Dunkirk: The Men They Left Behind Part 6

The Long Way Home At this camp we were made to work, carrying stones etc., and those who fell behind were lashed with thorns and sticks.

Testimony of a British officer interned in the concentration camp at Miranda, Spain1 As the 40,000 POWs settled down to contemplate life in captivity, there was another group of survivors of the BEF who had escaped neither via Dunkirk nor the western French ports. Scattered across France were small groups of soldiers who had somehow missed the boats home yet had also managed to avoid capture. Throughout 1940, these 'evaders' faced up to the realities of their situation as they attempted to either settle into life in France or to make their way home. As the British emba.s.sy in Spain later reported, these evaders had refused to accept captivity in German hands and had gone through incredible hards.h.i.+ps, with a singular purpose: 'to get home to England, not to see their families, but to begin to fight again against the Germans'.2 Some of those at large in France and Belgium were men who had been wounded and left behind as their units retreated. Bypa.s.sed by the enemy, they treated their wounds as best they could and attempted to find shelter, many being taken into local homes and hidden by civilians. Others were men who had escaped from the columns of prisoners by jumping into ditches and hiding. John Forbes Christie, the bus conductor from Aberdeen, later wrote of his escape: 'We chose a spot on a slight rise on a right-hand bend in the road. Telling our fellow POWs around us that we were going, they closed in on the corn, which was growing right down to the edge of the roadway . . . There were whispered "Good Lucks" from the lads as we crouched low and entered the chest-high corn.'3 Accompanied by his mate Arthur, Christie darted into the field and began an adventure that would eventually take him to North Africa.

Some were simply men who were lost and alone, having somehow been missed by the advancing enemy and never having received orders to retreat. Discovering they could not reach Dunkirk without breaking through the enemy lines, they made their way cross-country and survived by pinching and plundering from the homes, shops and fields of France. They tried milking cows or dug up vegetables to cook on the stoves of abandoned homes. They picked spring greens and ate them raw, which had the effect of increasing their thirst.

Few of the evaders could have reached safety had it not been for the courage of the French civilians who fed them, housed them, gave them clothing, false papers and transported them from safe-house to safe-house. Many of the French people had good reason to help the stranded British soldiers; after all many French sons were also away from home. Parents could but wish that someone, somewhere, would offer similar kindness to their sons. These eager French civilians formed the basis of the eventual escape routes that developed in the following years, spiriting numerous Allied airmen away to safety. The routes through France took in a bewildering range of buildings. Some evaders found sanctuary in churches and convents, while others preferred the anonymity provided by brothels whose madams had a long-established tradition of asking no questions of their guests. A few found shelter with n.o.ble families who were able to house the evaders in palatial splendour, while the majority were more accustomed to the barns and cowsheds of poor French farmers.

However, not all encounters with civilians were encouraging. One group of evaders encountered the mayor of a French town who insisted they should hand over their weapons before continuing on their way. Despite stealing civilian clothes to disguise themselves, they were soon captured.

Another group who were captured by an enemy tank crew were simply told to follow the tank. At the first opportunity they darted off into cover, returning to the Allied lines a few days later. Two tank officers rejoined the Allied lines after disguising themselves as Belgian refugees. At one point they were captured by Germans, who failed to search them properly for weapons. The two officers waited for an opportunity then shot the Germans and escaped again. One group took a lift in a civilian car, replacing their military headgear with civilian caps in case they encountered any Germans. One officer who listened to the accounts of such evaders described the antics of the men who sneaked cross-country to rejoin the BEF as 'boy scouting'.

Most of these evaders were alone or in twos and threes. Only a few remained as cohesive units. One such unit was a group of eight Seaforth Highlanders who had managed to slip through the enemy lines at St Valery. With an officer in command of seven men from his platoon, they soon became known to their French hosts as 'Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs'. The problem for larger groups was keeping together when sneaking through the countryside. One group contained a soldier whose hearing had been damaged in the battle at St Valery. As a result he kept going missing since he could hardly hear instructions.

There were many hurdles for these evaders, not least of which were the rivers that lay between them and their planned journeys to safety. Since the Germans guarded all bridges that had not been destroyed during the Allied retreat, there was no way for the evaders to cross without getting their feet wet. Some were lucky to secure rowing boats, but often the men chose to avoid boats since that meant entering villages where they could not be certain of avoiding the enemy. Where possible, men built rafts from barn doors or improvised ropes from webbing straps to help the non-swimmer. Soldiers needed to get their clothes to the opposite bank but it was dangerous to swim fully dressed in heavy wool. So they swam rivers pus.h.i.+ng their boots and uniforms ahead of them, bundled up on makes.h.i.+ft floats. Unfortunate men who lost their uniforms during these river crossings were forced to raid civilian homes to find replacements.

Among the most optimistic of these evaders were the men who decided that the simplest way to reach safety would be to make their way to the coast, steal a boat and head north across the Channel to home. One British officer reached the coast opposite Jersey, only to hear the frustrating news that it had been occupied just three days before. For John Christie and his mate Arthur the first few days of their journey were spent in a state of confusion. Wearing overalls they had found during the march, they travelled by night, attempting to use the stars to guide them. In the darkness they almost stumbled into an enemy flak battery, but were fortunate to spot it as it opened fire on a British plane. Each day, they called at houses to find food, sizing up the occupants and only telling them their true ident.i.ty if they appeared trustworthy. They soon realized they would need plenty of luck if they were ever to reach safety. Reaching the coast near Hardelot they, like so many others, discovered there was little chance of finding a boat and decided to head inland to find an alternative route home. The decision was taken to head to St Pol, where Christie had made friends earlier in the year when his unit was based in the area. There they waited until it appeared safe to move on.

