Four-Fifty Miles to Freedom — Chapter 5, Part 2 - The Flag Falls

[Illustration: _From a sketch by Capt. E.

B.

Burns, E. Kent Regt.

_ YOZGAD CAMP FROM N.

W.

A = Hospital House.

C----D = Course followed to river bed.

B = Upper House.

E = Market gardens.

C = Position of hole made in fowl-house wall.

] In accordance with the plan then settled we follow the river-bed until almost clear of the most westerly houses of the town, then turn right-handed up a stony track, passing between two high walls till the track ends.

A few more paces to the west and we shall be safe in the open country.

These few paces, however, will be along a main road directly in front of two or three houses on the outskirts of the town, but the alternative of following the river-bed farther and then turning up would necessitate passing through vegetable gardens, which, as already mentioned, are jealously guarded.

In the event, the original plan was justified by success, although the six of us, at this time unintentionally split up into parties of four and two, passed fully in view of a man sitting on one of the verandahs overlooking the road.

It was probably thanks to our fezes that we escaped detection, for other disguise we had none.

It was lucky that we had taken the precaution to cover our boots with felt pads, for the ring of an Englishman's boots on a metalled road would, we know, have aroused the envy and suspicion of any Turk who heard it, accustomed as he is to the soft footfall of the country sandal or "chariq."

Once comfortably clear of the town, the leading four could afford to wait for the other two to come up, and with their arrival we began to enjoy our first taste of freedom from Turkish toils.

The only question to disturb us now was whether Cochrane and Ellis had got out safely from their house.

So far, at any rate, there had been no sounds of an alarm.

We therefore lost no time in setting off to the rendezvous, where we hoped to join up as a complete party of eight.

This was to be at the bottom of the "Hades" ravine, at the point where it was crossed by the telegraph line to Angora.

The distance from our houses, as the crow flies, was perhaps two miles.

For this, taking into consideration the darkness of the night and the difficulty of the country, we had allowed two and a quarter hours.

At 11. 30 P.

M.

, any one who had failed to appear was to be considered recaptured or lost, and those who had arrived were to go on.

An absurdly liberal allowance of time you may say; but even the six whose movements we have followed, and who had the advantage of Johnny's guidance over a route reconnoitred by day, took till 11 P. M.

to cover these two miles.

We were experiencing, some of us for the first time, the difficulties of a night march.

In addition, it was our first trial of carrying our loads, weighing nearly fifty pounds, anywhere outside a cupboard.

No wonder then that our progress was slow, and at one time we began to think that we must have already crossed the line of telegraph which was to lead us down into "Hades" itself.

But there it was at last, and we were soon slipping down--only too literally--into the ravine.

Our first act, after quenching our thirst, was to fill up our water-bottles.

As 11. 30 approached, with still no sign of Cochrane and Ellis, we began to wonder whether, perhaps, they might not have gone on to another ravine in "Hades," and be awaiting the rest of us there;

so some commenced scouting around, while others remained to show their position by periodical flashes with a cigarette lighter.

This was so desolate a bit of country that the flashes entailed no appreciable risk.

At 11. 30 we decided to give them another quarter of an hour; to delay after that would be to jeopardise the remainder of the party, for it was already only four hours to dawn.

Great, therefore, was our relief when, at the last moment of this time of grace, we saw two forms appear on the skyline, and presently heard the rattle of loose shale as they picked their way towards our flashes.

So far so good; and we were soon exchanging mutual congratulations on joining up, and saying that even this one night's breath of freedom, after two and a half years' captivity, would be worth all the trouble of our preparations.

But we must go back for a moment and narrate the experiences of the late-comers in leaving their house.

This was called the Upper House, and to the east overlooked the main street below, but was separated from it by three shallow terraces, which boasted some treasured vegetables and a few fruit trees.

To the north the ground fell steeply by three higher terraces to a small patch of ground enclosed by walls.

It was here that we used to play the four-a-side hockey.

