The next thing was to get the door of the carriage in the rear compartment open. Before leaving our end of the train, we decided that, as a signal to go, I should drop my handkerchief out of the window on the left-hand side of the train, since an attempt must, if possible, take place from the right side—firstly, because the right side contained the corridor passage, and, secondly, the sentry could not possibly fire on us from a moving train on the right side, unless they were left-hand shots, which risk we had to take, though the chances were very much in our favour. Again I paid a visit to our friends in the rear compartments, and informed them that, as soon as dusk set in, we would make the attempt—sooner, if the train slackened speed sufficient to give us the least feasible opportunity.
We were just then passing the thickly wooded country near Bonn, and the views were quite delightful. The light began to fail fast, and my nerves were strained to the highest tension. Getting into communication with the sentry in the next carriage, I began enlarging on the beauties of the view, asking this or that question, at which he was highly delighted. In fact, we got on so well that before many minutes were up I had the window down, and was leaning half out on my right side. Whilst we were unanimously praising a special little bit, my right hand crept down almost to the full length of my arm outside the window, and lifted the outside latch, after which I lost interest in the view, and the sentry returned to his compartment, whilst I went to the rear one. The train up to this time had been running at a speed of about fifty miles an hour, which gave us no chance, considering we had to jump on to metal rails and sleepers filled in with broken granite.
At about seven o’clock we ran into a small station, and thought our chance would come as we drew out before the train could gather speed; but just as we drew out, on reaching a level crossing, we found a company of Boche soldiers drawn up on both sides of the line, and the chance was left behind. At this moment we discovered a strange Boche had entered the compartment. He turned out to be a railway official come to turn on the light. He remained with us for a few minutes only. To us it seemed an eternity. Would he never go! At last he went further up the train, and we began to draw into another small town; but the train stopped in front of another level crossing, with a crowd of Boche civilians on both sides.
After about a minute the train moved off again and gathered speed with great rapidity. We could see the lights of a big town about a mile in front of us. This might be our destination, but we did not know. I informed my confederates that in my opinion it was now or never. The impossibility of jumping at that moment seemed to be deeply impressed on everybody but myself. However, I dropped the handkerchief, and, crossing to the other side, turned the handle and jumped out. Picking myself up, I sprinted in the opposite direction to that in which the train was moving, keeping to the centre of the track. It was impossible to leave the line here, since both sides were lined with houses; so I rushed on, hoping for a gap in the houses towards the open country. Passing the level crossing, I noticed the barriers beginning to rise and the crowd of civilians preparing to pass over. I heard a cry behind me and the patter of running feet, and thought a crowd was following, at which I redoubled my efforts, but soon realised that my long imprisonment had told upon me, and that I could not go much farther.
Then it dawned on me that I could run better without my trench-coat. Visions arose of the long wet trek in front of me, and the possibilities of rheumatic fever without it; but my breath was going fast, so there was no alternative. Accordingly, as I ran I threw the precious coat from me. By this time I was very nearly done, and the weight of the ruck-sack containing my food for the journey made my shoulders ache, so that I threw that off also. Another fifty yards and the end of the town was in sight, but before this I espied a gap in the houses, for which I made. This only led to a cul-de-sac. The only alternative was to cross a fence into a garden, and then another and another, through a wire fence and into a kitchen garden. In a few minutes I was joined by three others, whom, to my joy, I discovered to be three of my companions of the rear compartment. Here we rested, and I got out my concealed compass, in order to take down bearings. This done, in about a quarter of an hour we prepared to make a start.
We first ran into a large house and garden surrounded by barbed wire, into which we pushed our way, only to find ourselves temporarily trapped, as we could find no way of exit on to the road at the other side, so that we had to retreat by the way we had come and make a detour round the house, to find ourselves confronted by a main road, with occasional pedestrians passing along it. By now the moon had begun to rise, which enabled us to see a good distance ahead, but at the same time increased the danger of our being observed. Fortunately, she providentially went behind thick fleecy clouds. Thinking the road in front of us too dangerous an obstacle to cross at this point, we made a detour of about half a mile, and again took compass bearings, which bearings we took periodically, when it suddenly struck me we were travelling directly towards the moon, and therefore almost south, at least south-west, which was not our object at all. Again we took a bearing with the compass, which seemed to prove me wrong; but I obstinately refused to believe myself wrong, and this led to trouble between myself and the senior officers of our expedition.
To take a bearing properly and correctly was quite a difficult feat. It consisted of lying on the ground covered by somebody else’s coat, in order to light a match in safety without attracting attention, otherwise we found it impossible to set the compass sufficiently accurately. On removing the glass from the compass, it was discovered that the agate bearing was cracked, which caused the compass to swing and stick. This must have happened in my jump from the train. I did not at first convey this information to my comrades, thinking that it might cause too great consternation; for it must be remembered that they had all been strangers to me a few hours before, and I was not therefore sure of the type and calibre of the men I had to deal with.
For a few hundred yards we carried on, when, to the disgust of the others, I again decided to take a bearing, over which I spent a great deal of time, carefully placing the compass-point towards the edge of the agate bearing, and allowing it to swing gently to a stop. Although the needle was not balanced in the centre, it was sufficiently so to enable it to swing freely; then, taking a careful line of the exact direction of west, in conjunction with the rising moon, the Pole Star and Cassiopeia, I set a direct course, from which, with the exception of slight deflections for the purpose of avoiding dangerous obstacles encountered on our route, we never swerved until after we crossed the Dutch frontier. It was hard work to make time by forced marching, since we had to watch the ground for pitfalls for the feet and the heavens for direction.
Shortly after taking the last bearing we crossed another electric railway line and a station brilliantly lit up, and here it seemed to our excited imagination that the people inside the brilliantly lit train-cars drawn up at one of the stations were interested or excited about something. All the occupants had their noses glued to the glass, looking at something or other, whilst the powerful head-lamps were sweeping the country around, often lighting up our prostrate forms as if it were day. Innumerable cars seemed to come and go, and we dared not move under such conditions. Soon, however, to our intense relief, the trains slacked off, and we were able to make a good steady advance. It began to freeze very hard, the clouds vanished, and the moon became intensely brilliant, which of course helped us immeasurably; but we could not see it then, as our nerves were too much on edge. Personally I felt as if I were naked and the whole world was watching with bated breath. The heavy frost also helped us, since we were sticking entirely to the open country, mostly over ploughed fields, and instead of the usual slow advance one makes over plough we walked on it as on pavement, so that we made excellent progress. At the same time caution guided our every movement. We never crossed a road without scouting it beforehand, or came upon a farm or even a shed without making a wide detour round it. What we feared more than anything else was that a dog might start barking, and cause its owner to come out to see the reason.
When I look back at that first trek, I come to the conclusion that fortune favoured us for once. I don’t think we ever made a false step, which was luck indeed. We walked hard till about 3 a.m., and then found ourselves approaching a main road, with what appeared to be two big villages situated not more than half a mile apart. A scout went forward to investigate, but came back scared and excited. Moving lights appeared first here and there; sometimes red flashes came and went. We immediately decided that we had been surrounded, only to find on closer investigation that the lights belonged to a single-track railway, which ran in a semicircle around us. On crossing the railroad and railtrack beyond, we began to realise for the first time that dawn was rapidly approaching. Lights began to spring up in the large village to our left, so that we were immediately forced to look for a place where we could safely hide during the coming daytime. This proved to be no easy job, and before we were finally settled it was very nearly broad daylight.