About 200 yards from the camp stood two tall, very old trees. Inside one of these, which was decayed and hollow, we hid our uniforms (which were now in tatters), so that the English, when they discovered our absence, should be under the impression that we had no civilian clothes and were still in uniform. We made first for the neighbouring wood in order to reach the road which leads from Donington to Trent. We had to make our way through thick undergrowth. It was so dark that we could scarcely see our hands in front of us. Thus it happened that when we were getting out of the bushes a little later we trod on some big animal which rose snorting with rage. It was a cow which we disturbed in its sleep, and which would have angrily thrust its horns into our bodies if we had not promptly jumped back. Our way then led over hilly pasture-land and over half a dozen wooden fences to the main road.
Arrived there, we debated whether we should follow the road or go through the fields. We did not need to deliberate long. A hundred yards from us, where the road went over a small hill, we heard voices. Soldiers of the camp guard, no doubt, who were returning from furlough. No one else would be likely to be there at that time. We at once jumped over a thorn hedge into a large cornfield. In our endeavour to get away from these people as quickly as possible, for their dog had suddenly begun to bark, we rushed blindly forward, each on his own. I stopped behind a bush to listen. The dog was still barking away, but the voices were no longer audible. I looked all round but could see no trace of my companion. I called his name a couple of times. There was no answer. Then I whistled quietly. Again no answer. Suddenly there was a rustling noise near me. I held my breath, not knowing whether it was a friend or an enemy. From time to time the rustling noise went on. Then suddenly I saw a tall figure in front of me. I clenched my fist ready to strike, and then I suddenly heard myself called by name. Thank goodness—it was W. We waited for a while, and as all was again quiet, we turned our faces south. At the double we went downhill, over cornfields, clover-fields, and stubble. Our heavy clothing impeded us a good deal. We were getting horribly thirsty, but could not afford ourselves a drink, for we had only two small medicine bottles full of whisky, which we intended to use only in case of dire necessity, and did not know when we should be able to replenish them.
We had done about a quarter of an hour's run at this pace when the ground suddenly became soft. We must therefore be near the river. We plodded slowly forward. Suddenly W. gave a subdued cry. He was almost up to his hips in a morass. Next moment I was in the same plight.
By great exertion we succeeded in working backwards out of the morass, which had seemed to be drawing our legs down with irresistible force. Two steps more and we should probably never have got out of it. Even when we were clear of it the thought made us shudder.
We felt our way to the right and left. Nothing but reeds and bog. As progress was impossible in this direction we turned sharp to the right. According to our reckoning we ought in this way to find one of the bends of the river. Our only box of matches had got wet in the bog, so that we could make no use of our map. We could only hope our direction was correct. We had changed our course so often that we hardly knew in which direction we were going. We had wandered on for about half an hour when we struck a railway line. A hundred yards ahead of us the line forked. We were in a hole again. Where did these rails lead to? We knew from memory that no railway junction of any sort was shown by our map in this district. According to our calculations the line on the left ought to cross the Trent. So off we started again. We climbed the high hedges which flanked the railway on both sides, and followed the line on the far side.
In the east it was beginning to dawn. We had reckoned on being at our aerodrome by this time, and we had not yet reached the Trent. On the left something bright shimmered through the trees—water! We breathed a sigh of relief. At this point the Trent was hardly thirty yards wide. We were on the other side in no time. And now our spirits rose. The country round here seemed to be quite uninhabited. When it was almost daybreak we came to a fork in the road. At the corner stood a small battered sign-post. Now we could see where we had got to. We were nearly twelve miles out of our way! 'Rotten luck,' we grumbled, and then we hastened our pace to try to make up the lost ground. But the spirit was more willing than the body. Our legs could hardly carry us, which was not to be wondered at after what we had gone through. Our progress became more painful, and visibly slower. Once we allowed ourselves just one tiny drop of whisky and a piece of home-made chocolate in order to revive our failing strength. This brought us another disappointment. In order to make the chocolate particularly nourishing, W. had put into it all the sugar he could get. The consequence was that after eating our 'home-manufacture' we got an all-consuming thirst, which we had no means of satisfying.
We were now getting into a more populous neighbourhood, and we had to be careful in order to escape observation. We had agreed that if we were spoken to my companion would pretend to be deaf and dumb, so that his speech should not betray him. Now and again we met a couple of labourers. They looked at us with some astonishment, mumbled 'Good-morning,' and plodded on. Once we were spoken to by a man of a somewhat better class who wanted to know if we had seen a horse and cart in the direction of so-and-so. I answered in the negative, briefly but politely. Then we went on again; but we both had a feeling that the man was looking round at us. This made us uncomfortable. Ahead of us was a large village. We must avoid it at all costs! That was all very well, but on the right of the road the fields were under water and the fields on the left were in the same condition. So there was nothing for it but to keep straight on.
With our parcels, wrapped up in bright curtain material, under our arms, we marched through the village as if we were going to work. Fortunately, we met very few people, and in five minutes we had passed the last house in the village and were again in open country. In order to reach the railway-line we were making for we now had to bear to the right. We found the spot all right where the railway coming from the north crosses the Trent and bends southwards towards Nottingham. We could not be far from our objective now. The thought of this gave us new strength. We marched along for another two hours carefully scanning the country to the right and left—and found nothing, not the smallest sign which could lead us to believe that there was a flying-ground in the neighbourhood.
Where on earth could the flying-ground be? We concealed ourselves in some bushes and studied the map. We were quite right—we had made no mistake about our position. The aerodrome ought to be somewhere within a radius of two miles of the spot where we were. Once more we took up the search, scouting back to the left and right, then forwards again. We examined the country in this way for four miles round. Not a sign of a flying-ground—not even an aeroplane to be seen.