大象传媒

CHAPTER SEVEN
THE MARCH

After that first night surrounded by trigger-happy guards, we began the long march through France, Belgium and Holland. Remember we had already marched this distance on our retreat, some 200 miles or so but this march was a terrible ordeal. At the end of each day's march we were lucky if we got some watery soup or a drop
of 'Ersatz' coffee. When it rained we had no change of clothing; our clothes had to dry on us. Men went down with dysentery then there were the lice. There seemed to be thousands of men on that march. I remember remarking to another old soldier, "There seems to be the whole British Army here, What hope for England now"? He looked at me and casting an eye over his shoulder said, "Just imagine you're returning from a match at Wembley. Just keep a cool head, look after your personal hygiene for this march will see the survival of the fittest". I like to think those harsh remarks helped me through the next 5 years but a great many didn't make it.
The villages we passed through were filled with German troops who delighted in jeering at us and those who spoke some English shouted, "What about the washing on the Siegfried line" and "We will look after your women for you when we get to England". We passed many already looted and smashed shops. Since our guards were spread out along the column we used to dash in and grab what little scraps we could find. I recall grabbing a small bag of sugar which adding a little to one's tongue helped rid one's self of the constant fainting sensations I was experiencing due to the lack of food and sleep. Not all were so fortunate. Ahead of me a small group of four men dashed into a potato patch. There was no warning, just shots from a single over enthusiastic guard. Ducking in an attempt to return to the slow marching line, three of them made it, but a young lad was hit and spun around with the force of it. Two more shots were fired into his jerking body until he lay still. I'll never forget that incident ever. We passed through an area where there had obviously been a serious battle. Bodies lay all around and it was obvious that they had lain there for some considerable time for their bellies had swollen to an enormous size as if they would burst at any moment. I had never seen anything like it before. Sure I had seen plenty of dead bodies but not in a state like this. It was grotesque and the stench was overpowering. The thought was always at the back of your mind, "Will this ever happen to me"?
Also in this sorry line were two 20 year olds from the Queens own Cameron Highlanders.
"When the French surrendered St Valery we wanted to fight on but we were out of food and ammunition so we had no choice. After that first night in the field we were on the march again we thought into Belgium. The roads were lined with armoured cars and troops with Tommy guns. After about eight miles we had a whispered talk and decided to make a break for it. Passing through a small village and on an agreed sign we broke away and into an empty house by the roadside and waited until the rest of the column had passed before crawling out the back and into some woods. We were so tired. We lay down and just slept. When it got dark we sneaked out and weighed up our position. We knew it was no use going back the way we came, it was too well guarded so we started a cross country trek, avoiding roads as much as we could. We had no idea where we were heading. We knew the chance we were taking and thought it worth it. It took us 21 days to get back to the coast. We had no food for the first four days making six altogether since they had eaten nothing two days prior to capture. On the fourth day we found a bottle of rum in an abandoned lorry and we managed to dig up a few potatoes with our jack knives, which was now the only weapon we had. The next night we came to a large house but approaching it we came across a German sentry. He was sound asleep, his rifle by his side. We made sure he didn't wake ever. Moving away from the house we came across another we thought was empty. Fortunately we didn鈥檛 hang around down stairs but made our way up into the attic where there was a double bed on which we rested for the night unaware of the danger we were in. We were awoken in the morning by voices, German voices. Quickly we crawled under the bed and waited but Jerry had beds down stairs and they too went to bed. We waited all day daring not to move even cough. When evening came the Germans left the house, we watched them from a window, creeping down stairs we saw the loaf left on the table, god how we wanted that loaf but discretion got the better of us.
We crept to some near by woods and rested. We were so hungry so we decided to go back to the house for the loaf. With a little rum we had remaining it was a real feast. Our next halt was at a large mansion type house now empty but in the kitchen we found tinned meat left by French Officers, a few scraps of bread, butter, sugar and rice. At night we heard cows bellowing and discovered some tethered in a near by field. We milked them each night. One night having regained some of our confidence we got 10 pints in one night so made a rice pudding. We spent four nights in the house without disturbance. Feeling much rested and fit we made for the coast where we discovered we were only two miles from a port. We spent a few nights searching for a boat until eventually we found a 20 footer on a river. We spent four more days collecting stores from the last house we had stayed in then waited a further four days for a favourable tide. Fortunately we both knew how to sail and fix a course by the stars. It was a stormy very dark night when we made our dash to the open sea. Reaching the mouth of the harbour we were challenged then fired at but we stuck to the oars until we were both overcome with exhaustion. Some how we managed to get the mast up and set the sails. We took it in turns at the wheel whilst the other slept. We couldn't sleep below due to the amount of water we had taken, possibly from the machine gun fired at us when we departed? At 6 p.m. that evening we sighted the British coast. Three ships in line close to the shore were passing when the last in line saw us and came at us at full speed. Neither of us could speak, we just grabbed hands". These two lads were fortunate but even with youth on their side, even they had to rest up for four days whilst the rest of us suffered in silence.

