Colditz (30 page)

The invasion of North Africa in November 1942 by the Allies and the subsequent entry of the Germans and Italians into Vichy France (in the same month) had upset all the recognized ways of travelling to Spain from Switzerland. With the Germans present, new and much more clandestine “tourist” routes had to be organized.

Bill Fowler and Ronnie Littledale were the first of the Colditz colony in Switzerland to leave. They crossed the Swiss frontier into France on 25 January 1943. The British consular staff in Geneva arranged this crossing into France at Annemasse. A guide took them in hand. They crossed the Spanish frontier on 30 January. They marched the whole day, reaching the La Junqueras–Figueras
road at 4 p.m., and, while crossing it, they were arrested by Spanish soldiers who were patrolling the district in a lorry picking up the numerous refugees in the neighborhood. They seemed familiar with this routine and were not even armed.

They were taken to Figueras, where their heads were shaved and they were inoculated (Bill was tenth in line for the same needle). They were locked up in a cell with fourteen other men for almost three weeks. There was no furniture and little light; a single bucket, removed once every twenty-four hours, was provided for all natural functions. Prisoners were sick intermittently all day long. Two men died. Not until 22 February were they turned over to the British consul.

The POWs of Colditz saw and heard their first air-raids in January 1943—a strange excitement gripped them as they heard the throbbing of machines overhead, manned by men of their own nation who would mostly be home for breakfast in England. The Leuna Synthetic Oil from Coal Works, to the west of Colditz and south of Leipzig, appeared to be the target.

There was a big search on 21 January. The Germans retrieved German and French money and a lot of German accoutrements made out of linoleum, also false document stamps—carved from linoleum. They removed all the floor lino they could find from the prisoners' rooms.

Our Indian doctor Mazumdar started a hunger strike on 7 February. Captain Mazumdar, the only Indian in Colditz, had repeatedly asked to be moved to a POW camp for Indians to practice his religion there. This was his entitlement under Geneva Convention rules. The OKW repeatedly refused his request. He was
Deutschfeindlich
. He decided to go on hunger strike, following the example of Mahatma Gandhi who was also allegedly on hunger strike at that time in India. Mazumdar lost a lot of weight and after a fortnight the OKW gave in and he was moved to a camp for Indians near Bordeaux. True to Colditz tradition he escaped from there in 1944 and reached Switzerland safely.

On 13 February the
Kommandant
, Oberst Glaesche, was transferred from Colditz to the Ukraine, promoted to take charge of all POW camps in that region. Born in 1899, he died at Stuttgart-Degerloch in 1968.

Glaesche was really unable to control the Colditz POWs. At a loss, he avoided their contact. During his reign, escaping reached a climax and the punishment cells could not house the queue of those awaiting punishment. After six months he had to go. Eggers says they lost a man they all respected.

His successor was Oberstleutnant Prawitt, a more active man than Glaesche. He had been at Colditz for some weeks learning his job. He was forty-three
years of age, a Regular infantry officer, and a Prussian. He claimed he had been promoted to full colonel in February 1943 in a telephone message from the
Generalkommando
. He was a martinet, and once publicly admonished the guard commander, Hauptmann Thomann, for allowing one of his men to go on duty with his collar up to keep out the snow.

Oberst Prawitt often attended the parties given by rich families of Colditz, partaking to the full of the food and wine available. (When offered a cigar, for instance, he sometimes took more than one.) Although his outward appearance and bearing were generally those of a model German officer, he was in fact openly in opposition to Hitler, concealing his attitude only after the assassination plot of 20 July 1944.

On 15 February, a second
Prominenter
arrived in Colditz in the person of Lieutenant Michael Alexander to keep Giles Romilly company. He was the nephew of Field Marshal Alexander. He was awaiting court-martial because he had been captured in Africa while wearing German uniform.

The first four prisoners who officially called themselves “Gaullists” arrived on 25 February. They were counted as soldiers of the British Army with the same status as the British prisoners.

There were triumphant demonstrations around this date because of the defeat at Stalingrad, although the last Germans had surrendered on 2 February. It was therefore three weeks before the news was public in Germany, although the POWs in Colditz heard it on the wireless as soon as the BBC broadcast it.

