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 and, through them, allied forces. Walsh had disclosed information about Fullert in general conversation and was later questioned on the details by Day. The address was obtained without the purpose being disclosed, but it can be assumed Walsh would have guessed what was afoot, knowing Day’s reputation. Besides, he and Cushing would have had a good idea that a tunnel was under construction for, as Peter Churchill observed, the Irish boys were ‘as bright as they make them and always first to sense the least thing wrong in the camp’.7
Given that Walsh and Cushing probably knew, or at least suspected, that an escape plan was being hatched, the fact that they kept this knowledge to themselves tells us that Cushing, who had been an informer in Friesack, was no longer playing that role. He, and the other Irishmen, now needed to focus on their standing within their own soon-to-be victorious army. Cushing and Walsh may have been offended by being kept out of the loop, but keeping quiet was in their best interests. If the tunnel was somehow discovered, suspicion was likely to fall on them if they were known to be aware of it.
The tunnel began under James’s bed. The digging work was assigned to the younger men – Dowse and James – with Jack Churchill joining them after his arrival in the Sonderlager. To begin with, their only digging tool was an adapted table knife, although this was later supplemented by a small saw secured from a guard, possibly through bribery.8 Tactically, it was wise not to involve Day in the tunnelling work as his absence for long periods would be noticed. The soil was sandy which made things easier, but increased the risk of collapse. The floor of their timber hut was raised above the ground with an outside skirt which proved perfect for secretly disposing of the excavated soil. While the tunnel was underway, they heard news that seven Russian POWs from the main concentration camp had been hung after an attempted escape. This shocked, but didn’t deter, them.
One difficulty they had was calculating how far they would need to burrow to reach a safe distance beyond the perimeter of the camp. For this they needed to see over the wall of their compound. Day had a brainwave. He asked the camp authorities to provide them with a gymnastic pommel horse to aid their athletic recreation. To everyone’s surprise, the apparatus was delivered. Standing on the horse, while making it seem like an exercise routine, they could see the layout beyond their compound which bordered the outer perimeter of the camp. They noticed that, behind the wall beyond