The upper terrace on this northern face was visible to a sentry at the main gate of the Hospital House, which was on the other side of a road running along the hockey ground wall.

The two remaining sides of the house abutted on tumble-down cottages, from which they were separated by a narrow alley.

At the north-western and south-western corners sentries were posted.

The number of officers escaping from this house was five.

The bars of a window on the side facing the main street had been cut with the aid of a steel saw, and at 9. 15 P.

M.

the five climbed down a rope-ladder to the ground.

Skirting the edge of the house at intervals of two minutes they crept quietly through the garden and reached the second of the three terraces on the north side, keeping well under the high bank.

Here they passed within three yards of the sentry's box, on the top of the bank above them.

Absolute silence was necessary, and this was the reason that the two had been so late in arriving at the rendezvous, for each step had to be taken with extreme care.

[Illustration: _From a sketch by Capt. K.

F.

Freeland, R. A.

_ UPPER HOUSE, YOZGAD, FROM N.

N.

E.

(WINTER TIME.

) A = Sentry's box.

B----C = Track followed by Cochrane and Ellis.

D = Hockey ground.

] The terrace a few yards beyond the sentry's box sloped down into the large market-garden to the west of the Hospital House.

On the south side of this was a wall, along which they picked their way.

Here, too, great caution was required.

Look-out huts had to be passed within a few yards, but finally they were across the garden.

A high wall had now to be climbed, but fortunately it was in bad repair and afforded good footholds.

Here Cochrane and Ellis heard voices.

An old woman had seen Stockley and Rich and was wanting to know what they were doing.

Our two did not wait to hear much more.

Turning right, they were on the same stony track up which the first party had turned from the river-bed, and now they followed Johnny's route till they finally struck the telegraph post and arrived at "Hades."

Ellis had arrived puffing and blowing, but there was no time to be lost if we were to be at anything like a safe distance from Yozgad before dawn broke.

Five minutes before midnight, then, we started off a complete party, and were soon scrambling up the northern side of "Hades" on to the plateau above.

Having left the line of telegraph poles for the sake of an easier ascent, we were unable at once to find it again.

Although it had been our original intention to follow the telegraph wires as likely to lead over a passable line of country, it was decided to waste no further time in a search for them.

Instead we would set off by compass and stars in a due westerly direction, and hope to pick them up again later on.

The ground proved favourable: our course took us over fairly level country, a considerable portion of which was under cultivation, and for some time we were walking over stubble.

Although there was no moon, our eyes rapidly accustomed themselves to the bright starlight, and hopeful progress was made, but not without occasional alarms.

The first occurred within an hour of leaving "Hades."

Looney was temporarily relieving Cochrane of his task of guiding the party, when the leading six suddenly found that the other two had disappeared, and inwardly cursed them for straggling.

In reality, what had happened was this: the party, moving in no regular formation, had got a little separated, when suddenly the two in the rear had seen the glowing tip of a cigarette moving obliquely towards them, and immediately afterwards descried the shadowy forms of three mounted men.

Quick as thought they lay down and waited till the horsemen had passed; the rest moved on in blissful ignorance of their danger, until, on turning for the others, they too saw the cigarette and realised what had happened.

Those three men were almost certainly gendarmes.

Apart from this, we occasionally found ourselves coming upon little groups of huts and villages, and these entailed wasteful detours.

We had, in addition, an uncomfortable feeling that we were leaving behind us a rather obvious track through the crops where yet uncut.

About 2 A. M.

we once more picked up the line of telegraph poles.

We were all the more glad to follow them as we saw difficult country ahead, and they were likely to lie along a practicable route.

Practicable it was, but then it is practicable to reach the bottom of most slopes if you are prepared to sit down and slide; for that is what we had to do for the latter part of the descent into the steep-sided ravine, across which our telegraph line now led us.

At least, however, we had the satisfaction of a much-needed drink from the crystal-clear water of a mountain stream.