Sapper John Garbett of the Royal Engineers tells of his escape.
"I was taken prisoner at St.Valery on the 12th June and was grouped into a column of other prisoners and marched east. After approximately covering 200 or so Kilometres I felt I had had enough of all this marching. We were being marched from camp to camp if you can call them that. Together with a friend we were on the road once again and in a lapse of concentration by our closest guard we both dived towards a barn close to the roadside and flattened ourselves into a bed of nettles. Fortunately for us there was a disturbance at the rear of the column created by a French woman offering food to the prisoners. Naturally not having eaten for three or four days they rushed at her and she was overwhelmed by eager grabbing hands. The guards beat them back making full use of bayonets to get the prisoners back under control. That鈥檚 when we made our move. We waited until the column had passed then crawled into some bushes where we remained until nightfall. We moved off under darkness towards the coast. We came across a deserted house and entering we found clothes left behind by the previous owners and changed into peasant clothing in order to blend into the country side. There were plenty of vegetables in the garden, which sustained us. The following day we once again set off for the coast. We found it hard going but we lived on chickens and potatoes, all taken illegally. On our fourth day we reached the coast near Boulogne which placed us in an extraordinary position. Here we were to witness our bombers giving the Town hell.
After the raid we searched for a boat but were challenged by a sentry. Not wanting to hang around we both bolted for it. I think he was more startled than we were and after a pause he fired at us but missed. We managed to make our way to some trees close by putting some distance between our challenger and us. After a little consultation we decided a boat was out of the question so we decided to make for Spain. In order to look less conspicuous we walked openly through large Towns. We were challenged constantly and with my poor French I explained we were Belgians looking for work. Being unable to produce papers, we were told to report to the Police to obtain identity papers. Naturally we didn't trust this option so at each town or bridge crossing we bluffed it. Many French people helped us with food and money even to the extent of going without themselves. The route we took was Boulogne, Amiens, Beauvais, Gisors, Vernon, Nantes, Chartres, Vendome and Tours. It was here were leant about un-occupied France so we decided to head for Marseilles instead of Spain. We crossed the Frontier just out side Tours and caught a train to Marseilles. On arrival we were asked to produce our papers and were arrested by the French Police and placed in an old Military prison called fort St.Jean. After a few days we were allowed into the Town but warned not to leave it. It was here I lost my friend who I discovered much later went off to Spain. I attempted to stow away on various ships a number of times during the six weeks I was there but was discovered each time and handed back to the Police. Ignoring these escape failures, I really enjoyed my stay in Marseilles where I was befriended by a Corsican family who provided me with clothes and money. I made up my mind to try for Spain. I managed to avoid the Police at the Station and managed to climb aboard an express just as it was leaving. After a few narrow scrapes I arrived at the Pyrenees which took me two days to get through and although I crossed the frontier I was eventually arrested and imprisoned for a Month for entering Spain illegally. After my sentence I was handed over to the British Embassy in Madrid. From there I was passed through Gibraltar and onto a liner where in a first class cabin I was returned to the UK. All in all it had taken me six months plus loads of luck".

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