Medlicott and Oliphant, as the most experienced prison-breakers, came to the conclusion that it was absolutely necessary to have more accurate knowledge of the numbers, positions, and movements of the sentries on the ramparts and round the moat at night than we already possessed. For this purpose it was decided that one of us must spend a night out. It was no job to be undertaken lightly. It meant a fifteen-hours' wait on a freezing night. For the first three and the last three hours of this time it would be almost impossible to move a muscle without discovery. And discovery meant a very excellent chance of being stuck with a bayonet. Besides this, there were two Appells to be "faked"—the Appell just before sunset and the early morning one. There was no Appell at 9 o'clock in those days. Our rooms were separated from one another by 3-foot thick walls, but in these walls were archways leading from one room to the other. These archways were blocked up by boarding, and formed recesses in each room which were usually employed as hanging-cupboards for clothes, coats, etc. Under cover of these we cut a couple of planks out of the wooden barrier and made a hole so a man could slip through quickly from one room to the other. These planks could be put back quickly, and it would have needed a pretty close examination to have discovered where the board was cut, once pictures had been pasted over the cracks and coats had been hung up in front. There was some difficulty at first in obtaining the necessary tools for the work. The first plank we cut through with a heated table-knife, but for the second one we managed to steal a saw from the German carpenter who was doing some work in one of the rooms, and return it before he missed it. It must not be forgotten that there was absolutely no privacy in the fort, and that a sentry passed the window and probably stared into the room every minute or two. A special watch had to be kept for him, and you had to be prepared at any moment to look as if you were doing something quite innocent. Room 43 was inhabited by Frenchmen, but as usual in Fort 9 they were quite willing to help us. We practiced the trick many times till every one was perfect in his part. The rehearsals were most amusing. One of us pretended to be Abel doing Appell. First he tapped at the door of 43 and counted the men in the room, shut the door and walked about 7 paces to the next door, tapped and entered. Between the time Abel shut one door till the time he opened the next, six to eight seconds elapsed. During those seconds it was necessary for the Frenchman to slip through the hole, put on a British warm (we lived in coats in the cold weather), and pretend to be Oliphant. Abel knew every man by sight in every room; but, as long as he saw the requisite number of officers in each room, he did not often bother to examine their faces. After we had done it successfully, several other rooms adopted the method, and the "faking" was done a very large number of times before the Germans discovered it four months later.
The early morning Appell was really easier. For several mornings the fellow in the bed nearest the hole made a habit of covering his face with the bed-clothes. Abel soon got used to seeing him like that, and, if he saw him breathing or moving, did not bother to pull the clothes off his face. The Frenchman had simply to run from his bed, bolt through the hole and into the bed in our room, cover up his face, and go through the motions of breathing and moving his legs sufficiently but without overdoing it. All this had been practiced carefully beforehand. We had, of course, enormous fun over these preparations, stealing the saw and cutting the planks, pretending to be Abel doing Appell, and all the time dodging the sentry at the window. This sort of amusement may seem childish, but it was the only thing which made life tolerable at Fort 9.
We cast lots as to which one of us was to sleep out. It fell to Oliphant. I own I breathed a sigh of relief, as I did not relish the job. The next thing to do was to hide him outside on the ramparts. The place was selected with great care, and was behind one of the traverses up on the ramparts on the south side, for our idea was for some or all of us to hide up there and swim the moat on the south side one dark night. Medlicott and Milne dug a grave for him, whilst Fairweather and I kept watch. Just before the Appell bell went we buried him and covered him with sods and grass. Of course he was very warmly clad, but he had a pretty beastly night in front of him, as it was freezing at the time. It was about 4.30 p.m. when he was covered up, and he would not get back to our room and comparative warmth till 8.15 next morning, when the doors were opened. The evening Appell went off splendidly, but the night was brighter than we had hoped, and we were rather anxious about him.
There was some anxiety also about the morning Appell, as we could not be quite certain which way Abel would take the Appell, up or down the passage: that is to say, which room, 42 or 43, would he come to first? It made all the difference to our arrangements. By careful listening we found out which way he was coming, and when he poked our substitute, who groaned and moved in the oft-rehearsed manner, we nearly killed ourselves with suppressed laughter.
About an hour afterwards, just as we were going out to cover his retreat, Oliphant suddenly walked in, very cold and hungry but otherwise cheerful. He had had quite a successful night, and had gained pretty well all the information we wished for. The bright moon had prevented him from crawling about very much, but he had seen enough for us to realize that it would be a pretty difficult job to get through the sentries and swim the moat even on a dark night.