Here indeed would have been an ideal hiding-place for the coming day;

we could have bathed and drunk to our hearts' content, shielded both from sun and view by enormous rocks which towered above us, almost on the water's edge.

But we were only seven or eight miles from Yozgad, and an hour lost now meant one to be made up later on.

After a drink, then, we clambered up the farther slope, to find as we struggled on that we were once more coming into open country, with less and less prospect of a suitable hiding-place.

To turn back was out of the question.

The first light of dawn caught us still moving forward, and within sight of a village.

The sun had not risen before men and women were on every side of us, going out to work in their fields.

We came to a stream running through a grove of trees, but it was too near the village to remain there.

Our freedom was to be short-lived, we thought, as we took a hurried drink and proceeded across more open country.

Eventually, at 4. 50, we dropped down into a tiny nullah on the open hillside.

The only merit of this spot was that it was not directly visible from the village.

It was obvious that we could not hope still further to escape observation from the fields if we continued to lie there all day, so Looney went off to scout around for something better.

A more hopeful nullah, with banks in places five feet high, was reported half a mile beyond the next low crest.

To that therefore we moved in broad daylight, glad to find that we should at least have some water, for a muddy trickle flowed down the nullah bed.

Without this the heat would have been intolerable, for, until late in the day, the banks proved too shelving to provide shade from the sun.

Even with water, Turkish-bath conditions are conducive neither to sleep nor appetite.

Not one of us slept a wink that day.

As to the day's ration, it was with difficulty that we forced ourselves to eat a quarter of a pound of salted meat and nine ounces of home-made biscuit--not an excessive amount, even when you add to it one and a half ounces a head of chocolate, which Grunt produced from the store of extras he was voluntarily carrying.

We reckoned that we were perhaps ten miles' distance from Yozgad.

After the events of the morning we entertained little hope of our whereabouts not having been reported, but we were to learn that we flattered ourselves as to the interest we aroused among the country people.

The fact at least remained, that we were left undisturbed in our somewhat obvious hiding-place: the only signs of life that we saw during the day were a shepherd with his flock of sheep grazing a quarter of a mile away, and a Turkish soldier who, in the early evening, came down to our nullah a little below us, and was probably himself a deserter and so a fugitive like ourselves.

Towards dusk we stood up and watched a stream of men and carts returning to their villages after the day's work in the fields.

By 7. 30 all was clear, and we lost no time in making our way to the line of telegraph poles which we could see disappearing over the crest of the next rise.

Alongside we found a splendid track, which we were able to follow over undulating country for several miles.

Nobby was in trouble with his "chariqs"; in spite of experiments carried out for weeks beforehand he had not succeeded in getting a pair which did not now gall him in one place or another.

This was serious, as he was relying on these country sandals to carry him down to the coast; strong English boots were hard to come by.

On this night, after several delays as one after another of his spares was tried and rejected, he was eventually able to wear a pair lent him by Cochrane.

Twilight had now faded, and we were dependent once more on the light of the stars.

The track, easily distinguishable while it kept to the telegraph poles, had begun to wind about as the country became more undulating.

In a little while it could no longer be followed with any certainty.

We therefore ceased to worry about the track and trusted to the telegraph to lead us towards Angora, until this too failed us, for it went too much to the north of west.

We thereupon proceeded on our proper course by compass.

We had started in the evening feeling unexpectedly fresh, and it says much for our training that the first night's march had left none of us in the least bit stiff.

Nevertheless the day in the hot sun and the lack of all sleep had tried us more severely than we thought, and we were now beginning to feel the effects.

The idea had been to have the regulation five minutes' halt at the end of every hour's marching, but we soon found that we were taking ten minutes' rest every half-hour.

We were, moreover, consumed with an appalling thirst; even at night the heat off the ground in this arid track of land was stifling, while the parched and cracked surface held out little hope of there being water in the vicinity.

At 11. 30 we decided we must have a long halt, in the hopes of a little sleep; two volunteers shared the watch.

Shortly after midnight we marched on again considerably refreshed, the main anxiety now being for water.