Another officer with the same idea at least got near a boat. Captain Guy Lowden was a veteran of the Great War who, prior to the collapse of the BEF, had been based at the vast British depot in Rouen. While at Rouen he had witnessed many lost and lonely soldiers arriving at his base, all hoping to rejoin their units. Captain Lowden was captured on 8 June, only to escape from one of the marching columns five days later. He had then attempted to find a boat to cross the Channel and fallen in with a group of British soldiers who promised Lowden they knew where to find boats and had an escape plan. What followed was farcical: The boat house, lavishly described by the troops as full of the most magnificent craft and stocked with every conceivable marine requirement, proved to be rather a tumbledown affair, well above high tide, and containing only some flashy racing c.o.c.klesh.e.l.ls, all badly holed. Of a number of boats drawn well above high water and all too heavy for us to s.h.i.+ft, the motor craft had no motors, the sailing craft no sails, and in short the grand stories of these ridiculous chaps were so much baloney! . . . Served us right for taking the troops' word for everything bless their stupid hearts.4 Now he was among the lost and lonely, hiding in the woods with a fellow British officer. While in hiding he wrote a succession of letters to his wife that he hid in the hope that they might one day reach her. In his second letter the captain wrote of his experiences in his early days as an evader: I think we've done all the traditional things hidden in barns (all escapers do this, right through history); lain and trembled while the enemy rummaged about the sheds where we lay, miraculously missing the one place where we were; stumbled suddenly on enemy sentries in villages or air fields on the downs, and beaten a panic-stricken retreat. At one place there was even a pretty girl who brought us food rich and delicious food, in plenty, with great hunks of fresh white bread in a basket. Yes, I think all conventions have been honoured.5 Still hoping to find a way back to England, Lowden and his comrade travelled by night, keeping to the woods to avoid the farms whose dogs were p.r.o.ne to howling when disturbed. By day they hid in barns, sometimes with the acquiescence of the owners, or simply concealed themselves anywhere they could stay warm and dry. One day saw them hidden in a vegetable pile while farm labourers worked around them. Lowden and his fellow escapee soon recognized they were not the only soldiers in hiding in the Pas de Calais. As he noted, every wandering labourer clad in blue overalls seemed to recoil when addressed in French, thus revealing himself as a British evader. The soldiers spent their spare time either sleeping, scavenging for food, or searching for fellow Britons who had resided in the area since the Great War. Some were even hidden by British men who had deserted during the Great War and had been living under an a.s.sumed ident.i.ty ever since.

For the men in hiding, certain factors played havoc with their morale. All picked up bits of news about the course of the war but seldom was this anything more than rumour. With no access to regular information channels they had no way of verifying what they heard. When news was seemingly good they felt a brief lifting of spirits only to be depressed once the news proved to be untrue. Derrick Peterson, in hiding with a group of over twenty fellow soldiers, recorded the news he received on 30 May: 'The simply terrific news that Italy, Turkey and America were in the war against Germany!' The following day he wrote: 'Further news was that Dunkirk had been completely destroyed and Calais taken that London had been completely evacuated and that the Germans were within five kilometres of Paris.' The bad news kept coming and on 9 June he recorded the rumour that King George had been taken prisoner and Chamberlain was dead. More rumours fed their see-sawing spirits: 'News of Russia having attacked Germany and taken over all of Poland! Turkey smas.h.i.+ng up Italy! British apparently retook Calais, Dunkirk and Boulogne!'6 A week later Peterson even heard that the Americans had supposedly landed at Brest with two motorized divisions.

Those who received their news direct from civilians with access to radio sets soon realized that Britain was in a perilous situation. Should they risk everything to attempt to reach home, or simply sit out the war in hiding? For some the question of trying to find a route home was irrelevant what difference did it make where they were, if the Germans would soon be occupying Britain anyway?

Others remained certain that it was their duty or indeed their destiny to report home to rejoin the war as soon as possible. One of those who never gave up hope of returning home was Captain Guy Lowden. After spending the early summer of 1940 sneaking around northern France attempting to steal a boat, Lowden was captured by the Gestapo in August while hiding in the northern city of Lille. At first they threatened to execute him as a spy since he was wearing civilian clothing. Instead of carrying out their threats, the Gestapo threw him into a cell where he was detained in solitary confinement until February 1941.

In the darkness, Lowden could hear the cries of a madman in the adjoining cell. He could hear the sounds of other men receiving beatings from their captors. It was an ominous sign. Was his neighbour a lunatic or a sane man driven mad by captivity and torture? Day upon day, Lowden faced interrogation from the Gestapo, always careful not to reveal the names of the kindly French people who had given him shelter. His cell was five paces long and four paces wide. It had one small window and no artificial light. He had a single blanket and a straw pallia.s.se to sleep on. Through the dark, damp days of winter the captain survived on a diet of soup, coffee and bread.

After six months of enduring the misery of solitary confinement, Lowden was fortunate to be transferred to Oflag 9. Maybe it was his advanced age that prevented the Gestapo from inflicting more severe punishment on him, since others were not so fortunate. At the prison in Loos a number of British escapers and evaders were held in detention. Among them was Corporal Norman Hogan, a reservist who had been called up in September 1939. He had been wounded during the last week of May 1940 and sent to hospital in Boulogne, then to a convalescence depot in the seaside resort of Paris-Plage. After escaping from the hospital he went on the run until he was captured by the Gestapo and imprisoned at the civilian prison in Loos. For five months Hogan was held in solitary confinement. In all that time he was never given an opportunity to exercise. Instead, like Captain Lowden, he spent his hours awaiting the next interrogation.

The methods employed by the Gestapo were less than subtle. They tried planting doc.u.ments on Hogan, hoping he would feel pressured to reveal the names of those who had a.s.sisted him. When he refused to talk he was kicked and beaten by military guards. When he tried to complain about their behaviour he was beaten again, losing a tooth in the process. After five months of mistreatment, Hogan was released and sent to a POW camp. In 1943 Hogan was repatriated to the UK as a result of his wounds and the mistreatment inflicted on him by the Gestapo. Another of the evaders held at Loos prison, Private Hoyle, fared better. He was also severely beaten by the Gestapo, but when he was transferred to a POW camp he was able to escape and reached home via Gibraltar.

Between September 1940 and March 1941 thirty-five evaders were captured in northern France and held in the prison at Loos. One of the thirty-five was Lance-Corporal Robert Dunbar of the London Scottish. He had been captured at St Valery but had escaped on the ninth day of the march into captivity. After being at large for three months, posing as a Belgian refugee and working in a French cafe, he was eventually captured. Initially held at Loos, he was then transferred to Lille, where he was interrogated by the Gestapo, who knocked one of his teeth out with a pistol-b.u.t.t. At his trial his French helpers were sentenced to a year's imprisonment and he received five months in solitary confinement. The sentence was carried out at Frontstalag 190 near Stuttgart. He survived on black bread, one cup of coffee and one bowl of soup a day, which left him so weak he could hardly move around his cell.

Despite this treatment Corporal Dunbar was not disheartened. Two days after his release from solitary confinement he escaped from the stalag and made his way to the south of France. From there he crossed into Spain where he was interned before being released upon the intervention of the British military attache in Madrid.

