Carnot's Story
REPORTED BY JAMES NORMAN HALL
A FRENCH barrack-room, in these days of January, 1917, is as full of heroes — in the strict, military sense of the word—as it is of beds. This is particularly true of a barrack-room at the École d’Aviation Militaire, whither many Frenchmen are sent for training as pilotes, as a reward for distinguished service at the front in other branches of army service.
There is Lagnoir, for example, whose cot is next to mine. I have not been able to learn how he won his médaille militaire, but this much information I have secured from his comrades. In August, 1914, he took an important part in one of the few cavalry charges of the war, and in one day of glorious adventure he was wounded, taken prisoner, and recaptured by his squadron. All of this was so long ago, and Lagnoir has had such a variety of warexperiences since, that the story is lost, in so far as his recollection of it is concerned.
Cardonal, next bed but one, was an observer and mitrailleur during 1914, 1915, and 1916, and has to his credit more than a thousand hours of flight over the German lines. His experiences cry aloud to be related under some such title as ‘Tales of a Thousand Hours,’ and Cardonal has n’t an inkling that they are unusual or particularly interesting.
Bordonauve is across the aisle. I had known him for more than two months before he told me of his most thrilling contact with the horrors of modern warfare. He was reminded of it one night when the gloom of the barrackroom after ‘lights-out,’ recalled an hour when he was ‘ very sad to be buried alive’ by a mine-explosion, as he expressed it in his quaint English. His life was saved by a piece of corrugated iron which gave him ‘ breathe time to be rescued.’
But it is impossible to go down the room bed by bed. There are forty Frenchmen to be counted, all of whom have seen from six months to more than two years of service at the front. Less than three years ago they were following commonplace civilian occupations — none, surely, more commonplace than that of Carnot. He is the only man in barracks who has the distinction of having escaped from a German prison-camp. It was not until his third attempt that he finally succeeded in reaching the frontier of Holland. I should never have had the story, had it not been for his eagerness to learn English, and for the frequent urgings of Poulain, who is very proud of his accomplishments as a linguist and wished to help him in writing the narrative. It leaves, perhaps, much to be desired in the matter of explanatory detail, but, for this very reason, abundant room for the excercise of the imagination. What is omitted, or, at most, barely hinted at, is often more important than what is told. As for altering the often quaint and picturesque phrasing, the matter was not to be thought of for a moment. And so the story stands just as it was written during the long evenings of January, 1917, when Carnot held the pen and Poulain the French-English dictionary, the two of them puzzling out the meanings, and working by candle-light long after the rest of us were asleep.
J. N. H.
As soon as I have been transport from the hospital infirmary to F—, and when my shoulder do not hurt me too much, I have only one idea in the head: the escape. Prisoner always dream of the liberty. They are all candidate of this title, less or more distant, to resolve this great problem, arrange everything, and make departure.
The experience proved me that generally they are always the same ones who escape or attempt to do it. It has been from the 25th to 26th of November, 1914, that I try first venture to F—, which is 28 kilometre near Holland. The camp is 5 kilometre from the city of W—. The Rhine is to the ouest of the camp; the river L— which trow itself in the Rhine was at 1 kilometre at north. It should bo necessary to pass the river L— to rejoin Holland, then direct each self by the boussole (instrument to inquire which way is Nord) in the middle of the woods till the frontier.
I had decided with two of my friends, Pitau of Tours and Réjane of Lillers, to try everything which is possible to creep under the three belts of 200 kilometres of wire thread (barbelé, means with sharped little pieces of iron on it) which is surround the camp, and under the electric current (or stream) which flows through this, to 6 or 8 thousand volts. Then it is necessary to pass without wake up our guardian’s attention. Every sixty steps around the camp is one guardian who has the order to kill everyone who will be able to pass this closing, which, at first appearance however, appears like it is impossible to get over.
This is very exactly how the closing are made: some posts are deeply sink in the ground, and exceed from the ground top, over two metres. They follow themselves every two metres of distance, and on them is the barbelé (wire thread) running from one post to the other, and superposed to ten centimetres of height since the level of the soil till the picket top. At three metres of distance, and parallelment to this first closing exist a second one, exactly the same. Between these two is the famous electrocuting current, dispose in this way: some pickets, every six metres, are fix in the ground. They are running between the closings of iron. On the pickets, one iron hand on the top and one down support some chinaware insulators, very strong. On this chinaware an electric cable is adapted. Another cable touch the soil. Between this two cables is fix a simple wire work like the one they use to surround the poultry. If some one is throwing the electric current upon it, the first human being who will touch it is destroy immediately. In the night lamps light very well this place. For this reason how it was necessary to not wake up our guardians!