Although we temporarily abandoned this scheme, owing in the first place to the difficulties which we only realized after Oliphant's expedition, and secondly because "faking" Appell was a very chancy business for more than two people, we nevertheless made the most careful preparations to escape at the first possible opportunity. Several schemes were broached. One of these schemes I always considered a good one. In the low and flat country in which the fort was situated very thick fogs used to come down quite suddenly. As soon as it became foggy all the prisoners had to come into the fort and the doors of the courtyards were shut. Our idea was either to wait outside carefully hidden when the order was given to come in, or to have some method of getting into the courtyard in foggy weather; in either case we thought it would not have been a difficult business to cross the narrow moat on the north side during a fog in the day time. At night time there were sentries in the courtyards and on the ramparts, as well as three in front of our windows. In the day time there were none in the courtyards or on the ramparts, and only one in front of our windows. The difficulty was to get into the courtyards after we had been locked up. I climbed up a ventilator several times to see if it were not possible to cut our way out there, but the more one went into the details the more difficult it seemed.
In the meantime we went on with our preparations: map-copying (which was Fairweather's department), rations and equipment (of which Medlicott and Oliphant were in charge), intelligence department as to movements of sentries and habits of Huns (which was my job). Boots, socks, grease, home-made rücksacks, concentrated food and the correct amount of meat and biscuits for a ten days' march, maps, compasses, the route to follow, and numerous other details were carefully prepared, and the material hidden. We thought that it was unlikely that a larger party than four would be able to go, and Medlicott, Oliphant, Fairweather, and myself were selected to be the first party to try if anything turned up.
The next bit of excitement was the escape of Kicq and party. This happened when we had been in the fort about a month. Early on Kicq had left Room 45 and gone into a French room, 41. One afternoon he asked me if I would help him to escape, which I agreed to do. His idea was to dress up as a German N.C.O., and with six Frenchmen and a Belgian named Callens to bluff themselves out of the main gate at about 6.30 in the evening. The scheme seemed to me almost impossible—but Kicq was enthusiastic about it, and persuaded me that it would probably come off, if only because it was so improbable that any one would attempt such a thing. There were three sentries and three gates and a guardhouse to pass, and the real danger was that, if they passed the first sentry and gate and were stopped in front of the second, they would be caught in the outer courtyard at the tender mercy of two angry sentries, and in my opinion would stand an excellent chance of being stuck with a bayonet. However, Kicq realized that as well as I did; and, as it is for every man to judge the risks he cares to take, I promised to do my part, which was quite simple.
About 6 p.m. I went into Room 41, and there they were all dressing up and painting their faces, etc., as if for private theatricals. Kicq was excellent as a German Unteroffizier. He had made a very passable pork-pie cap, of which the badge in front is very easy to imitate by painted paper. He had a dark overcoat on to which bright buttons, which would pass in the dark as German buttons, had been sewn, and he had a worn-out pair of German boots which had been given to one of the orderlies by a German. Some of the others had on the typical red trousers—but any sort of nondescript costume will do for a French orderly. They were timed to go as soon after 6.30 p.m. as the road was clear, and it was my job to give the signal. I was pleased to be able to report that I had never seen the sentry, who was on duty at the main gate, before, and it was most unlikely that he knew any of their faces. I stood about opposite the packet office, and Abel came along the passage and went in. Looking through the keyhole I saw that he was busy in there near the door and might come out at any moment. I reported this, and the whole party came and stood in the dark turning of the passage by the bathroom, from where they could watch me peering through the packet office keyhole. At last I saw Abel sit down at his table and begin writing, so I gave the signal. Immediately a whole troop of French orderlies, carrying mattresses, blankets, and bedding on their heads, came clattering down the passage, laughing and talking to one another in French. A German N.C.O. was among them, and as he went along he collided with a German-speaking Russian, a great friend of ours known as Charley, who naturally cursed his eyes out in German. Kicq took no notice, but going just ahead of his orderlies he cursed the sentry at the main gate for not opening the door more quickly for them, and stood aside counting them as they went out. One fellow came running down the passage a bit after the others—Kicq waited for him and then went out after them, and the door closed.
I waited most anxiously for any noise which would show that things had gone wrong. But after ten minutes it seemed certain that they had got clear away.