Prison Break - True Stories of the World's Greatest Escapes. Paul Buck
raised. Perhaps one cannot ask for more. Perhaps this is what I want for the reader.
Here you will find escapes that begin in the cell, the showers, the laundry, the mailroom, the yard. Here you will discover those who go over the wall, under the wall, through the gate. Here you will see helicopters at work, or transit vehicles brought to a halt. Here you will find the planned escape, as well as the opportune escape. And you will witness the escape of the loner who does not require the involvement of others – or that of the escapee who requires help from fellow inmates, or from an insider, like a corrupt officer providing tools or weapons. Or from the friends and relatives who smuggle in requested items, or provide getaway cars.
Any notion of strict categorisation does not work, for the encyclopaedic method hinders readability. One slight regret is that I had to cut back for the sake of length, to take away some of the details of the planning, the frustration, the perseverance noted by the escapees themselves, even if the sheer number of cases does convey a further dimension. It has not been my job to plot every move until recapture … or, indeed, the lives afterwards of those who are not recaptured.
One of the remarkable factors to emerge time and time again is the amount of care, attention and energy given to an escape, only to see it fizzle into a sketchy series of possibilities once the escapee gets his leg over the wall. Not everyone has plans, beyond the plan to get away. They may not know where they will hide, where they will run to, or how they will continue to stay out. Some, as noted, are really only going out for a short break, perhaps only intending to see their families, knowing they will be quickly recaptured. Some have money available from their crimes to flee abroad, for there are still countries where no extradition treaties are fully operational. For many years it was the Spanish coastline, the ‘Costa del Crime’, although that is not officially the case today. But extradition has not been retrospectively applied, and it is still a popular residence for escapees – probably because they can blend in more easily amongst the world of former criminals, as well as the general British contingent of ex-pats.
The use of the masculine ‘he’ is quite noticeable too, for all but a few escapes are by men. This is no gender bias on my part. I have included the few women I unearthed, though I could probably have found others. However, the intent was not to excavate for the sake of it, but rather to demonstrate the breadth and the resourcefulness of the escapees. Whilst I focus on some because of their distinctive aspects, I offer others to provide context. Likewise, whilst this study draws from a wealth of British cases, I give some perspective on other escapes from all around Europe and the rest of the world.
And whilst I didn’t want to delve through history in any great depth, I felt that a handful of comparisons from the past would add another dimension. To escape today, in a practical sense, is very different from escaping thirty years ago – let alone three hundred years ago, even if, on another level, it is still the spirit of Man that is making that bid for freedom.
This is not an endless list of escapes all subjected to the same degree of analysis. What I wanted was to show the sheer bravado, the courage, the daring, that comprises the strength of the human spirit, which is to be cherished. And yes, I am aware that there are escapes that have led to further murders – indeed, I was horrified by some of the events as I read through them. But it is the spirit of Man that I am celebrating, through all his triumphs and adversities, without which mankind may well not survive.
I have refrained from getting too technical by categorising prisoners as A, B, C … or the varying levels of risk classification, as ‘standard escape risk’, ‘high escape risk’ or ‘exceptional escape risk’, as these have changed over the years and across the different countries. In general, those who feature are prisoners who have escaped before and have the ‘escape risk’ label attached to their name, if not to their prison apparel. The term ‘E-list’ – ‘escape-list’ in UK Home Office terminology – is not intended as a restricting or defining term, as the ground covered goes way back before such official terminology was employed. However, these are all people who would have been on an ‘E-list’, people who made it their aim, or in some cases claimed it was their duty, to escape.
Though I am drawing on many angles for my information, the viewpoint that interests me the most has to come from those who have experienced escaping from prison. Whether their crimes are seen as horrendous, or more mainstream (albeit perhaps major); whether we have admired them for it, or been aghast at their further offences. But, at the end of the day, we, as readers, were not there, did not experience the fear and violence that stemmed from some of these men’s actions. As Tommy Wisbey’s daughter, Marilyn, notes in her autobiography, it’s very romantic to read about them, but if you are in the midst of a robbery, whether being committed with guns or coshes, you never know if those weapons are going to be used.
This may come across as an intense book, because I’ve tried to trim away some of the frills; yet, at the same time, I wanted to preserve some of the character of those involved. There are no rules as to what I left in and what I took out. My desire was to keep you reading, to view the tragedies along with the humorous aspects, to add probable annoyance as well as offering possible justification.
But I did want to lean toward the side of the escapee, though not for any moralising purpose. Most criminals are not proud of being criminals. Some had a raw deal. Most knew what they were doing. That is not my concern. I wanted to give their stories because they were the ones locked in a cell for years on end. Many gave every waking hour, unless distracted, to focusing on escape.
We may pass comment on the neighbour who locks their dog in a kitchen whilst they go to work. We might empathise with the poor beast whining away. And yet we don’t want to give much thought to the human being who is locked away, and who does not make much noise … or, if he does, we find ourselves unsympathetic. But if you condemn this man, then you condemn part of your own spirit.
The idea of escaping, or absconding, from prison – or indeed any form of custody, like transport vans, police stations, law courts – has been etched into our psyche in modern times by television and cinema, often making the event more spectacular, more thrilling, perhaps somewhat romantic. All the heroes are rugged and handsome, and it is probably no good for the real men in our prisons, who we cannot see – the gangsters, criminals, ‘villains’, hardmen – to be confused with film fantasies. For once they are out of prison, whether by escape or official release, they face the agonising temptation to continue as a recidivist rather than seek legitimate employment.
Walter Probyn turned away from the limelight. He may well recognise that he has become a famed escapee, but he says he was not a competent criminal and shouldn’t be emulated. Unlike many others, Probyn wished his talents could have been developed and put to better use.
Bruce Reynolds (not an escapee himself, unlike some of his fellow Great Train Robbers) has a different perspective: “Perhaps it was like what happens when a footballer or mountaineer comes to the end of their career. They live their entire life on the edge, but what happens when it’s all over, when you have to stop? It was very hard for … us when we quit. When we came out of jail we were old men, and too well known. We knew we had to stop for our families’ sake. But you never stop missing the buzz.” (My emphasis.)
Today’s prisoners are faced with more sophisticated technology to prevent their escape. Everyone knows it will be more difficult. But then, at least one of the escapes in this book occurred less than six months ago as I write. If there is a weakness in the system, then the prisoner who is fixed on escaping, who is watching and scheming, will take advantage of it.
And the greatest weakness will always be the human element, the guards and officials who go about their job in a routine way and who slacken at their peril. Equipment might become faulty, a camera may go on the blink, but it is invariably the guard who just pops off to the toilet, who falls asleep, who engages in convivial conversation and is lulled into a false sense of security, who recurs repeatedly throughout these cases. The people who are employed as guards are hardly likely to be among the brightest, and the probability is that some of the prisoners are of substantially higher intelligence. Television programmes feed us a diet of crime fiction where video cameras are properly maintained and operated, which does not equate with reality. Talk to people who live near a prison and they