大象传媒

he following descriptions in quotation marks are Len Moss鈥檚 own words, his description of the event of the)

"My head appeared to be against something hard at the back and soil enveloped my face. However, just below the rim of my steel helmet I could see a little light and that gave me hope. The soil was sandy and loamy and I had to keep my mouth closed to stop it entering. I could barely breathe through my nose and because the pressure was so intense I had to develop shallow breathing to stop my chest from hurting. And let me tell you, when you're buried alive your natural instinct is to panic and not to breath shallowly at all. I came to conclude in those first few dreadful minutes of consciousness that I couldn't move a muscle. My legs seemed to be outstretched and my torso was twisted to the right. What and end to a not so perfect day. I drifted in and out of consciousness while up above a heavy vehicles engine roared into life, although the sound was muffled. I tried to shout but all that came out was a muffled "mmmmm, mmmmm, "."

Something liquid spatters on his helmet from down above. Water.

COPSE - NIGHT

At the bottom of the grassy bank Moss rolled down there's a wooded area. A large crater lies nearby marking where the mortar fell.

A German self-propelled gun has drawn up and sits with the engine idling. The sheer weight of the vehicle has churned up the ground and caved in a slit trench dug near a low wall.

A German soldier beside the vehicle, urinating into what remains of the slit trench.

Finishing up, he jumps up onto it and gets inside the turret hatch. With a roar the engine kicks into life and the vehicle drives off into the night.

Pretty soon it's quiet again.

The trench. We get closer to it.

Closer.

The closer we get, the louder Moss' muffled cries for help become.

UNDERGROUND - DARKNESS

Moss' face.

Eventually, either through fatigue or depression he stops trying to shout. A continuous gentle thudding resonates through the compacted earth.

"Even though I couldn't hear them, I could feel the distant thud of mortars through the ground. I was alone."

A solitary tear rolls down his cheek.

"I drifted in and out of consciousness for some time but at least the pressure was no longer as great on me since the vehicle had moved off. However, my chest hurt abominably and so breathing was difficult. I tried to keep my mind aware and active but it's very hard when you can't hear see or smell anything and all you have to look at is soil."

NIGHT SKY

The silvery moon moves out from behind a mass of thin cloud, making it semi-transparent.

"What little light filtered down to me seemed to change now and then in intensity and I amused myself by thinking this must be due to cloud cover. It's amazing what you can find to think about when you have to."

Back in THE TRENCH tomb. Underground. Dark.

"Time passed in an indeterminate manner, broken sometimes with sudden awakenings. I became bitterly cold and unusually thirsty. I tried to move my fingers but without much success and as my left arm was bent over my body and the right was under me, it was hardly surprising. Eventually, what remaining light filtered under the brim of my helmet disappeared and there was total blackness. Fits of panic came over me but there was nothing I could do except wait for them to subside. I knew that if I was to ever get out of this hole, panic would not be the answer."

Wednesday 20th September

UNDERGROUND - DARKNESS

Moss' face. Eyes closed. More light on him than before.

The distant thud of mortars signals that dawn has come.

A Centipede crawls into view, twitching and testing with it's creepy feelers. The insect starts to crawl up Moss' nose and his eyes open wide.

Snort. He blows the Centipede out with a gust that leaves a glistening blob of mucus on his upper lip.

He tries moving his head but groans in pain, the sound muffled by the compacted soil. However, it moves a bit - just a bit.

"Throughout the day as I knew it came the constant concussive thuds of the mortar fire. Occasionally I tried with my left hand to clench a fist and I found that I was getting some movement back".

Left hand. Twisted and dirty. His fingers twitch. Not much, but it's a start.

Moss smiles with relief at the progress. Rome wasn't built in a day.

"The coldness seemed to wear off and then return again when I least expected it. Despair came in waves and hope dwindled. How I survived that day and the succeeding night I shall never know. Having started to turn my head gradually left and right I had managed to compress some of the soil and gained some movement."

We see him making slow progress rocking his head from side to side, compressing the soil.

"However, I brought down some loose soil that almost blocked my nose and while I gained some more light, the night passed interminably slowly."

His eyes close.

Thursday 21st September

UNDERGROUND - DARKNESS

Moss' face. Eyes closed.

More light on him than before.

Those mortars carry on thudding and Moss wakes up with a start and a muffled shout from his delirious ramblings.

"That was how it continued for a while. It seemed that I would become elevated from my body and I would be back somewhere in England with people that I knew. I would relive things that I'd done and then with a jolt I'd be brought back to the harsh reality of my predicament."

When it becomes apparent that he's still trapped Moss starts to whimper and weep.

"I had been down here a day and a half. I was desperately thirsty and wracked by pangs of hunger. How I longed for a piece of chocolate."

Something slithers across his face. Another insect of some kind. Adeptly he opens his mouth and sucks it in, quickly crunching and chewing down whatever it is.

"I started to try and move the fingers of my left arm again and found that I could practically open and clench my fist."

His hand flexes, the fingers move.

"But I couldn't raise my arm. I tried pulling my arm towards me but the pain in my chest was agonising, so I contented myself at intervals by opening and clenching my hand and found that the soil was loosening."

