Great Escapes (12 page)

Inside the forest they changed into their civilian clothes, checked their documents for the umpteenth time and headed towards the railway station. Williams and Codner looked around for Oliver Philpot, but he had already gone. Taking their black combinations and their kit bags, they buried them in the woods and liberally sprinkled pepper over them. This would be to deter the guard dogs that would be sent after them to pick up their trail when their escape had been discovered.

Luck was with the two men, for as they arrived at the station the train pulled in and, after purchasing tickets, the men boarded. The train was going to Frankfurt and was crowded, and the two escapees stood in the corridor until it pulled into the station. In Frankfurt they made their way out of the station and into the town. They decided to find a cheap hotel, but after trying several they found them all to be full. They decided to move out into the countryside and find somewhere to sleep for the night. After a restless night under a hedge, Codner and Williams made their way back to the railway station. They discovered that there was a train to Kuestrin in an hour so they decided to get a coffee and went into the waiting room. The room was full of workers and German soldiers, but it was warm and helped them thaw out after the cold night in the open.

The coffee was made from acorns and tasted foul, but it was hot. Looking around the room Eric Williams noted that none of the workers or soldiers looked particularly fit and healthy. Whereas both he and Michael Codner looked very well in comparison – after all, they had been exercising whilst digging a tunnel for the past nine months.

They took the next train to Kuestrin, with the intention of getting to Stettin, where they hoped they would be able to get aboard a Swedish ship. Once again fortune smiled upon them, as there was only a short delay before their train arrived, but it was crowded with German soldiers to the point that there was barely enough room to stand. The train stopped at every station and slowly but surely the crowd thinned until finally they were able to get some seats. Within a couple of hours the train pulled in to the station.

The train to Stettin was not until the evening, so they decided to go into the town. After walking around the town, which was only very small, they realised that if they continued to walk around people might begin to wonder what they were doing there. Finding a bar, they had a beer and then realised that this was a
Stammgericht
café, a place where you could get a coupon-free meal of stew, which was made from generous helpings of potatoes, carrots and swedes. After finishing their bowls of
Stammgericht,
the two men felt much better, but decided that they would go to the cinema they had passed earlier, and stay in there until it was time to catch the train.

At the station, the clerk demanded to see all their papers and after scrutinising them he seemed satisfied and gave them their tickets to Stettin. When the train arrived they were pleased to see it was so full that no one could possibly carry out an inspection of passes and travel documents. After one stop, a large number of passengers got off allowing the two men to find seats in a carriage. They dozed off but were awakened by shouting; a ticket inspector, accompanied by two policemen, had boarded the train demanding to see everyone’s tickets. As the officials made their way through the railway carriage, the police picked on certain people and examined their travel passes and ID cards. Michael Codner got the tickets ready and handed them to the inspector, who glanced at the tickets and then at them. With a
‘Weiter
[carry on]’ he handed back the tickets and moved on followed by the policemen. The train pulled into Stettin and once again there was no check on passes, just ticket collectors. As the two men left the station, the cold wind from the Baltic lashed the rain against them, but the fact that they had got this far without any real problems, filled them with warmth and hope.

Once again their search for a hotel proved fruitless and so with the rain continuing to pour down, they looked for somewhere to shelter for the night. Sleeping outside was out of the question, so looking into a back garden they saw an air-raid shelter and decided to hide in there for the night and pray that there wasn’t a bombing raid due.

The following morning they awoke early and ate what was left of their biscuits before heading towards the docks. They would have to find somewhere else to sleep that night so they approached a French worker and, taking a chance, asked him if he knew of a cheap hotel. They were directed to the Hotel Schobel and passing themselves off as Frenchmen from the nearby French labour camp, booked in for the night. Once established in the hotel, they made their way down to the docks again in an effort to find a Swedish ship. The docks were heavily guarded and the two men watched from a safe distance as the German guards paced up and down, watching and checking all the comings and goings off the ships. They appeared to be constantly checking the papers of the seamen embarking and disembarking.

Going back to their hotel, Williams slit open the bottom of his mackintosh and pulled out a map that had been drawn by one of the escapees who had been caught in the area. It showed a map of the docks and, more importantly, the dock where the Swedish ships berthed. The two men made their way over to the dock only to find it enclosed by an 18ft barbed-wire fence and guards everywhere, but there berthed alongside the dock was a ship flying the Swedish flag. The plan was to return that night and get over the fence by climbing on top of a railway wagon that was close by the fence. That night they made their way to the docks only to find that the ship had sailed that evening.

For two days Williams and Codner watched the docks, but the routine of the guards did not vary, and so they decided to approach their escape from a different quarter. They had made contact with an English-speaking French barber and he told them of a man by the name of René in the French labour camp who had connections with the Danish Resistance organisation called
Speditøren,
which specialised in running an escape route in Denmark. In the meantime they had to get dock passes to get into the dock area. One of the Frenchmen lent them two of the passes and Eric Williams set about copying them. He had brought some of his ‘forging’ equipment with him – mapping pens, red and black ink and a rubber stamp of an eagle carrying a swastika made from the heel of a boot. The passes were on a pink card and cheaply printed, so there was not going to be a need for any finesse as regard to copying. After diluting some red ink with water, he soaked a piece of card in the solution until it was almost the same shade of pink. When the card had dried, he set about copying the details. When he finished, although they were not perfect, he was confident that they would pass scrutiny in the half-light of the dock area.

The barber then approached them and told them it would be safer for them if they went with him to the French labour camp, where they could stay whilst arrangements were made. He told them that the hotels in the area were not safe, as the proprietors had to declare their residents to the German authorities if they stayed more than two nights.