I had thought that if we were leaving the camp at six o’clock of the evening, we would go the 28 kilometres which separate us from the frontier during the night, and we will arrive in Holland before to be mark out. The rain and storms which had fall down on the camp during the 22 and 23 of November had cause some affaissements (means the soil moved on by going down), and it was by one of these little affaissements that we decide to risk everything for liberty.
It was decide that I will slide the first, then Pitau, then Réjane. Everything was moving like we want it. The guardians were talking together and at distance. Pitau and I escape outside without to touch the electric death wire thread, but how we must be careful! Then a shout resound in the dark. Bullets whistle in the air. Jump out from the lighted part of the camp has been done in a minute. The guardians are excite. They miss us at only a few metres of distance, but we are mark out.
No news at all about Réjane. We think he is dead and so direct ourselves on swiftly by the river. But unlucky at this time (it was not to late) there was Germans all around us. The man pursuit is begin. Shouts ring and we observe many small lights dance around. It was some small pocket lamps which everybody adapt to his vest to find us. But they do not see us. We were hoping arrive till the river by a turning. It was only far of 100 metres when some police dogs trow themselves over us. Pitau had been bite to the leg and to the arm. I try to help him and have been bite very badly to the hand. Our presence is thus discover by the dogs and we are captive immediately.
Some of them try to rifle on us but they were frighted to kill the dogs, and so they do not touch us except a bullet which hurt me a little in the left hand. Then one guardian give the order to bring us living to know how we have been doing to escape from a so strong camp. When he said this the gun blows and the foot blows had been dancing on us, but they stop. They take us to the guard corps. I do not know how they bring us there. I find myself, when I wake up, with foot and hands binded. I have aches all over and my face is fool of blood. My comrade Pitau was like me on the other side of the office, and he is looking dead. On meantime, the lieutenant attach to the camp commandant send orders to take my ties away, and he compliment me on my hard skull. I observe and feel with pleasure that I have nothing broke in me, and I remark too, with great pleasure, that Pitau is not dead, only faint. The major arrive and see with stupefaction that we have not been hurted by the bullets. Unfortunately, it have not been the same thing for some of our comrades in the camp who are wounded by bullets not destinated for them. One have been killed.
Pitau and me, we assurate the commandant that we are only two. After we are questioned, they give us back easily our trousers. The lieutenant say, ‘ You will be shooted to-morrow in front of all the camp, for an example. A German soldier have been wounded and it is because of you.’ They ask us if we want a priest. They inspect our chains to see if they are well closed with keys. They leave a guardian in the office we are, and another before the door. The night pass like this.
Hundred and hundred people are walking pass the little window to try see us. I was like a stupid fellow and all my members are violent. My head was like a boiled stuff and my feet were bloating [or clating] more and more. Pitau was like dead. He was more worn out than me. I find out later that he do not suffer at all. Tie do not know what happen because his senses are stifled.
The same night about eleven o’clock, a great noise. I hear shouts and guns. It is the end! They are going to fusilier [kill] us! No. There are live fellows who try the escape by an underground passage, the first one which has been make here. The initiative of this passage has been give by Signac, a French adjutant. It commence in a cave use for necessary physical purposes, and the end was outside the camp in a building which was not quite finish. It take a very long time to finish this passage and I never thought they would do it. One day the German officers inspect the cave and I am sure they will make a discovery. But as they have all the place surround with the electric death thread, perhaps they do not admit that it is possible for Frenchmen to escape under the mor through them. However, the luck was not for these men who make the attempt after so long labor. They are stopped except one or two who reach the frontier. One or two also have been killed, and the other ones are, like us, put in heavy chains. This night have been terrible one for many of us.
The day who follow, an order come to suspend our execution, for many Boche officer are coming to inspect the underground passage. We prisoner are all chained, but they unlock our hands to eat.
The 27 of November is well remembered day, for then the execution parade take place. But we are delighted, truly, when we find we are not to be shooted. Why this we do not know.
Time pass to the first of December, when we are unchain and go to the central prison at B—, where we are given 14 days strict decrees. It consist to be lock in cell without any light. We have 200 grammes of bread to eat, and to drink, a water’s jar. After this, we go to the great fortress of W— where we have been judge.
