When I look back at that first trek, I come to the conclusion that fortune favoured us for once. I don’t think we ever made a false step, which was luck indeed. We walked hard till about 3 a.m., and then found ourselves approaching a main road, with what appeared to be two big villages situated not more than half a mile apart. A scout went forward to investigate, but came back scared and excited. Moving lights appeared first here and there; sometimes red flashes came and went. We immediately decided that we had been surrounded, only to find on closer investigation that the lights belonged to a single-track railway, which ran in a semicircle around us. On crossing the railroad and railtrack beyond, we began to realise for the first time that dawn was rapidly approaching. Lights began to spring up in the large village to our left, so that we were immediately forced to look for a place where we could safely hide during the coming daytime. This proved to be no easy job, and before we were finally settled it was very nearly broad daylight.
Unfortunately, not being of a literary turn of mind, I am unable to write a thrilling account of our adventurous journey across Germany. At the same time, where in my description I make such a statement as “We now made our way across country without interruption for four hours,” the reader must not imagine that we just rushed along without encountering difficulties, for the way was always beset with some sort of obstacle or other. Needless to say, we gave ourselves a great many unnecessary scares; but in our highly strung condition, with all our senses working at fever-heat, this was not to be wondered at.
The uncertain moonlight played tricks with our imaginations, everything assuming gigantic proportions. All the forces of nature seemed to be arrayed against us and to walk hand in hand with the enemy. If a slight wind rustled the leaves of a solitary tree to our rear, we felt we were discovered and followed, and must press on, only to fall on our stomachs again after a few hundred yards, as there was something standing in front and waiting for us, inevitable, grim, and silent. “Look! he has moved; it’s a sentry! Did you notice the light shining on his bayonet?” and so we would creep away to right and left, only to find that our grim sentry was a large post marking some boundary, and the apparent flash of the bayonet had probably been caused by the rays of the moon suddenly appearing from behind a cloud and striking one of its white painted sides.