On 1 March General von Block became Commander of Prisoners of War, District No. 4, Dresden.

Bag Dickinson managed to evade his guards once more, during an exercise period in the town jail. It was 7 March. On the exercise walk while screened by two POWs lighting up cigarettes, he dived under a table in the dim-lit hallway. He managed to reach Chemnitz for the second time on another bicycle, where he was again caught. The Germans' “Mousetrap” code signal to all the main cities, towns and villages within a large radius appeared to be effective. But Eggers says he was caught because of “abject carelessness.”

On 16 March there were 103 British officers in Colditz, forty-six Army, twenty-one Navy and twenty-one RAF, and fifteen orderlies. There were also two civilians. The Germans decided to send twelve officers back to Spangenburg. Some of them were Royal Engineers, not actually caught escaping anywhere, others had behaved themselves at IVC by committing no offense warranting “solitary.” One—Black Campbell—was obviously removed because of his fine advocacy on behalf of British POWs on court-martial charges.

A bold attempt to climb out of the Colditz prison yard and over the roofs of the
Kommandantur
for an exterior descent was made on 2 April by two French lieutenants, Edouard Desbats and Jean Caillaud. The idea for this attempt was born one rare foggy winter's day when the high roofs of the Castle were completely blanked out of sight. But how to take advantage of it? Soon after, and for the first and last time, the Germans held a cinema show for the prisoners in a building outside of the Castle. On the way back a lightning conductor was spotted, leading from the end of the roof of a
Kommandantur
building down to the moat, which did not appear to be guarded. The other end of the roof linked up at right angles with the coping of a building which gave on to the prisoners' courtyard.

But to climb up sixty feet on to roofs that were floodlit was a very dangerous business, particularly when there was no fog. So there was no point in being impatient. The roof project was studied with care. The fact was that those roofs, and the lightning conductor, were only two elements in the scheme, albeit very important ones. A way had to be found to get clear of the courtyard. A window in the Gaullists' quarters was within about two yards of a flat ledge of roof which abutted a square brick-built chimney. This rose above the gable of the roof they needed to reach. The gap between the window and the ledge could be bridged with a stout plank.

The chimney was the problem. There was a powerful lamp fixed to it on the courtyard side, so that sentries could see it as clearly at night as by day, and barbed wire was coiled around it, just above the kitchen roof. Later, returning from exercise in “the park,” another lightning conductor was noted on the face of the chimney, where there was no flood-lamp. It could be reached once past the barbed wire. Whether it would stand up to the weight of a man for the twenty-five to thirty-foot climb, with a sixty-foot drop below, was anybody's guess.

However, there was a lightning conductor in the prisoners' courtyard, leading down from the kitchen roof, which was built out from the main building, and about twelve feet high—an obvious place to test the strength of the conductor tube. A tennis ball got conveniently lodged on the roof, in the guttering. Caillaud, heavily built, hauled himself up and retrieved the ball safely. That problem had been resolved.

March was almost over. The days were getting longer. Fogs were few and far between. They could be ruled out. Caillaud and Desbats were getting impatient. Having convinced themselves that the sentries would not normally keep their eyes on the roofs they decided to take advantage of the period between the
evening
Appell
and lights-out at 10 p.m. The floodlight unfortunately would be on. During that period lots of rowdy prisoners would be in the courtyard, so covering up any noise from the escape attempt. There was a light covering of snow on the cobbles which had melted higher up.

With everything ready for that evening, 2 April, and with the escapers on the point of making a start, the bell rang at 9 p.m. for an extra
Appell
following an abortive escape attempt by a British officer. Desbats and Caillaud still felt they had to go, so immediately after
Appell
, wearing the minimum of clothes and rubber shoes, they hurried to the Gaullists' room, carrying a bundle containing civilian clothes and a long rope made from strips of palliasse cover.

The window bars had been sawn. First out was Desbats. Climbing on to the ledge, he ignored the plank that had been so laboriously placed across the void and jumped to the flat ledge. Caillaud followed having tied the rope to the bundle. The other end was attached to Desbats' belt. Desbats managed to get past a brick projection and the barbed wire. Conveniently there were metal hoops around the chimney, secured by large bolts. These served as securing points for the rope. “Lights out” was sounded in the courtyard. Soon it was empty of prisoners and the noise dwindled to silence.

