Anton Gill - The Great Escape

The Great Escape

Anton Gill

Anton Gill, 2002

Anton Gill has asserted his rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.

First published in 2002 by Review.

This edition published in 2015 by Endeavour Press Ltd.

To all who fight for freedom and against oppression

Table of Contents

Authors Note

Every effort has been made to verify facts but memories of events which took place sixty years ago can be treacherous. Some sources state that Roger Bushell flew Spitfires, others say that he flew Hurricanes, for example; one source gives it that his right eye was deformed; another that it was his left. It is very hard to tell from photographs which is correct.

All incontrovertible errors, however, must be laid at my door.

Foreword

WHY DID PEOPLE TRY TO ESCAPE ONCE TAKEN prisoner? Was it not rather a relief to be removed from the fighting, to sit out the conflict in relative safety? These are not simple questions, and answers depend on a variety of elements. In any war, the conditions of confinement are a factor governing any decision to get away. During the Second World War, the Japanese generally treated their prisoners-of-war with great cruelty, and means of escape were minimal. Camps in the east were surrounded by inhospitable jungle, and in any case the distance between them and any Allied lines, let alone home itself, meant that escape could rarely be taken into serious consideration; quite apart from the punishments meted out to those recaptured.

In Europe the distances between prison camps and a neutral country were not so great, and Germany was at least a nominal signatory of the Geneva Convention, which guaranteed certain basic rights for prisoners-of-war (under the Weimar Republic, Germany had been the first nation to sign it, in 1929). However, the distances were still long enough, and to reach safety hundreds of kilometres of enemy-occupied territory had to be crossed. Spies and police informers were everywhere, and whereas it was far easier for an Englishman or a Caucasian American, for example, to pass unnoticed while on the run in Europe than elsewhere, he could not pretend to be dumb; even if his forged papers were as near-perfect as could be, the jig would be up the moment he was obliged to open his mouth, unless he had faultless French, Italian or German, or one of the languages of Eastern Europe. Then as now, the English-speaking nations were not famous for their command of foreign tongues, though the study of them in prison camps was a practical way of alleviating the boredom and filling time profitably

Prison camps were sited carefully especially those for elite or troublesome captives in remote places and in a terrain which would add to the difficulties of escape: sandy soil or a high water table would make tunnelling harder, for example. In the beginning, however, escape over the wire or through the gates, disguised as a German soldier or a worker, was easier than it was later on, as guards became more experienced.

Some captured soldiers, sailors and airmen no doubt elected not even to try to escape: they may have been too badly wounded, they may have lacked the resources to get anywhere, or they may simply have been grateful to be out of the war. However, for most, on whatever side, there was a sense of duty that they should at least try to get back into the fight. This was recognised by the Geneva Convention, which decreed that no punishment more harsh than a couple of weeks solitary in the punishment block, or cooler, as both Germans and Allies called it, should be meted out to recaptured prisoners. Most escapers fully expected to enjoy no more than a few days liberty at most before being returned to their camps. And for every man who escaped, up to ten who did not belonged to the escape organisation within the camp which was responsible for getting him out: the tailors who could make civilian suits out of military jackets and greatcoats; the engineers, surveyors and miners who could design and build tunnels; the artists and printers and graphic designers who could forge documents; the look-outs (or stooges, as they were known) and the messengers and the diversion-creators; the German-speakers whose job it was to befriend and bribe or blackmail German guards into cooperation; the intelligence-gatherers; the entertainers who kept up morale and also provided cover for secret escape activity (among those RAF prisoners at Stalag-Luft III who went on to successful theatrical careers were Peter Butterworth, most famous in later years for his roles in the well-known Carry On comedy film series; John Casson, the son of Lewis Casson and Sybil Thorndike, and Rupert Davies, the creator of the role of Maigret for British television); and finally the administrators who held the whole thing together.

The sense of duty may have decreased among Axis prisoners-of-war as the tide turned after Stalingrad in November 1942, and conditions in Germany and central Europe worsened; but for Allied prisoners by the same token it increased. It would have been particularly keenly felt by elite troops pilots and aircrew, submariners, paratroopers and commandos. But something else has to be taken into account, which is the youth of most of the men concerned in the story which follows: few were older than thirty-three, most were in their early twenties. They had been highly (and expensively) trained for a particular job, and instead of doing it they were condemned to sit around, bored to death, badly fed and sex-starved, knowing that the action, their chance to participate in it, their chances of promotion and glory and their very lives, were all passing by. Some of the men who figure in this story had been captured very early in the war, and had hardly seen any action, which was an additional frustration.

No-one knew how long the war would last, except that after the euphoric hope of a short conflict died within the first few months, everyone knew that it would be a long one. The frustrated energy of youth, the boredom enforced on energetic minds, and the inactivity forced on energetic bodies, focused the attention of the best prisoners on ways of getting out. This, in turn, provided a means of deflecting those energies from conflicts within the prisoner populations, which were inevitable among so much stress and stagnation. Coupled to the idea of escape was the thought that in trying to get away, even if one only succeeded in eluding recapture for a few days, the escaper was diverting a few German resources from fighting to tracking the escaper down. To escape was to contribute to the war effort, and all elite prisoners on either side knew that their captors would be specially keen not to let them get away. This was particularly true of Allied aircrews as the war entered its final phase and Germany began to suffer the shock of concentrated air-raids by day and night deeper and deeper into its territory, spreading increasing destruction and demoralisation.

Allied air force prisoners were guarded in camps run by the Luftwaffe. There was some sense in this: at least captors and captives would understand the same profession. Plenty of Germans had lost friends and family in Allied raids by the middle of the war, and would be unlikely to look kindly on captured bomber crew especially. An escaping airman would run an additional risk once on the loose: that of falling into the hands of a vengeful civilian population. But it was not until late in the war that Hitler threw out all regard for the Geneva Convention, in the case of the Great Escape from Stalag-Luft III.

Although as the war progressed German guards became more experienced at detecting escape plans and thwarting escape attempts, prisoners by the same token became more adept at the planning and execution of escapes. German guards were, with few exceptions, not plucked from the ranks of the fittest and most able conscripts, and as shortages in Germany grew, and quasi-friendships developed between guards and prisoners in the camps, it was not unusual, especially as the outcome of the war became more and more inevitable, that guards would clandestinely help escape efforts in exchange for some real coffee or chocolate from a Red Cross parcel. Acorn coffee can be a great persuader that ones countrys military fortunes are on a downward turn.