In February 1941 a report reached London suggesting that as many as 1,000 British soldiers remained in hiding in villages around Brussels, with one valiant Belgian industrialist collecting money to ensure the men could be fed. In April that year thirteen Belgians were tried for harbouring British troops. One man and one woman were sentenced to death while others received sentences of up to eight years' imprisonment. In September 1941 another report arrived from Spain giving the figure of 5,000 men believed to be in hiding or working on farms under a.s.sumed ident.i.ties in the towns and villages of the Pas de Calais.

Derrick Peterson, who remained in hiding throughout the summer, continued to record the rumours that wove their way around the men's emotions. Through June and July he had heard stories of a German invasion force of 60,000 men heading for Britain that was foiled by a secret British 'death ray'. On 1 August he heard that the Germans had used poison gas over British cities. Fortunately the stories were nothing more than that.

The question of what course of action the evaders should take continued to vex every man among them. Those who had settled comfortably into life on French farms knew that, if they were caught, their hosts faced savage reprisals. That summer, signs were posted across France threatening execution for anyone caught harbouring Allied soldiers. A few men chose to put their travel plans on hold in order to a.s.sist their hosts with gathering the harvest. They felt it was all they could do to help repay them for their kindness.

Once such considerations had pa.s.sed, there was the question of what the best route home would be. It seemed ridiculous to some to even consider walking south to Spain or Switzerland when home was little more than twenty miles away across the Channel. Surely, they reasoned, a boat would have to become available one day. Other groups discussed whether the safety of neutral Switzerland would be worth having to spend the rest of the war in internment. Some argued that would mean swapping the freedom of occupied France for the captivity of a neutral country. For many southern France the unoccupied zone of Vichy was their best bet. At least there they would be able to attempt escape to North Africa or Spain and Gibraltar.

As the year progressed the soldiers also realized they would not be able to spend the entire winter hiding in woods and barns. They would need permanent shelter to survive the cold. One evader estimated there were at least a dozen men hiding within a mile of his location. Each man needed to be fed and each mouth was a drain on their hosts. So, with such thoughts in mind, most of the evaders gave up on the notion of sailing home and prepared themselves for the long trek south. Derrick Peterson, who had faithfully recorded all the rumours about the course of the war, was one of the men who joined the march south. With just two companions, out of an original group of twenty-three evaders from his regiment, he took a haversack of food and began the long trek to the south of France. He and his comrades travelled by day, always attempting to look like farm workers, an image that was helped by carrying farm implements.

How to look like French civilians rather than British soldiers was something that perplexed many of the evaders. In the early days following the German victory some continue to brazenly wear their uniforms and walk around French villages as they had done back in the days of the phoney war. If they hoped to remain free they had to change these habits if not for their own sakes, then for the sake of their French hosts. Even in civilian clothing they had to make sure they did not march like soldiers and had to remember that French farm labourers would never be seen with highly polished boots. Similarly they had to forget the daily shaving habits of the British Army and develop facial hair. More importantly, the evaders had to learn to walk, sit and gesticulate like Frenchmen. However, above all else, the soldiers needed to at least learn to grasp the basics of the French language. The most successful evaders tended to be those who could read road signs and railway timetables, who could order food and drinks in cafes and ask for a.s.sistance from French civilians. Some chose to adopt the ident.i.ty of foreign labourers as cover for their poor command of French, claiming to be Flemish-speaking Belgians in search of employment. Some of the most proficient French-speaking evaders even dared to engage German soldiers in conversation. One evader started a conversation with a German only to discover the German spoke no French. The British soldier asked if the man spoke English, which he admitted he did. The two men then conversed in English until the British soldier departed, leaving the German blissfully unaware he had just been speaking to an English evader.

Fortunate to escape the attentions of the Germans, John Christie and his mate Arthur spent the entire summer of 1940 in hiding in the northern French town of St Pol, where they soon became aware of large numbers of troops ama.s.sing ready for the intended invasion of southern England. Despite these ominous troop build-ups, the local people disregarded their own safety to take the two Britons into their homes. Christie later wrote of this spirit of cooperation which seemed so far from the bickering between the politicians of the two Allied nations that had marred the military campaign: 'One thing my travels taught me at this period of my life was that there is a tremendous amount of goodness going around. It's only when you are really down that you get a chance to find out.'7 As the summer months pa.s.sed, they began to make preparations for the journey south. Like all evaders, their intention was to reach Vichy France in the south. But first they would need pa.s.ses and ident.i.ty cards to allow them to travel. Their friends stole pa.s.ses from the Germans to make counterfeits, concentrating on finding a copy of the necessary pa.s.s to leave the so-called Forbidden Zone around the French coast. The stamps for their pa.s.ses were made by cutting up the rubber heel of a shoe with a razor blade. The ink was obtained by extracting blue dye from a sheet of carbon paper.

By August 1940 they were finally ready to begin their journey: 'We set out that first day with high hopes and it was goodbye to cross-country travel, because armed with our false papers we decided that we could travel on the open roads once more.'8 The irony of their first few days travelling was that some locals were reluctant to help them since they had accepted the truce, and were not enamoured with British soldiers attempting to continue the war, while they were able to hitch lifts in German convoys who allowed the two make-believe Frenchmen to travel in the backs of their trucks.

Although months had pa.s.sed since the two men had been at the heart of the defeated army, it was not long before they were once again reminded of the scale of the defeat. Pa.s.sing through Amiens they witnessed a compound filled with the detritus of war: 'It was a huge concentration of artillery of all shapes and sizes, mainly British. Some of the guns had been "spiked", that is done by exploding a sh.e.l.l inside the barrel to burst the metal. The majority of them appeared to be undamaged . . . It brought home the measure of the ma.s.sive amount of equipment that the British Army had lost to the Germans.'9 Many of the evaders preferred to avoid the big cities, but Christie decided Paris was the perfect place from which to head south. Quite simply, a city was easy to hide in people were too concerned with their own problems to worry about two itinerant labourers who claimed to be heading south to find work in the grain harvest. Their main problem was how to avoid the crowds of German soldiers out on the streets. But they soon noticed the Germans were too busy visiting tourist sites and taking photographs to worry about them. One French-speaking evader later wrote of how he deliberately misdirected Germans who asked him for street directions.

Paris was also a city ravaged by war. The Germans may not have needed to fight their way into it but they had still made a vast impact. The requisitioning of French industrial goods caused ripples throughout France. Vast numbers of locomotives and railway wagons had been commandeered, leaving transport in short supply. Even French horses had been pressed into service for the enemy. Bread rations had fallen, shops were bereft of consumer goods and the sale of alcohol was restricted. There was also a curfew in force, limiting the movement of any would-be evaders during the hours of darkness. Such were the deprivations caused by the defeat and division of France that the death rate in Paris rose by 24 per cent.