Now this is a strange thing. A sentinel was wounded the night we have escape, but he can never say whose of us two have wounded him. And there is cause, for we have not touch him at all. His report is read to us. Here it say that a man appear hastily, trow himself at him and rain down blows with a hammer. First he denounce Pitau as the author of this, but at the confrontation he call me the culprit. His deposition of the 25 of November do not agree with this later one he make before the conseil de guerre, and so we are given a lawyer for our defense. After listening to this sentinel and to us, the instruction judge say that we may be right, for no hammer is found at all, and it appear strange that we could attack a soldier armed with loaded rifle and bayonet, with empty hands. By consequence, the general, who understand French very well, acquitted us as not guilty of this attack on the sentinel, but with this mention: ‘Dangerous. Keep in cell.’ He say too, that they are not savages and if the proves are not sufficient we could be thankful, for we may have been fusillé. We do not think this is unfair judgement.
Pitau and I are in a mystery about this sentinel. I believe he has been so much surprise to see us next of him, leaving the prison surround by the electric wire thread, that he do not know what he has been doing. In his violent emotion he hurt himself on the face, and is shy to say how. So, to not be punish, he invent this story.
In the end of February, Pitau and me rejoin our cells in the central prison at B—. In the interval, come about 200 French and British prisoners who are sent there to be punish for some small mistakes. They work in the day to the Maison Krupp’s branch establishment. The civil guards are replace by soldiers. One day the second lieutenant who look after us is a Pole. He talk to us and open our cells during the day. How he was good to us, and how we are happy!
Next day we try to pass with the ones who are going to work at their factory, but we are seen and they denounce us. Even with this, we find a wonderful trick for means to flee (escape). A Frenchman was working to the chaufferie (warming-place) of the prison. This communicate outside by means of a long tube where the charcoal was arriving. It is close by a grating with lock. The Frenchman take an imprint of this lock, and a key was made by an accomplice who is working by the Maison Krupp. Then another, of our cell, has not been too difficult for us.
One of us was to be lock up in the chaufferie, and he was to call us during the time when the guards are playing cards. We decide to make the new escape. The plan, so easy, was missed because of four fool French boys who make attempt without say anything to us. They wait all day in the chaufferie, and in the night, they pass away through the tube, and try to jump the wall. Their stupidity do not succeed to them. One of them, an Alsacian boy, has been killed when they bring them back to prison, and the others sent to the central prison to V—.
In April we are dispatch to the camp at S—. ‘You will be too far here to try again the escape,’ say to me some of the prisoners. But three of us are not willing to be overcome by the distance, and we decide to escape by the Holland anti England way. We have 300 kilometres to go, and there have never yet been any escape from here.
With the accomplicity of our barraque chief, we buy some clothing and a boussole (instrument to direct each self by looking North) and some preserve food. It is a real story, the way we could leave this immense camp. We are new arrival here, and our faces are not familiar. At five o’clock of the morning, we succeed to join with some religious people who are going to the church which is next the camp. Then we were watching 4 butchers, who go with a guard, every morning, to the slaughter-house at P—. We have plan for all this, and so arrange ourselves with the butchers after we are outside the camp. We have cape, with hood, like theirs, so we could hide our faces and all our provisions of escape.
We walk with the butchers till a little café which is on the road. Here there is a chance to disappear, for the guard must make viséed his passport. We go to the café which is kept by a Hollander fellow, but unfortunately we are discover by a second lieutenant who advance on us to make inquiries. We explain that we were thinking we could have a cup of café before to go to work. He say, ‘You know very well this is not allowed. Come with me to the commandant to explain yourselves.’
We had, all three, civil trousers with red stripe like the Belgians have, a military jacket and a képi, all under our coats. In our musettes [knapsacks] we had our civil clothes. What shall we do with them is the serious problem, for if they are discover by the lieutenant, he will know we are trying to escape. We seem to follow him with docility and make signs together that the first troop of French working prisoners we will see (it was just departure time for the obligatory work), we will let our mu-settes slide to the floor. We are lucky to pass a troop from camp No. 2. We let slide secretly our provisions of escape, and these fellows of the camp are thinking we smuggle them tobacco, like that often happen.
