected and sent to Constantinople. Thereupon a list was prepared of

officers related to Labour Candidates, Dukes, Members of Parliament,

&c. Thinking that this promised at least a jaunt in Constantinople,

S---- had claimed descent from the bluest blood of England. After

consideration of the rival claims, he and one other were selected.

Their self-congratulations, however, were a little premature, as the

commandant now informed them that the Turkish Government, having heard

that their own officer prisoners in India were being badly treated, proposed taking reprisals on these two until their powerful relations in England should think fit to remedy matters on both sides.