These conditions encouraged the growth of a hostile population, some of whom welcomed the British evaders and were eager to offer a.s.sistance. There were also Irish citizens with links to the UK, Americans and Polish emigres who were more than willing to do anything to a.s.sist the army of a country still fighting the enemy. William Broad, a British officer in hiding in Paris while looking for a way to get his party of soldiers away from France, was one such man taken into the care of French civilians. He began to circulate openly in their company, dining in some of the best restaurants in Paris. One night in Maxim's he found himself enjoying his evening meal when Reichsmarschall Hermann Goering entered the room and sat down to dine.

Christie and Arthur were given food and shelter in Paris by a disabled French Great War veteran, who provided them with the ever-popular British dish of egg and chips. Welcome as it was, food and shelter was not all they needed. If they were to reach the south of France in safety they would need enough money to feed themselves and pay for train tickets. It was decided that the best source of funds would be the American emba.s.sy, which was still operating in the city. Using their forged French ident.i.ty papers, the two soldiers gained entry to the emba.s.sy, where they met a Mrs Deacon. She listened to their story and proved willing to a.s.sist. Handing them 600 francs each, she advised them to leave the city as soon as possible. They took her advice and that night they boarded a train at the Gare d'Austerlitz heading for the town of Angoulme.

On leaving Angoulme, the biggest problem was how to cross the demarcation line into the unoccupied zone without being apprehended. Forged identification papers were not enough; a special pa.s.s was needed to make the crossing legally. As a result most evaders attempted to cross in secret. It was not an easy process, nor was it helped by the fact there were no detailed maps available that showed the precise location of the border. After an attempted night crossing, during which they got lost, John Christie and his mate decided it would be safer to cross in daylight, when there was less chance of accidentally b.u.mping into a patrol. Daylight meant they could see the border and, keeping a German camp within their view, at a safe distance, the two men pa.s.sed safely into Vichy France. They were not yet home, they were not yet free, but at least they were safe, for the time being, from the Germans.

Not all the evaders were able to make a safe crossing. After weeks of walking, Derrick Peterson and his comrades pa.s.sed safely into the unoccupied zone of France. It seemed they were free, but five miles into Vichy they were picked up by French police, marched back to the demarcation line and handed over to a German patrol. After thirty-two days in a POW camp Peterson made good his escape in the company of a French artilleryman. From October 1940 until March 1941 he managed to evade detention within France. After arriving in the unoccupied zone for the second time, his French companion was forced to rejoin his unit and sent to North Africa, while Peterson teamed up with a fellow Briton who had escaped from a POW camp via the sewers. During this period he was a.s.sisted by the Americans. A letter from the American consul in Lyon detailing his escape from the stalag had actually reached the Peterson home before his parents had received official notification that he was a prisoner. In October they wrote to the Home Office, asking if it would be possible to forward money to their son. They received the reply that the Americans were funding him to the tune of 10 per month. Peterson's relieved parents immediately offered to repay all the American money. In April 1941 the two men crossed the Pyrenees into Spain and walked to Gibraltar. That month another two soldiers reached Gibraltar. It was Second-Lieutenant Parkinson of the Suss.e.x Regiment, accompanied by Private Bertie Bell, the only survivor of the ma.s.sacre of British prisoners in the Fort de Nieppe.

The Americans were not the only nationality able to help the evaders from the BEF. As a neutral state, the Irish retained diplomatic facilities within France. This opened up an obvious course of action for some evaders. Those with Irish heritage were able to request Irish pa.s.sports. By claiming to be civilians trapped in the south of France they were able to acquire the necessary doc.u.mentation to make the journey out of France, through Spain and into Gibraltar.

Arriving in Ma.r.s.eilles, the evaders had a number of options. Some men went straight to the Red Cross for a.s.sistance, visiting their canteen to get a hot meal. After days and weeks of walking, a hot meal was the one thing they needed more than anything else. Once that was finished they gravitated to the American Seaman's Mission at 35, Rue de Forbin, where they were able to collect money from the amiable Church of Scotland minister who ran the inst.i.tution. Reverend Donald Caskie had been the minister at a church in Gretna, Scotland, prior to moving to France in the late 1930s. Following the fall of France he had moved south to Ma.r.s.eilles to a.s.sist the stranded British merchant seamen, airmen and soldiers who had congregated at the Seaman's Mission in hope of shelter before finding a way home. Though a sign outside the mission read 'Civilians and Seamen Only' it had become a beacon for soldiers arriving in Ma.r.s.eilles. Indeed, 100,000 French francs had been made available to Donald Caskie by the British government for the relief of the British soldiers. Once settled at the mission, the evaders gravitated towards the port to seek a way out of France by boat. But although the quaysides were full of s.h.i.+ps, each one was guarded by French police and troops. There seemed to be little chance of either stowing away or finding a berth on a s.h.i.+p.

From the mission the kindly minister used his own money to forward mail to the UK via American diplomatic channels. It was a vital channel to ensure that the families of the evaders received the welcome news that their husbands and sons were alive and safe. The wife of Lance-Corporal Fred Verity, of the East Lancas.h.i.+re Regiment, received a telegram sent from Ma.r.s.eilles on 10 August 1940. It informed her: 'Fred safe in Ma.r.s.eilles'10 and had been sent by someone named Osborn. The message amazed Mrs Verity since she had already been officially informed of her husband's death. One officer used the minister's mail service to request the Foreign Office repay 17 he had borrowed from the American consulate to aid his journey to Ma.r.s.eilles. He need not have worried since they had already requested financial a.s.sistance from the Americans. In addition, the Foreign Office asked the American emba.s.sy in France to hand over $100,000 to the representative of the Quakers in Ma.r.s.eilles in order that he too could a.s.sist the evaders.

In the early days following the defeat of the BEF, some evaders who reached Ma.r.s.eilles made contact with Polish soldiers in the city. In August 1940 the Polish legation reported that there existed a group of fifty dest.i.tute British soldiers in the city who were entirely reliant upon the generosity of their Polish allies. The Polish camp, in the Queen Victoria Memorial Hospital, became a haven for men who intended to escape since the Poles had no intention of handing anyone over to the French authorities and unlike the French had little interest in whether their behaviour upset the Germans. They even attempted to establish an escape network involving sending Britons to Spain on pa.s.sports provided by the Polish consul.

