Summary

Gerald Featherstone Knight "Brother Bosch", an Airman's Escape from Germany

Evidence that the cereal crop had been carted quite recently was plentiful, for there was short, fresh stubble, cart tracks, and the impression of horses’ hoofs. This pointed to the encouraging fact that I was not on an island, horses and carts not usually being transported by barge or aeroplane. I had not followed the tracks for more than fifty yards when they turned straight towards the water. The next minute I barely stifled a yell of delight, for there, staring me in the face, was a sort of pontoon bridge, stretching away into the darkness.
Source: Gutenberg

Gerald Featherstone Knight "Brother Bosch", an Airman's Escape from Germany

Arriving at a little station called Ströhen, which seemed to be on a large moor, we got out and started for the camp, the German officer bringing up the rear in a victoria. After ten minutes’ walking down a lonely road we made out a group of low wooden huts surrounded by high arc lamps and wire, on a desolate moorland. Surely this could not be our destination, the good camp we had been led to expect.
But after inquiring our guards told us it was, although they were nearly as much surprised at its appearance as we were. At all events we were determined to hide our feelings and look cheery.
Source: Gutenberg

Gerald Featherstone Knight "Brother Bosch", an Airman's Escape from Germany

Whenever there was a wind we enjoyed a whirling sandstorm. Often I have seen it so thick as to temporarily obscure the further camp buildings. If we had only been allowed camels and facilities for exercising, we should soon have looked upon a journey across the Sahara as mere child’s play. After a victory (real or imaginary) , or an anniversary, it was with very rebellious feelings that we watched the German flag fluttering in the breezes.
Source: Gutenberg

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