After spending two nights in the camp, the barber returned to tell them that he had arranged for them to meet a member of the crew of the Danish cargo ship
S.I. Norensen.
The crewmember, a man named Sigmund, was also a member of the Danish Resistance organisation they discovered later, and with great difficulty he managed to get them both on board the cargo ship which was bound for Copenhagen.

Just before the ship sailed, Codner and Williams were made to hide in a cramped corner of the bows where the anchor chain was situated. This was because just prior to sailing, the ship would be searched by German soldiers with dogs. Then one of the soldiers would stay aboard until they reached Swinemunde, where he would leave the ship.

For the next six hours they crouched in the tiny locker and waited. As the ship pitched and rolled, the temperature inside the locker dropped considerably and the insides of the steel hull were running with condensation. Both Codner and Williams were seasick and the cold had reached a stage where it was becoming almost unbearable. Then the engines slowed and the anchor chain rattled around inside the locker as it was dropped. After about twenty minutes there was a bumping and then the engines started up and the ship got under way again. The locker was opened and the grinning face of Sigmund looked in.

Once the ship had set sail, Williams and Codner felt they were free and both relaxed. That was until the captain received a radio message saying that the German SS were waiting in Copenhagen to arrest Sigmund. The message also said that a small fishing boat would rendezvous with them some miles from the port, and take Sigmund and the two escapees off. They would be put ashore at a remote point, where other members of the Resistance would be waiting.

About 5 miles from Copenhagen the cargo ship slowed as a small boat pulled alongside and the three men transferred to it. They were taken to shore where they were met by other members of the Resistance and provided with bicycles. The three men cycled, with their guide, to a remote farmhouse, which turned out to be the regional headquarters for the Resistance. Their departure from the cargo ship was not a moment too soon as it turned out, for thirty minutes after they had gone, German E-boats arrived to search the ship for Sigmund.

After spending a relaxing two days at the farmhouse, Sigmund took Williams and Codner to Copenhagen where they were hidden in his sister’s apartment. They were to stay there until the
S.I. Norensen
was ready to leave for Sweden, but Sigmund, who had been reconnoitring the docks, returned to the apartment and told them the area was crawling with German guards examining everything and everyone.

It was decided to abandon the idea of getting back aboard the cargo ship and so Sigmund bought three tickets for the electric railway that would take them to a small coastal village. Sigmund knew where he could find a small sailing boat, as the only option available to them now was to sail across the Kattegat, the stretch of water between Denmark and Sweden.

As darkness fell they approached the bridge which took them across to the little island where Sigmund knew a boat was moored. They were also aware that there would probably be guards. Suddenly Sigmund froze as the figure of a German sentry moved onto the bridge. Codner and Williams decided that there was no time to waste and hurriedly devised a plan to draw the guard to them. Codner staggered out onto the entrance of the bridge, moaning and then collapsed. The sentry challenged him, but on receiving no reply from the crumpled figure moved closer. As he reached Codner, Williams crept out and struck the guard on the back of the neck with a sock filled with sand. As the guard staggered, Codner grasped him by the legs and pulled him to the ground. As he did so, the guard managed to strike him with the butt of his rifle knocking him unconscious. In the meantime Williams had killed the guard by grabbing him round the neck and throttling him.

In the meantime, Sigmund had slipped over the bridge and found the sailing boat. Williams revived Codner and they arrived minutes later to find that Sigmund had the boat prepared. Climbing aboard, they pushed the boat silently away from the island. They tacked along the shoreline for a few miles and then struck out across the Kattegat to Sweden. The following morning, the little sailing boat with three tired men aboard sailed into Swedish waters.

After surrendering to the authorities the two men were sent to the British Consul in Goteburg. On arriving they asked if there was any news about Oliver Philpot and were told that he had arrived a week earlier. That same evening the three men were reunited and celebrated their successful escape. They were returned to England three days later and went quickly back to operational duties.

It is a fact that of all the allied servicemen picked up by the Danish Resistance during the war, not one was ever taken by the Germans. The remarkable story of the Danish Resistance and their part in saving over 75 per cent of their Jewish population is a story in itself.

This was not the only escape from
Stalag Luft III.
In March 1944, eighty officers of the RAF made their escape via one of the most elaborate escape tunnels ever built. Of the eighty who went, seventy-six escaped; the other four were caught at the mouth of the tunnel when the escape was spotted.

The great escape from
Stalag Luft III
was the greatest mass escape from a prisoner of war camp ever known. It caused the Germans serious problems and great embarrassment and tied up thousands of troops and civilians in the search for the prisoners.

The arrival of the charismatic Squadron Leader Roger Bushell at the camp was to be the spark that ignited the flame that was needed to focus everyone on the need to escape.

Roger Bushell had been born in South Africa but educated in England. He had been shot down over Dunkirk attempting to protect the soldiers on the beach from the
Stuka
dive-bombers. After crash-landing in a field he had been captured and taken to a
Dulag Luft (Durchgangslager Luftwaffe)
transit camp.

Unfortunately for the Germans, Roger Bushell had been a barrister in civilian life with a reputation for being belligerent, as the interrogators found out from his acid tongue. On realising that they were getting nowhere, they turned him loose into the camp. There he met with his fellow inmates, among whom were Wing Commander ‘Wings’ Day, Major Johnny Dodge, Lt. Cmdr Peter Fanshawe and Jimmy Buckley of the Royal Navy.

Within days of arriving, Roger Bushell had organised the digging of a tunnel. Cutting a trapdoor under the beds of one of the inmates, they burrowed their way out of the hut, under the compound and the wire, but with less than 8ft to go they hit a spring and the tunnel was flooded. The Germans discovered a second tunnel shortly after it had been started. A third tunnel was begun but the onset of winter put it on hold. Walking more than 200km towards a friendly border in snow, with very little food and in hostile country, was not to be recommended.