Shot Down and the Long Walk Back (part 4)

Back to the 'WALK'.

The second or third night we rested. - REST was not the right word, it was usually a case of fall down and either have ANOTHER mouthful of snow and then suck a lump of ice. This particular nights 'rest', one guide went off and returned some time later with half a dozen bananas and about four sausage shaped bread rolls.!! This was shared between us all. Thirteen in all including the two guides. The eldest guide had been caught out a few years ago had had lost his toes on one foot through frostbite. Which is why he had such a terrible limp. There never seemed to be time to talk to each other, it was a case of fall down where you stopped and fall asleep or eat another mouthful of snow. I was practically the only one who had talked to the guides. My French improved during my stay in Paris. Not having anyone speaking English had helped. The English woman at the farm had been the only one I could really have a conversation with.
After what seemed YEARS, we were told to collect firewood and we lit a massive bonfire. It was as good as CHRISTMAS. It lit up all around us. We then all laid down and slept for what seemed hours. On waking-up it was mid-morning. The guides told us to rest there until they returned. From what they said we would be making for a friendly farmhouse the next night.
The day wore on and NO SIGN of the guides. There was a huge sigh of relief when they finally appeared. Another night was spent around the fire. It was lovely such luxury!!. If it wasn't for the hunger pangs we could have been in heaven! At this time several of the Americans were suffering with bad frost bitten feet and toes. My feet had bad pains, but not wishing to remove the remains of my cut-down flying boots, I did not inspect my feet. Simply because I had got to the point of NOT caring very much. There were hardly any soles left and I had huge blisters - plus a couple of nasty looking patches on the feet!. There were obviously frozen and that meant I couldn't feel much anyway. GOOD NEWS, we were to go down the mountain and get further into SPAIN. This is why we had a fire, it didn't matter who saw us anymore!!
It was early morning when we moved off. The sun was lovely and we still walked in single file. Only then did we realise that Pierre was missing. Being a civilian he knew he would be on his own and so had gone. We never saw him again!. When it got dark we hid up in a sort of bamboo plantation. It was very damp ground. We didn't mind as we thought we would only be there for an hour. The guides had gone ahead to check everything was alright for us to go to the farmhouse. They were very late returning. It was bad news. What's more!!, he said we must be VERY QUIET as the Military Police(Spanish) were ambushing us!. Someone had tipped them off about us arriving. This meant we had another night out in the wet hard ground. After all night creeping about for miles and miles. Finally, we arrived about mid-afternoon at another small farm house. This, of course, was Spanish. The man and his wife were most friendly, even though they had only known that such a crowd of us were to arrive within an hour or so. they produced a huge pot of steaming something or other!. On investigating we found that it was some sort of meat and gravy, (I like a good stew). Potatoes were also served to us. We were surprised to find that the meat was a small bird. Being so hungry and starving really, we did not care what it was. We simply shoveled it down.

I had had only a small piece of meat and potato, when without warning it all came back up and I had a terrible time trying to apologise to the farmer and his wife. They were so good and reassured me that everything was alright. It turned out that it was quite common for someone like me who had not eaten properly for a long time. The stomach just couldn’t take it.
The next thing was sleep. We made our way up to the loft. Couldn’t really say it was a room. There a bed of clean straw was made to take all ten of us. We had about three blankets between us. They never was such an unholy bunch as us. During this rest, it was found that besides myself one other person had really bad frost bitten feet. They were black in colour and the smell of rotten flesh was terrible. I had been lucky, only a couple of almost black big toes. They were rather painful and I found later it was bad having to walk any lengthy distance.

I think it was after two nights we had a visit from a rather smartly dressed man. He said he was from the Consulate in Barcelona and that he would be back with some clean clothes etc. When he arrived, he had kept his word. There is NO WAY that we could be mistaken for Ex-Airmen. More than likely we would have been arrested as a band of robbers!. This reminds me, we were told that had our guides not been so wary of the first farmhouse we would all have been put in prison OR shot and left where we were. Apparently some nasty person had given the Military the tip-off that we were to be there that night. For your information there were two lots of police, MILITARY and CIVILIAN. The first could not be bribed!. They had a very nasty reputation when people like us were involved. The Civil police were able to be bribed and were not so brutal in their methods!.
We were now told that we must take a train ride. What we DIDNT know was that it was a case of - wait in the shadows and when the train came slowly by - JUMP and hang on for dear life. Finishing up by several sitting astride the buffers. Finally we dropped off in a country area. There was a short rest and off we set, walking again. At last we reached a station, where to our great delight there stood the man who had brought us our change of clothes. He said that he had tickets and from then on we were reasonably safe. DO NOT TALK TOO MUCH, and keep a low profile he said. Then a little later he said we must follow him, in small groups of two or less, keeping on the opposite side of the road to him. When he made a big show of wiping his nose we were to dash into the doorway where he stood. However, he made it clear we must rush straight up the stairs there - meaning that, until we were actually on the first floor of the building we could still be arrested! The moment came and we all seemed to dash at the same time. Up those stairs we shot. There stood a typically dressed Englishmen who greeted us with a smile and said 'Welcome'.
We were given some Cadbury's chocolate and told to have a good wash and shower. Then came a chap to give us a nice shave and another to give us haircuts. There was also a beautiful face massage given to us. It seemed to take away a lot of the tensions in our faces.
We were taken to a hotel and told we could have a wander about. DO NOT GET INTO TROUBLE was the warning. Some money was given to us.(later stopped out of our back-pay!!) We had a little wander and finished up in a night club bar. When it got darker we went out to see the lights. It was such a weird experience seeing street lights and those 'moving strip lights' all shining brightly. I can't remember how many nights we stayed in Barcelona. Next we were on a train journey to Madrid. We spent two or three days there and were able to get tickets to a bull fight. Without realising it we were being followed by a man from the Embassy. Just as well, it turned out. The Spanish National Anthem was played which we of course didn't know and therefore didn't stand up. Some people got angry. The Embassy man told us to stand up immediately. We did so and all was forgotten, as the first huge bull entered the ring.