Also a.s.sisting evaders to leave Ma.r.s.eilles was Captain Charles Murchie of the Royal Army Service Corps. He ran a team of twenty-five guides who operated from the area around Lille. Their task was to send evaders on to a 'reception centre' in Paris. From there, the men made their way into the unoccupied zone. Initially, Murchie sent men from Ma.r.s.eilles to North Africa by boat, until London requested he begin to send them via Spain. By early 1941, the system he had established operated smoothly. Captain Murchie's northern guides brought men across the Vichy border and submitted to him expenses claims for costs incurred during the journey. He also gave the guides money for their fares home. So successful was the system that Murchie was forced to give up his endeavours. He had simply become too well known to be able to continue to operate. He found men arriving from as far away as Brussels and asking for him openly by name. When French attention became too great, Captain Murchie was himself forced to flee to Spain, taking with him a British sergeant who had been his a.s.sistant and Andre Minne, a Lille cafe-owner who had made five journeys to Ma.r.s.eilles as a guide to evaders.

When John Christie arrived in the unoccupied zone he took a train to Ma.r.s.eilles and then telephoned the American consulate. By February 1941 the US consul had provided a.s.sistance to 400 British soldiers who had escaped from the occupied zone. However, not all the men seeking a.s.sistance received the advice they desired. When John Christie and his companion finally reached the port, the consul advised they hand themselves over to the French authorities at the local barracks of the French Foreign Legion.

The barracks to which they were sent became a vital waypoint in the evaders' journeys to freedom. Located in the old port, the Fort St Jean was famed as the Foreign Legion headquarters and its main recruiting base. Entered via an iron bridge across the harbour waters, the seventeenth-century fort was on a rocky island, totally surrounded by water. By January 1941 Fort St Jean was home to eleven British officers, forty-nine NCOs and 175 other ranks.

Some evaders initially found themselves interned in the Ste Marthe barracks, a detention barracks for the Foreign Legion. Conditions within the camp were appalling and there were no toilet facilities. Instead they had to use the prison yard that was swilled down each morning. Other evaders were interned in the Fort de la Revere in Nice where the senior British officer, Captain Whitney, reported to the Foreign Office on the 'absolutely unbearable'11 conditions, the cases of tuberculosis and the suspicion of German infiltration. A similar situation was found in the internment camp at St Hippolyte du Fort, near Perpignan, where a soldier turned up calling himself MacBrendan. Back in the UK checks were made on his ident.i.ty. No records could be found of his birth, or his claimed service in the British Army during the Great War, or of his having been involved in military intelligence with the BEF.

Once inside Fort St Jean, John Christie found himself directed to the room that was to be his home as an internee. He would be sharing it with about twenty other ranks, including a fifty-five-year-old veteran of the Great War, while three officers were housed in a separate room. Others within the fort slept in cells, to which the doors were fortunately left open all day. Each morning the men rose at 7 a.m., ate breakfast at 8 a.m., then paraded at 9 a.m. For the rest of the day there was little for them to do. The internees were allowed to give their parole and go into town, with officers allowed out at any time and other ranks allowed out between 6 a.m. and 9 p.m. Once in the town, they were free to visit the Seaman's Mission and were able to collect the money that was available via the Reverend Donald Caskie.

Although it was a vast improvement on sleeping in woods and barns, life in the fort was far from comfortable. The internees reported they were in desperate need of extra blankets and winter clothing. The treatment experienced by some of the sick internees was also not up to accepted standards. One soldier, a Private Street, was interned in the hospital at St Hippolyte du Fort. He had lost an arm during the battles in northern France and had also suffered serious chest wounds. Fellow internees noted his health was failing fast since French doctors were unwilling to operate on him.

In general, however, conditions of internment, while not comfortable, were at least not onerous. As the French described it, this was a case of liberte surveillee. In the words of escaping Britons, it was 'rough and ready'.12 After weeks or months of scrounging food they could at least expect French military rations that included a litre of red wine per man per day. At St Hippolyte, two British soldiers even requested permission to marry local women they had befriended while on visits to the town. In particular, the other ranks were pleased that the officers made little effort to enforce order upon them. Instead of taking control, they appeared to live their own lives until the time came for them to disappear and head towards freedom. It was just as well, as John Christie noted: 'We remained very much a collection of individuals. We had reached Ma.r.s.eilles very much under our own steam, either singly or in pairs and none of us was very inclined to give up any part of control over our own destiny.'13 The independent nature of the men who had made their way safely through occupied France to the unoccupied zone meant that few among them were prepared to sit out the war in the stupefying boredom of an internment camp especially when the camp was filled with lice and some French guards were stealing their food parcels. When they went into the town many faced a hostile reception from locals, especially French sailors who were angered by the British sinking of French s.h.i.+ps at Oran. One or two, in particular the sick and wounded who had been promised repatriation, made no attempt to escape the fort. However, for the majority leaving France remained their aim. Using the same independent means that had brought them south, the internees gradually slipped away to make their way home. One officer approached the commandant at Fort St Jean and informed him he wished to withdraw his parole. The commandant understood exactly what he meant and replied: 'So you're off again good luck.'14 On another occasion, when the commandant met up with a British medical officer who had been returned to the fort following an unsuccessful attempt to stow away on a s.h.i.+p, he told him: 'Better luck next time!'15 The nearest British territory was Gibraltar. From there, escapees knew they would be able to report to the authorities and eventually rejoin their units. The preferred route of escape from France to Gibraltar was via Spain, paying up to 1,000 French francs per man to be smuggled over the Pyrenees to Barcelona. Some evaders even found themselves accompanied by French guides who did not ask for money; instead they requested the soldier a.s.sist them to reach England in order that they might join the Free French forces of General de Gaulle.

The aim of the evaders was to be able to reach a British consulate or the emba.s.sy in Madrid before they were detected and interned by the Spanish authorities, but they were to discover that it was not simple either to cross the border or to remain anonymous once within Spain. First they had to reach the border in safety. It was not just a case of joining a train in Ma.r.s.eilles and alighting once it had crossed the Spanish frontier. During the summer of 1940 the American authorities had been able to a.s.sist by pa.s.sing word to an American representative in Port Bou, just over the frontier in Spain, giving the likely time of arrival for escaping British soldiers. However, the French authorities soon became aware of the numbers of men attempting to escape into Spain and made sure that thorough checks were made on train pa.s.sengers. As a result it became necessary for men to leave trains a few stops before the border and continue the journey on foot. One group even took a train to Perpignan, then hired a taxi to take them to the Spanish border.

