Gunther Plüschow

Biographical details

Portrait of Gunther Plüschow Gunther Plüschow My Escape from Donington Hall, Preceded by an Account of the Siege of Kiao-Chow in 1915

The English officer was surrounded by a silent crowd of waiting people. Each one’s heart was filled with the burning wish to receive some token, some loving message from home. What joy when one’s hopes were fulfilled, how great the sorrow and disappointment when they were shattered. In the latter case, we always said: “One more day lost.” When, two months afterwards, I was back in Germany, and was asked on many sides what one could do to give pleasure to the prisoners, I always said: “Write, write as much as you can. What the prisoner longs for most are letters.”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Gunther Plüschow Gunther Plüschow My Escape from Donington Hall, Preceded by an Account of the Siege of Kiao-Chow in 1915

That evening I went to a music-hall, with the firm intention of blowing my last pound, and then staking everything on one card, and try to get to the docks and hide there on a neutral steamer. And if this plan miscarried—as it had with Trefftz—I decided to give myself up to the police.
I stood in the upper gallery of the biggest music-hall in London and watched the performance. An inner voice whispered to me: “Your place is at Gravesend, working for your escape. Your duty is to throw off this slackness, otherwise you are not worthy to be a German sailor!”
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Gunther Plüschow Gunther Plüschow My Escape from Donington Hall, Preceded by an Account of the Siege of Kiao-Chow in 1915

At midday the bombardment ceased at last, the enemy being justified by that time in assuming that the fort was destroyed and all its inmates killed.
The staff of the Coast-commander at once hurried to Fort Hu-Chuin-Huk; and I also followed in my motor-car.
Still under the impression of the terrible spectacle of the bombardment, we were most surprised on our arrival to see the whole garrison merrily tearing round, collecting splinters and admiring the huge craters which the enemy shells had dug in the ground.
What luck! Not a man wounded, not a gun injured, not a hit on the bomb-proof rooms!
Source: Gutenberg

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