The time arrived to leave for Gibraltar. By now I was trying to contain myself with thoughts of getting back to Britain. Apart from being in a bad way we were all cheered up by the fact we were to be with our own people.
It was a long train ride from Madrid to Algerciras. This was the border crossing into British territory. We got on a small lorry for the ride through the Customs Post. A sour looking Policeman armed with a gun (they all had guns) made us get out and stand in a line. Then they carried out a complete search of the lorry, including unrolling the canvas window-blinds. AT LAST, we were allowed to walk slowly through to the other side. To my amazement there stood a British Bobby. I was so shocked to see him that I tried to speak French. "Are you really British/" I asked him. YUS MATE he replied. I then asked if I was truly on British soil. I then kneeled down and kissed the ground. I had NEVER thought that I would ever be back on British soil again.
Finally at the RAF camp I was given a bunk to sleep in and told I would be called for a meal, early evening. I really do not remember too much about the next 24 hours. There was a kick about football match going on outside my window and the sun was shining. It was so lovely and warm!. I strolled over to watch and suddenly realised they were playing on a sort of gravel pitch. It was amazing that I did not even think of such small things.
I later discovered that I was alone in my hut. This proved handy as I started having BAD dreams, waking up and running around a lot. This would have disturbed anyone else.
Next evening I had an interview with the Station Commander. He told me I was to be flown home in a Sunderland Flying Boat which was due in a couple of hours from South Africa. The time went by and no call from the office. I finally got word that it was overdue and may have been shot down en route. Something that had happened several times before. I since learned that they were an easy target for the German long-range aircraft, as they weren’t really fast enough to out fly them!.
As I returned to my bunk the tannoy system called me to report to the guard room. It was a message for me to attend at the Hotel where they were billeting Americans. I went by jeep and as I entered I was greeted by lots of cheering. They made a fuss of me and we all had a great meal and some drinks.
Next day early, the tannoy again called me to the office. There was a plane ride to Britain and I was to be on it. I was rushed to the airport in a jeep right up to the plane. It was a Dakota. I was told to stand by the door and wait. An officer climbed in the plane and there was a lot of shouting. I then saw an Army Officer being helped off the plane. He made no move to hurry and was obviously being hustled off the aircraft. He was whisked away and I was ordered on to the plane. Keeping my kit bag with me at all times. When we landed in England I was rushed to London, by train. I was told London wanted to interrogate me immediately. It turned out they had dubbed me 'VIP' for the plane ride from Gibraltar!
From the intensive 'going over' I got at the Air Ministry, they thought it was worthwhile getting me there quickly. Next came the quick medical examination, 'FIT A1' the usual thing for those they wanted to get rid of quickly.
I was given a railway pass for travel to Tunbridge Wells. The condition was to be back in London by 10.30 next day! On arrival at the Yew Tree Road bus stop I found a reaction had set in and I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. I half walked and half crawled to the door of Number 9 where Mary lived!!
HOME AT LAST!!! It was now 21st March 1944.

The Air Ministry in London told me that they reckoned I had traveled roughly 200 miles during my first 10 days/nights - before I was too exhausted to go on!!
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REFERRING BACK:

Page 6. You will have read that I stayed for quite a few days at a farm with a young English lady and her baby son. While there I was able to get out into the fresh air and wandered around the area, well away from the farm. During these wanders I found that there was a German Tank Training Camp close by. I used to lay-up in a good hiding spot, so as to watch their maneuvers. I did not realise at the time what I was seeing! However, when being de-briefed in London on my return, I discovered it was quite a big place for the German Training schemes. THIS! (Mary says) is why I was awarded the OAK LEAF and also the AWARD PLAQUE, for being mentioned in dispatches. YOU SEE, shortly after my happy return to this country, the newspapers carried the story of the terrific bombing of the CAMP DE MAILLE TANK ESTABLISHMENT!

One other episode I remembered was when in Paris, hiding in a flat ALL DAY LONG I got to the point of standing at the side of the window, peering through the curtains. This was so I did not have to move the curtains in order to see out into the street. This particular time, I was watching when there was a sudden commotion. I peered out and a little way down the street I saw the Gestapo with about a dozen soldiers had raided a flat and had been trying to get a woman to talk. Later, from talking to those who visited me, I found out that they had been tipped-off by a traitor. The most terrible thing was that I saw them holding her baby by it's feet, right out over the street. I could just catch some of her screams as they threw the baby into the street from FOUR floors up!!. You can now understand my reasons for not liking those who joined the NAZIS.

On a happy theme! When we went around on the Metro, the THING to do was to stand on the Germans toes when the train rocked past, THEN apologise profusely!! Another thing to do was to find amongst the passengers, a couple of German Officers (not difficult - usually lots of glittery brass decorations) THEN deliberately 'pick your nose' It was hilarious!! They just didn't want to know they couldn' t get away fast enough.
There are several other tales which I don't completely remember at this time, so this will have to do for now.

AS MY FRENCHMAN PIERRE WOULD SAY :
“GOODBYE!, AND IF I DONT SEE YOU SOME MORE, HELLO!!"

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