Although routes could be found that avoided French police patrols, the problem was that the border ran along the Pyrenees, forcing men thousands of feet up into the mountains to avoid checkpoints at road crossings. Following cart tracks and rough mountain paths, they trudged for days to cross the mountains. Even in the summer the temperatures dropped as they climbed up the rocky mountainsides. From the dizzy heights of the mountains they could look down to the blue of the Mediterranean to a world of fis.h.i.+ng boats and seaside cottages and wonder how it could be so cold where they were. When the skies were clear, the piercing sun seared their skin, leaving it dry and burnt. Then when the clouds closed in on them they were chilled to the bone in their inadequate clothing. In the upper reaches of the mountain range they could at least find plenty of water as long as they first broke the ice on the rocky pools. Those who engaged the services of local shepherds were guaranteed a journey that took in familiar paths and winter shelters. For the men who travelled alone it was simply a case of going up one side of the mountains and hoping they could find a safe path to descend into Spain.

Yet there were greater dangers than getting lost amid the peaks. Spain was under the government of General Franco, whose victory in the Spanish Civil War had been facilitated with the a.s.sistance of the n.a.z.is, who had used Spain as a testing ground for the same military tactics that had brought Poland and France to their knees. Though neutral, Spain was not guaranteed to give a safe pa.s.sage to soldiers attempting to reach Gibraltar.

Some evaders headed directly to the nearest big city, Barcelona, where they hoped to retain their anonymity in the cosmopolitan crowds of the port. Like Ma.r.s.eilles, Barcelona was another port city famed for having a vast underworld in which fugitives could take refuge. As a city in a neutral country, Barcelona offered another incentive. Upon reaching the British consul, the escaping soldiers were able to acquire civilian doc.u.mentation and continue towards Gibraltar. By December 1941 the consul in Barcelona had a.s.sisted forty-six soldiers from the BEF who had reached his office without being apprehended. Initially these evaders were sent to Madrid by train; however, this practice was stopped after the Spanish authorities began searching trains between the towns. As a result the consul thought it simpler to deliver the men using his own car, which had diplomatic immunity.

Many of those who escaped over the mountains soon encountered patrols of the Civil Guard. Showing a distinct lack of understanding of the situation in Spain, when apprehended, some of the soldiers even asked Spanish policemen to direct them to the nearest British consulate. It did not take long for them to realize such a.s.sistance would not be forthcoming. Taken into custody, the soldiers soon found themselves crammed into the filthy cells of local police stations. Under Spanish law they should have been arrested and committed to court under a warrant of arrest for 'crossing the frontier clandestinely'.16 Those carrying foreign currency could also be charged under regulations prohibiting the importation of currency to Spain. In reality, few were ever actually charged. Between August and November 1940, the British consulate in Barcelona recorded that a total of seventy-three British soldiers had been detained upon entry to Spain. It was reported that a large proportion of them were men who had slipped through the enemy lines at St Valery.

Some arrived in prison to find fellow Britons they knew from Ma.r.s.eilles who had been captured earlier. The threadbare clothing, matted hair and filthy skin of these men soon warned them there was little hope of a swift return home. The cells were seldom big enough to accommodate the ragged gangs of soldiers. The diet was inadequate. One cabbage provided soup for fifty. The cells were unlit and the latrine buckets overflowed. Some were housed in prisons that were already crowded with political prisoners from the Spanish Civil War. One such prison had been constructed to house two hundred men but actually held over a thousand. At the Prison Habilitada Palacio Misiones in Barcelona British prisoners shared the facilities with thousands of Spanish citizens who were opponents of Franco. While held there the British soldiers heard the executions of Spanish prisoners who seemed to have been picked out at random. In another prison it was noted that some Republican prisoners were men who had been wounded during the Civil War, including amputees whose wounds had not yet fully healed.

One good point about Spain was that, despite Franco's victory in the Civil War, the nation's political loyalties were still divided and the country was gripped by an economic malaise that had caused widespread poverty. Thus not only were escaping British soldiers able to count on a measure of a.s.sistance from sympathetic civilians but they could also bribe their way out of trouble. One officer, who found himself and his men held in a gaol where the guards even allowed a wh.o.r.e to ply her trade among the prisoners, was able to bribe a guard to make contact with the British consul.

Eventually many of the interned soldiers were transferred to the concentration camps at Miranda del Ebro and Cervera. Covering eight acres and situated to the south of Bilbao, the camp at Miranda had become notorious following the defeat of the Republican forces in the Civil War. Often arriving with their hands chained together, the incoming prisoners had their heads shaved and were given filthy prison uniforms of rough cotton tunic and trousers. Within the concentration camp the British soldiers discovered men of all nationalities, some left over from the Civil War but most soldiers of Europe's defeated nations who were planning to reach safety to continue their fight against the Germans. There were even a number of German deserters housed within the camp.

The regime was harsh, bordering on vicious. British officers complained of being lashed with thorns, while others recalled beatings with leather thongs and sticks. Inmates were flogged for minor offences and one favoured punishment was to force offenders to march around the camp carrying a stone-filled sack. The British emba.s.sy reported that many inmates, who did not appear to be slacking in their work, required treatment for weals after being attacked by whip-wielding guards. Some inmates were also employed to break stones used for road building, although the British were usually put to work peeling the endless piles of potatoes that were served to them at mealtimes.

At night the men slept in two layers, the first in two lines on the floor and the second on a wooden shelf running along the walls. Blankets were shared one between two and many of the men slept naked to avoid the lice that inhabited their prison uniforms. If a man wished to use the latrines at night he had to remove any clothes and wrap a blanket around himself when he left the hut. When one Scottish sergeant attempted to leave the hut without removing his trousers he was beaten with a rifle-b.u.t.t and kicked repeatedly as he lay on the floor. Each morning the guards arrived with whips to raise the inmates from their beds, striking any man who did not move swiftly enough. Life within the camp soon took its toll on the mental and physical well-being of the inmates. Their bodies became marked with open sores where they had scratched incessantly at insect bites. Some suffered nervous breakdowns, while dysentery and scabies became widespread.