We arrive to the commandant and tell our story. They look all over us to try find something on our bodies, and we bless the French working prisoners we meet on the road who receive our musettes. Then we are bring to the work station where we tell them we belong. The Feldwebel call a guard, and tell him we are to be punish severely. We are all three conduct by this guard and we explain to him that we only try to buy the cup of café, and he must not say anything to the work chief like the Feldwebel tell him to do. I give him three bank-notes of five marks and he is very very pleased, and he tell us that he is going to said we are three prisoners who work only in the morning, as this is a good excuse, for this work was done by the prisoners of camp No. 3, who are unloading and bringing the grain-sacks in an old theatre.
Our next idea is, go back with the work people at noon, stop before we will arrive at camp No. 3, stay in camp No. 2, take back our musettes which should come when the prisoners we meet in the morning will return, then leave camp No. 2, and mixt ourself in the theatre equip. Everything succeed, but now we are only two. Boudoin say he is ill. All the emotions of the morning take his strength away and we must not wait for him. He is giving us his food, and know we are desperate and will try everything to escape.
When we arrive to the old theatre we hide ourselve in an old closet. Boudoin help us, and come to us to say that everything goes right. No one knows we are there. We decide, Lefèvre and I, to wait for the night. Eight o’clock strike, then nine, and we make the beginning. On the station way, we see the docks which are lighted by arc lamps, and a guard walking slowly back and forth. We creep through the garden which enclose the theatre, and step on a board which crack with a loud sound. Immediately dogs barked terribly. How we despise these dogs! We did not know that there were some detached at night in the theatre, for we did not see them in the day. It was impossible to go away. Lefèvre wish to take the chance, but I, who have attempt the escape before and have been found by dogs, refuse. We discuss this matter and nearly fight together, but my opinion prevail at last. It was to wait for twenty-four hours in this old closet, then steal out, but with no sound at all, and walk between the night and day as we have proposed. If we are signalated at the camp [missed] everyone will think we must be far by this time, and no one will try to find us at the town of S—. If we are not mark out, it will be only a few hours to wait, and of endurance.
Next evening at seven o’clock, we risked what we said. Lefèvre acts as a hunchback and me as a lame old fellow. We were looking like two poor workmen, very miserable and tired. In this way we pass behind the theatre, take the little lane which leads on the road, and going very slowly we pass through the whole town of S—. We pass Boche soldiers, singing and a little bit gay, because they were going to the front. (It is to remember that this is at the beginning of 1915.) We see the music halls full of lights and the cafés, and though we are very thirsty, for nothing in the world would we ask for a drink. We hear pianos going and music, but at last the sounds die away, and we are in the country. Our joy is a big one to have come through the entire city and to have not been stopped.
The night was clear with stars. We walked 35 kilometres, and hide ourselves, before daylight, in the fields about 5 kilometres from B—. In this way we pass the week, walking at night and hiding ourselves in the day in the fir wood which are numerous till the city R—. It must be peculiar to see us, sliding as shadows, along the shores of the roads, looking sometimes our boussole to direct ourself and consultating our carte géographique at the doubtful places. Everything being right till R— , we had encamp the last day at 3 kilometres from the river, and decide to cross the city at nine o’clock of the evening. In this way it would be easy to pass the bridges and take the large road to S—. All goes well. We are out of the city, when at the railway there was a train arriving and we have to wait before to cross. Three young boys look at us very ostensibly. They pass next of us and say, ‘Gut abend.’ We answer the same thing, but they are not satisfied and go to talk with a soldier who was taking a walk with a young woman. With him they come back to us by running. He look at us with curiosity and ask us who we are. We say that we are working Holland men. We let him open our capes and show him our boots, trousers and vests. While he is talking to the young boys who are not satisfied of our answers, we leave so quickly it is possible. The city is behind. Fortunately we see a little street not lighted at all. We run very very far. We can say that we have been very lucky.
We decide to not walk any more on the road. The hardest part of our journey is done. It is only 20 kilometres till the frontier when we find a little wood where it seems propitious to wait see what is going to happen. We are very tired but do not notice it, for we think, to-morrow, to-morrow, the Holland!
