Soon after dawn we got into an excellent hiding-place without further adventures. We were very exhausted, and were beginning to feel the lack of food. The cross-country marches of the last two nights had been a heavy tax on our strength. We were not yet on our maps, and the most moderate estimate of the distance from the Swiss frontier, when considered in relation to our food supply, made it necessary to cut down our ration very considerably from this time onwards. We were much worried during that day by shooting which went on in the wood round us. It is the German habit to go out shooting for the pot on Sundays, and many escaping prisoners had been recaught in this way. We had to lie consequently most of the day with our boots on, prepared to bolt at any moment. However, our hiding-place was good, and though men and carts passed close to us, I don't think we ran much risk of being found.
Fifth Night.—The first village we came to lay across a stream in the middle of a broad and marshy valley. It was about 11 o'clock, and as we approached we heard sounds of music, singing, and laughter coming from the village. It was Sunday night, and I suppose there was a dance on or something of the sort—it was too much for us at any rate, and as there seemed no way round owing to the river, we sat down in a clump of trees outside the village and waited. About 11.30 the sounds died down and just before 12 o'clock we got through the village without mishap, though we passed two or three people. We were making excellent progress along a good straight road which ran, for a wonder, in the right direction, when suddenly we heard a whistle from the woods on our left and ahead of us—the whistle was answered from our rear. We are fairly caught this time, we thought, but we walked steadily on. We had big sticks and the woods were thick at the sides of the road. There were more whistles from different sides, and then just as we were passing the spot where we had heard the first whistle a line of men came out of the woods in Indian file and made straight for us. There were ten or twelve of them trotting in a crouching attitude. They passed a yard or two behind us, crossed the road, and disappeared into a corn field on the other side. "Boy scouts, begorra," said Buckley. "I wish we were well out of this," I said. "I hope to heaven the little devils won't make it part of the night operations to arrest every one coming down that road. If we have to knock out some of them, the villagers would murder us; and we should never shake them off, once they had an inkling of what we were; I would rather tackle men any day." Buckley agreed heartily, and we walked on fast. Several times afterwards those cursed whistles sounded, but we gradually left them behind.
At last we hit a railway, running east and west, of course. Our road here took a right-angle turn and ran beside the railway, and we were compelled to take a much worse road leading uphill among trees. The road gradually got worse. We soon recognized the symptoms. How often in the last few days had we followed roads which degenerated by slow degrees and ended by entangling us in hop-poles and private gardens in a forest! A quarter of an hour later this one proved itself to be no exception to the rule. Buckley was all for pushing on by compass through the forest. I absolutely refused, and after some argument we decided to retrace our steps to the railway and follow it westwards. This we did, and after walking several miles along the railway we took a good road which ran north and south, cutting the railway at right angles. After walking for an hour or more along this road we came to a milestone which, as usual, we inspected carefully. On it were the words: Gunzenhausen, 8 Kilometres. We could have shouted for joy. Gunzenhausen was marked on the northern edge of my map. We knew where we were.
It is impossible to describe what a difference this knowledge made to us. For the last three days we had been oppressed by the feeling that we were lost, that we were walking aimlessly, that we were continually on the wrong road and using up our food and strength in making detours. For the future we would know that every step we took would be one step nearer the frontier, and during the day we could lie and plan out our route for the following night—we could make fairly accurate calculations with regard to food—in fact, the whole problem of distance and food supplies was now clear and simple, and we had some chocolate to celebrate the occasion. At the next village we saw by a sign-post that the road to Gunzenhausen turned almost due west. I wished to go straight on southwards down a decent road, but Buckley wished to go for Gunzenhausen, the only name which we knew as yet. After a rather heated argument I gave way. Our tempers were rather irritable, but we were never angry with each other for more than five minutes, and as soon as we had recovered our tempers we used to apologize. We almost walked into a sentry in Gunzenhausen before we knew we were in the town. However, we retreated, and making a short detour lay up in a small oak wood about 3 miles south of the town, having accomplished that night a very good march. The place where we were hiding was by no means an ideal spot, as the undergrowth was not very thick. It was rather an anxious day, as we again heard shooting in the woods in the neighborhood, but no one disturbed us. After a careful study of the map we found that, by cutting across in a southwest direction about five miles of flat, low-lying country, we would hit a railway which went due south to Donnauwörth, about 60 miles away.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] I have learnt since from Major Gaskell that nearly a minute elapsed before the sentry realized that we had departed. After the discovery there was a good deal of ill-feeling, which was accentuated by two Russians escaping in much the same manner an hour later, but they were recaptured.