Desbats continued his climb to a point about sixty feet above the German courtyard, from where he could see a guard on the far side. Caillaud had by now got on to the ledge, from where he eased the rope as Desbats made progress. Desbats had made his way to the other side of the chimney.

But in climbing the lightning conductor he dislodged a piece of brickwork. It fell on to the roof of the kitchen and from there into the German courtyard, making a frightful noise. Realizing the danger, Desbats tried to hurry his climb, but the rope with its bundle was a nuisance. If he could reach the roof he would be safer and out of sight of the sentries. He was getting tired. Effort was required to haul in the rope and secure it each time to an iron bolt before each upward step.

The sentry had heard the falling brick. Desbats, still making very slow progress, watched from the corner of his eye. Caillaud, who had heard the noise, but couldn't see Desbats, continued to release the rope, hoping all the time that they hadn't been spotted. But it was a vain hope! The sentry in the German courtyard shouted to another guard, and both of them, looking up, saw Desbats dangerously situated about ten feet below the roof that was his objective.

Shouts of “
Halt!
” were followed immediately by a shot, which gave the general alert. Desbats stopped climbing. He called out, “
Schiessen Sie nicht! Ich ergebe mich.
(Don't shoot! I'll give myself up.)” But it didn't stop the Germans.
With Desbats in the full light of the powerful floodlamps there was a hail of shots, hitting the brickwork above his head; one bullet was a very near miss. Püpcke quickly arrived and ordered the shooting to stop and assured Desbats that he could come down without danger. So down he came, down the sixty feet of lightning conductor to the ground.

Now the sentry in the prisoners' courtyard had also been alerted, and he could see Caillaud on his illuminated perch. As he raised his rifle to fire, a Frenchman rushed out of the French quarters, despite it being forbidden after dark, and persuaded the guard to lower his rifle.

Then the bell rang again for another
Appell
. After the previous
Appell
that evening at 9 p.m., the British retired to their bunks and most of them were soon asleep. Then shots rang out in the stillness. Men stirred and turned over; some sat up. Scarlet O'Hara was heard to remark, “Coo, did you hear that? Three
gros coups de fusil
!”

More shots followed.

Black-out blinds were raised. (Although the outside of the Castle was floodlit, prison orders were to the effect that blinds must be drawn. It was a precautionary measure in the event of air-raids, when the floodlights were always extinguished. The order was, needless to say, flagrantly disobeyed.) Lights went on in the courtyard windows like patches in the quilt of night. Windows opened. There were shouts, orders, jeers, counter-orders and laughter. Windows shut again, blinds were lowered, and the lights went out one by one.

The annual “Day of the
Wehrmacht
” was 4 April. In the town of Colditz peas and bacon were sold for the last time. The
Oflag
IVC museum was opened to the public, and visitors were asked to give money for the WHW (Work for Help in Winter). Many visitors came to see the rich collection of escapers' contraband. For a year now the Germans had been X-raying the prisoners' parcels. They had discovered compasses, money, saws—all concealed in brushes, games, sports goods. Also exhibited were the home-made uniforms and ropes, and general carpentry and tools.

On 5 April more than 150 prisoners wanted to take part in the exercise walk in the park. This in itself should have aroused the curiosity and suspicions of Hauptmann Lange, the security officer. The POWs as usual did not march in any sort of military order but ambled along in disorderly fashion.

When they arrived in the German yard somebody called out from one of the windows that all the Dutch officers were to return to their quarters for a lecture. The result was that prisoners milled all over the place causing total confusion. The German duty officer ordered everyone back to quarters. Amidst
all this chaos two German officers stood watching the shambles with supercilious smiles on their faces. A guard asked them for their identity papers and one of them produced a document stamped and signed neatly by the German adjutant stating that the two officers were from the OKW and had permission to inspect all parts of the Castle. Purely by chance “Beau Max”—
Feldwebel
Grünert who was in charge of the camp parcels office—arrived on the scene. He was the best man to recognize every prisoner in the camp and as soon as he saw them he exposed them as a Dutch officer and an English officer. They were taken to the guardroom and positively identified as Captain Dufour and Flight-Lieutenant van Rood.