We start again at 2½ hours of the night, and decide to direct ourselves with the boussole only. The night is very dark. We cannot see a tree to one metre of distance. It is very difficult to go across the fields. We fall down in a pool, but go on through it. Impossible. It does not have an end. We remember it on the carte. It is shallow and so we wade in it. We are just looking our boussole with a pocket lamp when we hearded in the night, ‘Wer da?’ (Who is there?) We don’t answer it and try to go away in the other direction to the voice. It is useless. They are customs officers, and we hear very plainly the dogs barking. Always dogs! We have fall in an ambuscade during the dark night. We are in mud till the knees and tfie dogs rejoin us very soon. Resist at this moment will be useless, so we decide to be sly, like with the soldier night before. This has been best, for when we are bringed to the guards we have not been hurted at all.
The story about being Holland men could be a possible one, if one of us was able to speak the Holland language. But the guards remark that it is peculiar two Hollander working man cannot speak the language of the country they come from. They accept the hypothesis that we are very particularly fraud men, and we could easily be the two Russian officers who have made escape from the fortress prison at O—.
‘Have you some papers?’ ask to us a soldier who was looking to be a kind of chief. It was the one who was speaking Holland.
We answered that we don’t have some papers and that was the reason we try to join Holland without passing the guardhouse, because we lost them. They decide to keep us till the morning, and lead us till a little room behind where are the guns. Imagine what our emotions are, being so near to the end of our weary walking, and to be stopped!
While we were seeming to sleep on the floor we remark that the dogs have been taken away to the embuscade post. Two men were talking about us, and two more were playing cards and smoking a long pipe. They were in the next room with the communication door half open to watch us. We decide when they think we are sleeping, to jump, both of us, over the fellow who were nearest the door, push him very hardly on the table which will also push over his partner who is opposite him, and to escape so quick it will be possible. It was about one o’clock of the morning. At half-past one we must be out. We succeed but the fate is not with us. Again we hear, ‘ Wer da ? ’ We are taken and the order is given to chain up our hands and conduct us to S— prison. One hour later we are there. We are feeling stupid, without courage. They dechain us in a room with only one window four metres from the soil. I am crying like a child and Lefèvre is sick. ‘You see you bungle this!’ he shout to me; and nearly we are going to fight again. We are both two miserables.
Two o’clock striking over us to the belfry, made us remember the reality of things. We undress ourself completely, hiding everything we have in the pocket. Nothing prove we are militaires, not a letter, not a paper, not a mark, nothing, nothing at all, not a label to our shoes, not a tailor man or hatter’s address. We wash ourselves with the jar’s water and decide to say always, always that we are Holland men, horned and educated in Belgium, who have worked in France and in Birmingham, England, and reduced to the distress (misery) we went to engage ourselves in Germania because we could not find any work in Holland since the war.
Next morning they conduct us to the little fortress at B—. We see the frontier of Holland. How it is hard for us to be so near, at the very approach of our freedom, and to be captured! The Boches question us. Nothing doing! We act like very stupid fellows, and are glad in ourselves to see that they are doing everything with no result. It is for our obstination, to not answered to them, that we could succeed an escape six months after this, for we were bring to the office of the commissaire where on the wall we see the staff map. We remark secretly all the place where there is a customs or a guard along the frontier. I think it will be possible for me all my life to remember these places.
For six days they keep us here and then decide to make us visit all the camp where French prisoners have attempt the escape. At S— we have been formally recognize, and we pass before the war council at same time with two others escape men (who later escape definately with Lef—vre and me). Now we are dress in a peculiar custom. They cut us half of the moustache on one side, and half of the hairs on our head on the other side. We were like for a carnival, one blue sleeve and the other one red, different color strokes (lines) in the breadth of our trousers, and one large yellow stroke of ten centimetres in the middle of the back. We had to answered six roll-calls every day, and we were very severely punish if one of us was late for a minute. We were all together and it was interdict for any reason for us to leave the camp with the other prisoner work people.
It was very difficult to succeed an escape from this camp. On the contrary to the former one, it was divided into different sections and each section surround by a strong electric current. The whole camp, with all of these sections, was surround with the camp of the Roche soldiers including their canteens, warehouses, etc. An immense wire thread net close up completely this immense place. The doors are kept by sentinels who are turning all the time around this mighty net. However, we did succeed in this way: we have excavate a long underground tunnel (passage) going from the cabinet, sliding under the barbelé wire thread, and under the electric current, under the other barbelé wire thread, under the sentinel’s passage, and end in an artillery park.
