Dachau to Dolomites. Tom Wall
to the fore. Bessonov gave lectures in which he critiqued the Soviet Union and expounded on his formula for a constitutional framework for a ‘free’ Russia. Rather surprisingly, these were attended by Harry Day and John Dodge, with Peter Churchill translating Bessonov’s poor German. Dodge was acquainted with the Soviet Union, having been arrested by the Cheka – forerunners of the NKVD – and detained for a week in December 1921 on suspicion of using a trade visit as cover for spying,44 an experience that must have contributed to his subsequent staunch anti-Communism.
A large wall map was fashioned from several sheets of paper on which Cushing regularly marked up the progress of the war, based on information gleaned from newspapers and radio broadcasts. An outdoor running track was marked out and a long jump pit was dug. A ball was made from rags and paper for netball games. Such exercises allowed the inmates to become fit and bronzed over the summer months.45 None of this could compensate for isolation from family. No communication was permitted with the outside world. They could not write or receive letters from home. They were all Nacht und Nebel (‘Night and Fog’) prisoners. Not knowing if their parents were alive or dead, how wives or children were fairing, and knowing that their families were left to wonder if they were alive or dead all contributed to bouts of depression. This was more problematic for the older prisoners like Day and Dodge, both of whom were married with children. For Day, there was the added difficulty of knowing from earlier letters that his marriage was in difficulty. Depression and mental breakdown were common in the POW camps46 and Day himself had a breakdown while in Sagan in 1941.47 The Irish orderly, O’Brien, is rarely mentioned in memoirs, leaving the impression that he had withdrawn into himself after his arrest and interrogation in Berlin.
There were frequent reminders of the contrast between the relative benign conditions enjoyed by the Sonderlager inmates and the privations endured by ordinary Sachsenhausen camp prisoners. Once a week the group were escorted to the main compound of the camp for a shower, which involved them passing a large Appell Platz (‘roll call square’) with its ominous gallows. Here they could see half-starved figures in their striped camp uniforms being marched continuously around the square carrying heavy backpacks loaded with stones. The purpose of the exercise was to test new designs for army boots.48 The marches were continued to the point of the collapse of the prisoners or the footwear. Suicides within the main camp were common. Often during the night the special prisoners would be awoken by machine-gun fire, an indication that some poor soul was suffering the same suicidal fate as Yakov Dzhugashvili. During the day, smoke from the crematorium was a constant reminder of the murderous nature of the camp.49
They had been told on entering Sachsenhausen that there was no possibility of escape. The trustee’s they encountered told them the only way out was via the crematorium chimney. Such warnings only spurred on the serial escapers; they had attempted numerous escapes prior to the mass breakout from Stalag Luft III and they were spoiling to attempt another. They had to try to escape again, it was their duty to attempt to they told themselves. And it served another purpose, it relieved the boredom of captivity and allowed them to dream of an early homecoming.
CHAPTER FIVE
BREAKOUT
23 September 1944
Dowse and James emerged from the tunnel into the wet night, about four feet outside the perimeter wall of the camp. To their relief there was no sound except the pounding rain in the darkness. The two of them had spent months digging the narrow tunnel which was just big enough to crawl through, and their slim frames and their familiarity with it allowed them to get out without too much difficulty. They were followed by Harry Day, for whom it was an ordeal; his knee was swollen and causing great pain. Jack Churchill’s was the next head to emerge. His stocky frame got him stuck in the exit hole for a time and he had to be pulled free by the others. With Dodge, the last to appear, the situation proved near impossible. His lanky, gangly physique made his passage through the tunnel extremely difficult and slow. When he eventually reached the exit hole and tried to squeeze through, he got completely stuck. He could only manage to get his head and one arm partially out. It took ten minutes of strenuous pulling before the others could drag him free. Raising his dishevelled frame into a standing position he blurted out ‘Ah! Free at Last!’ to the alarm of the others who threw themselves to the ground expecting a burst of machine-gun fire from the guard towers.1 Fortunately, due to the heavy rain, the guards didn’t see or hear anything. The inveterate escapees were about to make another dash for freedom.
Sydney Dowse and Bertram James had started to plan the escape in the early summer of 1944. Preliminary work had begun on a tunnel, but it needed the approval of Harry Day as the senior officer, and he was slow to give it.2 This was untypical of Day who had taken a leading role in five escape attempts in his previous camps. He hesitated because he was concerned about the trustworthiness of some of their co-inhabitants in the Sonderlager. He wasn’t sure he could trust the Russian Bessonov, or the Irish orderlies, especially Spence. News of the Normandy landings in June complicated matters further. Would it be best to wait for liberation rather than risk death in a further, almost certainly futile escape attempt? As senior officer, Day bore a weighty responsibility for the lives of the younger men, especially after news of the murder of their fellow escapers from Stalag Luft III. It was only after an angry confrontation with the Camp Commandant that he finally made up his mind and sanctioned the escape attempt.
Dowse had been the cause of the row. Left alone in the compound while the others were taking their weekly shower, he took it upon himself to reverse all the skull and crossbones signs, the death’s head symbol of the SS-Totenkopfverbände, the unit responsible for the concentration camp security, so that they all faced away from the prisoners. Dowse may have seen this as a mere prank, but it was a foolhardy act and one that he could have paid for with his life. When the guard on duty, known as ‘Jim’, realised what Dowse had done he was livid, not just because Dowse had tampered with the macabre insignia of his unit, but out of fear for his own future for allowing it to occur on his watch. A shouting match ensued, with Dowse giving as good as he got. When Day returned to the compound he managed to calm things, but he was shortly afterwards summoned to see Kaindl, the Camp Commandant. He proceeded to admonish Day for Dowse’s action, warning that severe action would be taken if anything of this nature happened again. Relations between the English officer and the Austrian SS Commander were already strained. Kaindl, knowing the reputation of the RAF group, considered them a liability and likely to make more trouble for him. Day had previously enjoyed a friendly relationship with the commander of his earlier place of confinement in Dulag Luft, Major Theodor Rumpel of the Luftwaffe. There the prisoners were allowed to go on long country walks on condition of parole, meaning that they gave their word not to use the privilege to escape. Rumpel even invited Day and some of the other senior officers to dine in his house on occasions. Kaindl’s attitude was in stark contrast and Day disliked him intensely. In the confrontation over Dowse’s actions, Day considered that he was being treated with contempt.3 He returned in high dudgeon to the Sonderlager where he immediately sanctioned work on the tunnel. He had reverted to his long-held view that the war remained to be won and that it was their duty to contribute by attempting to escape.
It was decided that the project would be known to as few people as possible. The two Italian orderlies who acted as batmen in the British Officers’ quarters would have to be trusted, but the officers decided not to confide in the Russians, or in the four Irish who shared accommodation with them. However, Andy Walsh possessed information that might allow some of them to make good their escape from Germany. Walsh, who Day considered to be the most balanced of the four, not much of a compliment, had spoken about his friendship with a German named Hans Fullert whom he had met during his Abwehr training days in Berlin in 1941.4 From something that was said to him, Walsh came to the conclusion that Fullert had anti-Nazi leanings. He lived in the eastern Berlin suburb of Mahlsdorf and was employed by the giant Todt organisation that provided logistical support to the military. His work involved him driving a truck loaded with equipment and supplies to German fortifications in northern France and he often brought back goods for sale on the black-market.5 Walsh said that Fullert had offered to take him to France anytime he wanted.6 Day hoped that he might be prepared to repeat this offer to one or more of the escapers if they could make their way to Berlin. This would allow them to make their way to France where they could make contact with the Resistance