On his thumb, moving. Scraping at the soil.

"I started using my thumb as a lever, pushing the soil away, endeavouring all the time to get my forearm towards me. There was something solid above my waist and I tried using this as a fulcrum for my fingers. A gap below the object manifested itself as if whatever it was had prevented the earth from consolidating below it. This was a glimmer of hope. I worked on. After a while I could now turn the whole of my forearm. This may not seem like much to you, but to me it was everything. Hope surged within me and I began to use my forearm and hand like a shovel, picking up dirt and depositing as best I could, compressing it where possible to give more scope to my hand."

Having rested, Moss begins to work away again with his hand.

"This was exhausting work at first as my movements were so limited. But in between fits of pain, exhaustion and a creeping paralysis, eventually the breakthrough came in an unexpected way."

His hand now free of the restrictive object, Moss is able to use it and the forearm in a rotating movement, back and forth.

"As the earth loosened and fell below my elbow my arm moved higher and higher. It was getting much easier."

SURFACE - DAY

We're at ground level. All around is mud and grass and churned up earth. After a few moments the ground bends and breaks as muddy fingers break through. They seem to stretch and taste the air greedily with relief.

"At last my hand broke through the surface but my elation was short lived. I wondered 'what now'? My upper arm was still trapped and I had no way of getting my head clear. How I longed to be able to breathe properly again."

His hand starts clawing at the earth, pulling it away and compacting it, making a clear space.

"Oblivious now to everything else I concentrated on moving my forearm in a circle at the wrist. As the soil compacted it gained more freedom. Now I could move it backwards and forwards some six inches or so. Loose soil dropped down around my elbow and it seemed my elbow was moving higher and higher as the loose earth compacted underneath it."

Back UNDERGROUND.

We can see more of what he's doing.

"Then I started to thrust my hand towards the right using my body as a fulcrum. It seemed to take hours, stopping and starting because of the pain it caused, but what spurred me on was the increasing movement. With one tremendous effort I pushed the whole of my arm upwards and out."

On the SURFACE

Moss' forearm pushes up and out of the ground, a disembodied limb, falling limply on the surface.

"I knew that success was now within my grasp but the effort had been so great and the consequential pain so huge that I once again passed out."

Later...

UNDERGROUND

Moss' face. There's more light coming in through the hole his arm has made and we can see him better.

He's moving his arm, scraping away at the earth up above.

"When I came to again a feeling of elation swept through me and I set about acquiring my freedom as best as I was able. I began to liken my hand to the mechanical claw you see at the fairground."

SURFACE

His arm works as described.

"I couldn't see what I was doing at this stage and at first I tried to shovel earth away in a sweeping motion but this didn't seem to be having much effect. Then I resolved to use a grabbing action, compressing handfuls of soil and trying to deposit the lumps as far away as possible."

UNDERGROUND

Later...

"As I worked away for what seemed to be hours, the breakthrough that I had been striving for came."

Soil tumbles down past his face causing him to spit and blink.

"The soil around my face began to fall away and I was finding it easier to use my arm from the shoulder. Frantically I scraped my face clear and I felt an enormous feeling of relief as fresh air touched my skin."

Moving his head with new light on his face, Moss breaks out into a big grin taking in a lung-full of fresh air. This is a happy moment.

"I spat foreign material from my mouth and even the ensuing pain couldn't dispel the pleasure of being able to appreciate a few gulps of fresh air."

Later...

He's now making real progress. It still involves a lot of fumbling and groping in dark confined spaces but at least he can move.

"Progress was still slow but I was now able to clear material around my upper torso. Eventually, having cleared as much from my chest area as was necessary I worked on the area of my right arm. All the while I was compressing handfuls of soil and was now in a position to be able to hurl them forwards. I cleared as much from my right arm as I could but I was still not able to turn. I then began to investigate where my left hand had initially been."

Moving his hand down into the darkness, Moss finds the barrel of a rifle which he explores.

"Removal of the soil in this area started to expose the breach of a rifle. Further excavation began to release what appeared to be the German rifle I had with me at the time of my entombment. Following along the length and loosening the soil as I went, I discovered that the barrel was bent at the spout where it was forced into a wall."

His hand pulls, grabs, digs and grapples with the rifle barrel eventually clearing away enough material to get it free.

"Working solely around the muzzle I at last managed to get my hand around it and pull it towards me. This brought a further avalanche of soil down, but the loosened earth was much easier to deal with than the compacted type."

An area of soil caves in around the freed rifle but it's easier to work with so he can make faster progress with his digging.

"I thought that initially I might work the rifle up and out but then I realised that I could use it as a lever of some kind. This rifle had been the only thing that had been holding me back."

We see him moving the rifle into position and doing as he describes, albeit with difficulty in the confined space.

"Placing the rifle butt at my left side and the barrel away from me, I found that I could get my left shoulder higher and higher. Resting at intervals, loose earth was now falling back behind me, increasing my posture into a more upright position from the waist."

After all the wriggling he gives it one last big heave ho and hauls himself partially upright in the newly excavated space.