On the night of the 25 and 26 of September, 1915, we decide it is now or not at all for us. We were four of us, Lefèvre, myself, and two others. One after one we creep through the tunnel and emerge at the artillery park. So far so good. Not a sound, not a shot, not a dog bark. This seem almost like Heaven to Lefèvre and me, who know what are the German camp dogs. We proceed in diagonal across the artillery park till we reach closing No. 2 and here we feverishly dig a hole under the lozenge wire net. We creep through swiftly and are then on the road to S— and to the liberty!
With us we had our musettes full of food — chocolate, bread and preserved things. Besides this, we had, each one, a boussole and a pocket lamp. We decide to separate and to walk at 200 metres in intervals in the dangerous parts, and to go always under the woods, in the middle of the fields, but never on the roads. The first night, in spite of the hard kind of travel we go more than 20 kilometres. The second night we had to cross very important shod roads of B— , in shunning the prisoners’ camps. We have to be very cautious, for we know very well, in what bad temper the Boches are, and that they will do the impossible to rejoin us. They have propose a much bigger premium than they generally give, to the soldier who will detect us making the escape, for they are sure that we will not rest in prisoner camp if we can elude it. We heard fire strokes that same night, and were follow; but we were shy, and for once the moon has been our accomplice, by going under the clouds at the right times.
Without anything more very extraordinary, except that we have been follow by some guards who thought we were marauding, we have been walking nearly to the city of R—, where we arrive in 10 days, walking the nights, hiding the days, eating very little, and benefiting of everything we find, carrots, potatoes, beet-roots, cabbages. With our daggers [knives] we kill two dogs, one in a farm near L—, and one in a forest which was belonging probably to a customs officer. We were beginning to have a great habit of this kind of sport. It is peculiar how we were able to distinguish from very far all kind of different sounds at night, and the nature of every noise we hear. The ear becomes very exact when one is walking for his life. We cross fields, woods, lanes, rivers, and at last reach the Ems, which we cross by swimming, and not as before, on the bridges. It taked us four days to go the last 30 kilometres from R— to the frontier, for we are very cautious, like salvages after our great difficulties. At last, on the 9 of October, 1915, at the dawn, we cross the Dunker without undress ourself and we are in Holland.
Our joy, our madness, were indescribable. In spite of the opposite temper between Lefèvre and me, we kiss each other like we were brothers. For the first time in all of our travels together, we agree completely to the same idea, and we decide to walk on the road. The first person we see in Holland was very young woman with rosy cheeks. We shaked hands with her with the greatest pleasure, and we asked some bread, and some milk and butter which were things we had not seen for a year. This excellent woman bringed us to her father, and he did not accept that we pay for what we eat and drink. Our clothes, which were very worn and wet, we dried out. Then we left this nice people and took the road in the direction of Ooldenzaahl. It was so nice to walk in the daytime and on a real road.
We have not been very far when a man on a bicycle, without uniform, showed to us his police card, and try to explain that we must return with him for we have not any papers. We understood that it was to the office to arrange our situation. It is just by the frontier. There we look across the bridge and see the Boches! They regard us in a very strange way, like they hungry for us. It was a great privilege and joy to be on this side of the bridge and not on the other. We feel like to sing in our happiness. Fifty metres away from us were the Boches and the servitude. We bless this little distance which separate us.
At the office they bringed us tobacco and chocolate and clothes and linen and water to wash ourself. Everybody compliment us. Orders came from Ooldenzaahl to conduct us till that city. Something I remarked was that in the customs house we thought we were very strong, but when we wanted to walk again — impossible. Our nervous tension was gone and we were very weak. We had to have a car to go the nine kilometres to Ooldenzaahl. It was a delightful journey. Everybody was cheering us. They knew that we was two prisoners who escape away after a long captivity and two attempts escape. We were something very curious for the people, and we could remark that in this part of Holland they don’t like the Boche.
From Ooldenzaahl, where we have a little rest, we are conduct till the French consulate where they receive us very gently. We had the order to go till the Holland Chief of Staff, where they explain that we may stay in Holland if we want to, and quite free, like civils, or we may join France. We request that we wish to go back to our native land to make our duty. The Holland man, a colonel I think, complimented us, and we were as free as the air. At the English consulate they give us a passport to embark on the Orange Nassau ship. We embark, but we had not yet seen the last of the Boches. They even pursue us in the sea, for we sight a German submarine which immerse almost immediately. But fortunately we are not sink.
So end our adventures. We arrive in France safely. Now my comrades are again on the front, and I am in the aviation. We promise ourselves that whatever happen we will never again be in a German prison.