Two hours later we saw looming ahead a low ridge of hills, and decided to go and wait there until dawn should reveal the most likely direction for a drink.

A little searching round then showed us a fair-sized stream in the next valley to the south-west: in Asia Minor, however, where there is a perennial stream, there is fairly certain to be a village or two, and so it proved in this case;

but water we must have; besides, on the hillside, where we had rested till daylight, there now appeared a shepherd with his flock.

Hastily gathering up our kit, we dodged up dry and rocky nullahs and over the next ridge.

Once more it was broad daylight before we settled down for the day in our hiding-place, in rocky ground intersected with crevices just wide enough for a man to lie in.

On the way we had to descend a steep slope covered with loose shale, and this proved a sore test for important portions of our clothing, for it was impossible to keep to one's feet.

When four of the party went to the stream below us to fill up the water-bottles, they found they were within a few hundred yards of another village, so that one visit to water had to suffice for the rest of the day.

They had been seen by at least one boy who was looking after a flock of sheep near the stream.

We were lucky, however, to discover, close above our hiding-place, a tiny spring.

From this, thanks to a couple of water-holes dug with the adze by Perce, it was possible to collect about a mugful of water in an hour.

Cochrane now told off the party into watches by pairs; but, on watch or off, there was little or no sleep to be had.

During the morning we made a fire and "brewed" some arrowroot and cocoa, and had three ounces of chocolate apiece.

All of these Grunt and Ellis had carried in addition to their ordinary share of rations, and, try as we would, we found that, owing to the heat, we could not eat more than one and a half out of the ration of three biscuits allowed for that day.

Of course this saved food, but it also meant the gradual exhaustion of one's strength, and no reduction in the weight to be carried next day.

Our progress on the first two nights had not been up to expectation: we reckoned that we were still within eighteen miles of Yozgad, whereas we had hoped to cover something over twelve miles a day.

If we were unable to maintain our average when we were fresh and not yet pinched for food, we could hardly hope to do better after days of marching and semi-starvation.

Our advance on the third night was to provide little encouragement, for we barely made good another eight miles.

Having waited until 8 P. M.

before we dared to descend to the stream, we halted there in the dark for a deep drink and the refilling of our water-vessels.

Half an hour later we left the valley and found ourselves in a network of hills.

From these we only emerged into open country shortly before eleven o'clock, passing but one small channel of very bad water on the down-stream side of a village.

Our course now lay across an arid plain, featureless except for a few village tracks and low cone-shaped hills; and we began to wonder whether dawn would not find us without water or cover, when at 2 A. M.

we dropped into a patch of broken country, and decided we would rest there till daylight.

As a look round then disclosed no better hiding-place, we settled down where we were for the day.

The remains of an old spring were found, but it was dry.

Thanks to the chargals, most of our water-bottles were still three-quarters full; but this was little enough with which to start a day in the almost tropical sun.

Most of us rigged ourselves partial shelters with our towels and spare shirts, supported on khud-sticks.

These, however, provided little protection against the fierce rays.

But all things come to an end--even this seemingly interminable day; yet it was to be nothing compared to the night which followed.

FOOTNOTE:

[9] Since writing the above, we have learnt that the officers escaping from one of the other houses were unable to leave it until after 11 P.

M.

, and even then were at once seen, but took to their heels and got clear.

For some unaccountable reason the Turks only proceeded to check the officers of that particular house.

At dawn, the _chaouse_ taking rounds in the Hospital House was completely deceived by the dummies; not so, however, an interpreter, who had seen the same game played when Keeling's party escaped.

We thus enjoyed about 6½ hours' start.

The Turks were completely at a loss to know how the eight from Hospital House had got out of the garden.

The only possible means seemed to them to be that we had got _over_ the wall by means of nets flung out from a top window of the main building right over the outhouse.

The hole in the wall they took to be merely a blind!

The nets were simply goal nets made while at Changri, and of course used for none but their original purpose.

CHAPTER VI.