After looking round cautiously we crossed this, and crawled on—endlessly, it seemed.
Buckley relieved me, and took the lead for a bit. Then we changed places again, and the next time I looked up the poplars really did seem a bit nearer.
Then Buckley whispered to me, "Hurry up, the moon's rising." I looked back towards the east, and saw the edge of the moon peering over the hills. We were still about 100 yards from the stream. We will get across now, even if we have to fight for it, I thought, and crawled on at top speed. Suddenly I felt a hand on my heel, and stopped and looked back. Buckley pointed ahead, and there, about 15 yards off, was a sentry walking along a footpath on the bank of the stream. He appeared to have no rifle, and had probably just been relieved from his post. He passed without seeing us. One last spurt and we were in the stream (it was only a few feet broad), and up the other bank. "Crawl," said Buckley. "Run," said I, and we ran. After 100 yards we stopped exhausted. "I believe we've done it, old man," I said. "Come on," said Buckley, "we're not there yet." For ten minutes we walked at top speed in a semicircle, and at length hit a road which I knew must lead to Barzheim. On it, there was a big board on a post. On examination this proved to be a boundary post, and we stepped into Switzerland, feeling a happiness and a triumph such, I firmly believe, as few men even in this war have felt, though they may have deserved the feeling many times more.
We crossed into Switzerland at about 12.30 a.m. on the morning of June 9th, 1917.
CHAPTER XIX
FREEDOM
The moon had risen by now, and a walk of two or three hundred yards brought us into the village, which we entered without seeing any one. It was quite a small place, and though nearly 1 o'clock there were several houses in which lights were showing. "I suppose we really are in Switzerland," said Buckley. I felt certain about it, and we determined to knock up one of the houses in which we saw lights burning, as food we must and would have without delay. We were standing in a small cobbled square, and just as we were selecting the most likely looking house we caught sight of two men who were standing in a dark spot about 30 yards away. I called out to them in German, "Is this Barzheim?" "Jawohl" was the answer. "Are we in Switzerland?" Again, "Jawohl." "Well, we are escaping prisoners-of-war from Germany and we are very hungry." The two fellows, whom we saw to be boys of sixteen or seventeen, came up. We were very much on our guard and ready for trouble, for we believed then, though I do not know with what justice, that the Germans have agents on the Swiss side of the border who misdirect escaped prisoners so that they walk back into Germany, or even forcibly deliver them to the German sentries. "Escaped prisoners, are you?" said one of the young men. "Yes," I said, "Englishmen." They showed some interest. "We are English officers, and we want food very badly." "Come on," they said, and led us to a house at the corner of the square. Then we sat on a wooden bench, and they lit a candle and had a look at us.
We repeated our desire for food, and they cross-questioned us and tried us with a word or two of English. They were much interested in the fact that we were English officers, as no Englishmen had crossed before at that place.