While conditions at Miranda were awful, at least the inmates were able to exercise in the open air. After incarceration in cramped, stuffy cells, simply to be out in the clear mountain air was thought glorious. They might have been surviving on pitifully meagre rations but just to be able to see the sky and taste the crisp air seemed a bonus. Meanwhile the British emba.s.sy was reporting back to London that the men at Miranda were living in conditions a great deal better than in the provincial prisons. They would have found little comfort in the amba.s.sador's words: 'I have no reason to believe British prisoners have been treated any worse than Spaniards. The treatment of any prisoners in Spain is harsh; the Spaniard is naturally insensitive and cruel.'17 At the concentration camp in Cervera conditions were not so oppressive. The food was adequate and each man received a bottle of wine per day. Another bonus was that none of the British prisoners was required to work. The camp commandant stressed to the British consul that the soldiers were only delaying their eventual release by their constant escape attempts, tearing up bedding to make rope ladders. This information was pa.s.sed on to the senior British NCO and he gave his word no further escape attempts would be made.

On 12 September 1940 Lieutenant Hogg, Royal Engineers, sent a telegram from Spain to London: 'Stuck here with five others Emba.s.sy very slow can you help Hotel Peninsula Gerona.'18 Claims that emba.s.sy staff and consuls were slow to a.s.sist the men interned in Spain were refuted by the Foreign Office. Indeed, as it was pointed out, the British officers in the Hotel Peninsula were having all their bills paid directly by the consulate. The amba.s.sador's official line was that there was little they could do to force the Spanish to release the men. Instead they preferred to press for ensuring all interned British soldiers were transferred to Miranda as soon as possible in order to be able to focus relief efforts. The diplomats were well aware of the pressure faced by the Spanish authorities to enter the war on the German side. They also understood that the Germans were putting pressure on Spain not to allow the release of the British internees. This made the situation tricky for the British amba.s.sador.

Rather than putting direct pressure on the Spanish, some thought it better to influence them indirectly. A letter from the vice-consul in Gerona requested that effort be made to publicize the sufferings of the prisoners in Spain. He requested that the emba.s.sy use British and American journalists based in Madrid to raise the subject. He wrote: 'If the public in England got wind of the manner in which British officers and men are being treated . . . there would be a fine s.h.i.+ndy. Their only crime is that, after a 900-kilometre journey, facing every kind of hards.h.i.+p in an effort to get back and continue to fight for their country, they crossed into a neutral land without papers. There they find hards.h.i.+ps equal to those of their long trek, without the stimulation of risk and danger.'19 Eventually, British inmates were released from the squalid h.e.l.l of Miranda. The British military attache in Madrid was able to visit the prisoners and negotiate their release in groups, according to how long they had been interned. However, some soldiers noted how the system for allowing the British to leave Miranda seemed to follow no discernible pattern. Some men left after just a few days while others remained in the concentration camp for weeks. In April 1941 the father of one man held at Miranda wrote to the Foreign Office asking for a.s.sistance. His son had arrived at the camp together with other soldiers with whom he had escaped from France. However, some of those men had already been released and had reached England. Another was in Gibraltar awaiting transport home. Despite their releases, the man's son was still languis.h.i.+ng in the concentration camp.

Those fortunate enough to be released from Spanish camps were taken to Madrid and pa.s.sed into the care of the British emba.s.sy. There they were bathed and fed with light meals, their weakened bodies being unable to cope with anything other than plain food. They were then given new clothes and most were housed in a hotel close by the emba.s.sy. In November 1941 the emba.s.sy reported they had twenty-two evaders actually living within the emba.s.sy. Such was the overcrowding within the building that plans were drawn up for the erection of an extension to be used to house soldiers pa.s.sing through on their way to Gibraltar. From Madrid they were sent by lorry to Gibraltar, sometimes accompanied by other men who had managed to reach the emba.s.sy without being detected by the Spanish and therefore had to be hidden in the lorries for the journey. Once safely in Gibraltar, the soldiers were fully a.s.sessed by military doctors, allowing those in need of further treatment to enter hospital. All were given sulphur baths to kill lice and prevent the spread of scabies. Once fully recovered, the men were able to board s.h.i.+ps and return to the UK to continue the war.

While most of the internees preferred to attempt to reach Gibraltar via Spain, others attempted a more ambitious route, taking advantage of Ma.r.s.eilles' vigorous underworld networks. Through contact with a Hungarian civilian living in Ma.r.s.eilles, two British officers were able to purchase doc.u.ments stating they were Romanians who had been serving as pioneers in the French Army and been demobilized. Using these papers, they were able to travel to North Africa. Upon reaching Casablanca the two men went to the American consulate and were issued with emergency British doc.u.mentation. At the British Club in the city they made contact with civilians who were able to arrange visas for them to travel to Portugal, still using the Romanian ID papers. They later arrived safely in Portugal and were able to return home. One British soldier, Sergeant Wilson of the 13th CCS, had an even longer trip home. Having arrived in North Africa he travelled down the coast, finally arriving in Sierra Leone, where he reported to the first British base he could find.

John Christie also decided to make the trip across the Mediterranean. Having befriended a corporal in the French Foreign Legion, Christie decided he and Arthur would attach themselves to the Legion, which was due to be transferred by s.h.i.+p to North Africa. Wearing borrowed uniforms, the two internees slipped out of the fort and boarded the s.h.i.+p waiting in the harbour. Following a three-day journey, the s.h.i.+p docked in Oran. Christie and his mate joined the legionnaires as they marched from the port, then left the column. Quickly changing into civilian clothes, they made their way to the Polish consul, who helped them to take a train to Casablanca, where they sought the a.s.sistance of the Americans and received a temporary pa.s.sport from the local consulate.

Having taken possession of their pa.s.sports the two men arranged a pa.s.sage on a s.h.i.+p heading to Portugal. Safely at sea, John Christie looked to the horizon and noticed something that soon took his attention: 'We spotted a wisp of smoke . . . Looking back, there wasn't a question in our minds about friend or foe . . . we knew that in this sector Britannia really did rule the waves! . . . The wisp of smoke soon materialized into the shape of a destroyer . . . as it moved round I could see the gun turrets rotate to "keep us in their sights". Next came the launch of their long-boat, crewed by four seamen with an officer in charge.'20 They were swiftly transferred to the destroyer, HMS Kelvin, which then steamed for Gibraltar. The crew of the Kelvin believed the Britons they had picked up were survivors from a merchant s.h.i.+p sunk by a U-boat and were astounded to discover they were actually the last remnants of the BEF. Once on board, Christie received the one thing he had craved for months: 'a cup of piping hot good old British tea!'21 These evaders were not the only soldiers left behind in 1940 who were able to complete the journey home before war's end. As the war progressed, increasing numbers of sick and wounded prisoners of war were finally repatriated to the UK. Under the Geneva Convention both the seriously wounded soldiers and the medical staff who cared for them should have been returned promptly. Article 68 of the convention stated: 'Belligerents shall be required to send back to their own country without regard to rank or numbers, after rendering them in a fit condition for transport, prisoners of war who are seriously ill or wounded.'