"My right shoulder was freeing itself at the same time and with one last desperate heave on the rifle, I was sitting partially upright and my right hand was free. I waited for a bit of life to flow back into my right arm and eventually braved everything by putting hands down and pushing upwards. Raking soil behind me now was giving my back support."

DISSOLVE:

Later...

Resting, he's dirty, sweating but has managed to excavate more of the soil and make more free room.

"The pain in my chest racked me with almost every movement but I became immune to it."

On his lap rests the small back pack he was wearing when imprisoned.

"I managed to free my small pack from my back with some difficulty, but much to my delight and amazement the entrenching tool was still in place."

A small smile comes to his weary face when he finds that the entrenching tool is still there. He checks it over like a small child unwrapping a Christmas present.

"This meant that the contents were probably untouched too. I opened the pack and found that there were two twenty four hour ration packs with my mess tins."

Inside the pack are some foil-wrapped rations packs. One is already open and he tears into it greedily.

"Frantically I opened one that had been used previously and sampled the most delicious piece of chocolate that I had ever tasted. Even the accompanying grit couldn't dampen the taste. A piece or two more and I began to make headway with the entrenching tool which consisted of part pick axe and part spade at right angles to the shaft."

Using the entrenching tool he starts to hack away at the soil.

Later...

We see him work as described.

"I had now reached a stage where I could clear soil from above my legs, compacting some with both hands in great balls and throwing it outside. I also continued to push more backwards, building up a rest for my back."

As he digs Moss uncovers his water bottle and as soon as he realises what it is, he grabs at it greedily. Pulling off the cap he takes one gulp of water to swill out his mouth and then drinks the second one down. That tastes good.

DISSOLVE:

Later...

Now working with increased intensity and freedom he's scrapped away all the soil so that now only his legs, feet and ankles remain firmly buried.

"I kept hacking away spurred on by the thought of freedom until only my feet were trapped. I still couldn't bend my knees and I was worried about this, but I was also worried about the prospect of another tank or half-track coming by and putting me back to square one."

DISSOLVE:

Later...

NIGHT

It's now well into the small hours and Moss is still hacking away at the ground with the entrenching tool.

There's not much light. Eventually Moss slumps back to take a rest and quickly falls into a deep sleep.... exhausted.

Friday 22nd September

TRENCH - DAWN

Light streams down through the top of the slit trench and the distant thud of mortars tells us that it's morning.

Moss wakes up with a start and quickly realises where he is.

Only his feet are now still trapped.

"I knew that the end was in sight and with a little more work I would be free, but I was hungry and weak and oh so tired. He takes a sip of water and attempts to bite a hard tack biscuit which nearly breaks a tooth."

Starting work with the tool again he drags earth away from around his knees. When he's cleared a space big enough he places both hands under his knees in the gap and pulls upwards as hard as he can.

Both legs and feet come away with a mini-avalanche of loose soil. Free at last.

Moss rolls over and rubs his legs, assuming the foetal position and laughing to himself, smiling with relief.

"As much as I wanted to be out of my tomb I knew that if I stood up straight away I would probably fall over. I had no idea what was waiting for me outside and I was just so damned tired that it felt good to just lie there and rub some life back into my legs."

DISSOLVE:

Later...

Pulling the belt from under his body, Moss finds that his Colt pistol is still in place. After giving it a quick check, he places it with his back pack.

Deep breaths. Steadying breaths.

"Eventually, after two days and three nights in my earthen prison I was at last ready to move."

He begins to heave himself upwards and out of the dank tomb.

Dragging the pistol belt and backpack behind, they become engulfed in the falling dirt.

TRENCH - DAY

Grass sways in the wind.

His fingers appear first, then very slowly Moss sticks his head up just over the lip of the trench. He scans the area.

MOSS' P.O.V

About two hundred yards away a German King Tiger tank lies up under heavy foliage, similar to the cover which is all around him. He sinks back down into the trench, obviously deflated at this set-back.

Then, having decided there's nothing else for it, he slips up over the edge of the trench and crawls away like a snake towards some nearby woods.

Glancing back over his shoulder, the tank looks quiet and still. There are no German voices, no shots, no pursuers.

Once into the dense woodland he scurries in a low crouch until a safe distance away.

COPSE - DAY

Taking a few moments to breathe deeply and sample the air, Moss leans back against a tree. He smiles when the sun hits his face and starts to strip off.

Shaking all the mud and dirt free, Moss uses some water from his canteen to clean his face and hands. In his small pack are some socks which he changes into.

After some chocolate and water he lights up a cigarette and nearly chokes on the first drag of smoke. Looking around nervously he puts the cigarette out rather than risk giving his position away.

There seems to be distant activity in all directions. Gun fire of all kinds. Smoke.

Taking his combat knife, which mysteriously has one third of the blade missing, he cuts the two compass buttons off his smock and couples them together.

Gathering up his gear, he heads off towards the south west.

However, he's barely gone thirty yards when through the undergrowth he sees an approaching helmet. Allied.

Moss sticks his hands up in the air and stands motionless. A man moves forwards, rifle at the ready and the expression on his face soon shows that he recognises Moss. It's Vulliger.

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.