Unfortunately, the nature of modern warfare meant that there were lengthy delays and initially the British government found it was difficult enough to negotiate for repatriation with the French authorities, let alone the Germans. In March 1942 the French recorded turning back forty-three British internees due to be repatriated via the border with Spain as retaliation against the British for the bombing of French factories contributing to the German war effort. The War Office responded: 'It is intolerable that the Vichy government should give expression to their annoyance at what they well know to be a legitimate act of war on our part, by inflicting further suffering on those unfortunate men.'22 Later the French changed their reasons, stressing that the refusal to repatriate the wounded Britons was related to the British government's failure to allow some French officers to return home. The Frenchmen, members of Air Mission B, were liaison officers based in London who had earlier been given access to military secrets and, as such, could not be safely returned to France.

Those men badly wounded during the battles in France were possibly the most piteous of all the prisoners of war. Among them were the men who had lost limbs or been blinded, or suffered debilitating stomach wounds. They did not face the prospect of recovering in the comfort of a hospital where they might be visited by their loved ones. Coming to terms with the knowledge that they would never fully recover was burden enough in any circ.u.mstances, but to face treatment by doctors who were pitifully short of supplies only served to deepen their discomfort, both physically and mentally.

The British medical staff desperately needed drugs and bandages, let alone false limbs and crutches. Furthermore, the conditions of imprisonment meant that wounds took longer than normal to heal. Due to the cold, damp, unsanitary conditions existing within many hospital facilities, wounds failed to close properly, continuing to weep or tearing open when they should have been fully closed. Infections were also difficult to prevent in hospitals where hygiene was almost impossible to maintain. If that was not enough, the medics also had to deal with diseases that swept through the ma.s.ses of healthy prisoners who were living in filthy, cramped conditions.

Despite the stipulations of the Geneva Convention, it took three years for the first men to be repatriated. It had also been hoped that some of the more senior POWs would be allowed home. In 1941 a request was sent via the Americans that all prisoners who had also been captives during the Great War should be released. Another request was for the return of all prisoners over the age of forty-eight who had been captive for over eighteen months. Both requests were turned down. However, the subject was raised again in 1943 when Major-General Fortune asked that all 1914-18 POWs be allowed to go home. By this time those in government circles believed that no such move should be made until the seriously wounded had been allowed to come home.

Before any of the wounded soldiers could be repatriated they first had to be a.s.sessed by the Mixed Medical Commission, representatives of the protecting powers whose job it was to identify those men whose wounds were too severe to allow future military service. In some cases, such as blinded soldiers and amputees, it was clear who should go home. Many of these had already been a.s.sessed by the Germans as unfit for service, Dienstunfahig DU or as the patients referred to it 'definitely unfit'. In other cases, such as those with stomach wounds or serious diseases, the rules were less well defined. By December 1941 the Red Cross in Geneva had reported that of the 984 men they had examined 411 were suitable for repatriation.

While waiting for a.s.sessment in the town of Treysa, one group of prisoners were appalled by the treatment given them by the Germans. They complained they were treated as prisoners rather than patients and described the care as 'disgracefully inadequate'.23 Such was the paucity of rations that the British medical staff began to lose weight rapidly and they were forced to take regular rests while attempting to care for the prisoners. Among the sick men anaemia became a serious problem, but the only iron tablets available contained high levels of a.r.s.enic.

The first repatriation should have taken place in 1941. Negotiation commenced between Britain and Germany but they were soon deadlocked. The British requested that a Red Cross s.h.i.+p sail between Britain and either Lisbon or Ma.r.s.eilles. However, the Germans claimed that repatriation by sea was impossible since the waters around Britain were too dangerous for a s.h.i.+p to pa.s.s safely through. They insisted the s.h.i.+ps should go to Canada, with any prisoners too sick to make the crossing instead being sent to Switzerland to be interned while they received further medical care. When these proposals were rejected by the British, the Germans asked whether it would be acceptable for the wounded of both sides to be transferred to neutral countries British POWs heading to Spain and German POWs going to Eire. They would then be free to use Red Cross aircraft to transfer the wounded men to their home countries. This too proved to be unacceptable to the British.

With the negotiations deadlocked, a senior British Army doctor, Colonel W.A. Robertson working at Reserve Lazaret Oberma.s.sfeld requested that all soldiers cleared for repatriation be temporarily admitted to hospitals in Switzerland. Like so many who were aware of the plight of the wounded POWs, he was anxious they should be allowed to receive first-rate medical care in conditions that were not prejudicial to their health. He was not the only one pressing for action. Relatives of the men listed for repatriation were angered by the apparent procrastination of the authorities. As the Foreign Office admitted: 'Some of them even believe that the reason for the delay lies in the fact that the government does not take a sufficiently active interest in them.'24 In September 1941, in antic.i.p.ation of repatriation, groups of badly wounded soldiers were transferred from their hospitals to camps in France. There was little doubt in the minds of many wounded that the journey home had become imperative. One wrote home from Stalag 9C: 'There are many wounded who need special treatment in England, and if they don't get home soon they may be ruined for life.'25 Rumours swept through the men as they realized they were being moved for a purpose. Back in London it seemed the scheme would go ahead and two hospital s.h.i.+ps the Dinard and the St Julien, were earmarked for the transport of the wounded men. It was proposed that the s.h.i.+ps would sail between Newhaven and Fecamp, on the northern French coast. To prevent attack by air both the RAF and the Luftwaffe would be forbidden from coming any closer than ten miles from the two ports and a twenty-mile-wide corridor was to be established across the English Channel. The proposed date for the operation was 4 October 1941.

The prospect of the journey home raised the spirits of the men. One recalled how the first move had been to a camp where he had the freedom to swim in a lake. It was a great relief to enter the cooling waters after the misery of a stalag hospital even if he could only swim using one arm. Yet their hopes were dashed when news came through that repatriation negotiations had fallen through. On 26 September the Germans had suddenly introduced new conditions to the exchange. They would only exchange wounded British prisoners of war for the corresponding number of German prisoners. This was unworkable since there were over 1,000 British wounded soldiers or medical personnel in France awaiting evacuation. However, there were only 150 German soldiers in England who had been cleared for repatriation. To make up the numbers the Germans tried