other hand Doug Collins is on holiday and the North Shore News is running extracts from bis cook P.O.W, A Soldier's Story Of His Ten Escapes from Nazi Prison Camps. This episode picks up the story from where he and Dick Parker, his friend of the first escape, had been returned to Stalag VIIIB. This describes the second escape, in which Doug and two companions were aiming for Russia. INTO the punishment compound, which is for escapers who have not escaped, for men who have lipped the Germans or otherwise refused to work, or for anyone who has fallen foul of a guard. . Here one waits to do a stretch in solitary, and the inmates swap stories, pick lice, and dream. The weeks passed. Dick was a sadder sight than cver. He peered unhappily through his broken glasses. His lame arm troubled him. He coughed, and would sit on his bunk dribbling saliva. He became morose, 2 condition that started when we did our two weeks on bread and water and it did not change when we went back to the main camp. “I think PH wait till spring,” he said one day. “Then I might have another 0.” “I'd like to try before thar. D'you mind if go with someone else?” “Of course not.” Our liaison was over. I was young and secretly impatient Our Wa with his ills even though f, ton, was sick. So when Dick let me go | felt guilty bur glad. That same week he was moved fo another compound. Ve shook hands and wished each other luck for the next time. But for Dick there would be no next time. His health became worse and I heard later that he died in the cruel winter of 1940-41. 1 never saw him again bur in the mind’s eye I see him now, a brave and lonely figure in incongruous clothes, pushing, his rub of earth on the Adolf Hitler Canal and dreaming of home. ogoag Tony Hopkins and “Tommo” Thomas were Welshmen. Tony was of my um height, strongly builc, and very tough. His eves were a hard blue. Deep, curving lines ran from the nostrils to the edges of the mouth, and ina place where fights were more frequent than laughs his face warned the foolish to stay clear. He was a private in the South Wales Borderers and had served seven years in the regulars. On his left arm a tattoo carried the words “Death before Dishonour.” His friend Tommo was a guardsman but no one would have guessed it. Mild brown eyes peered from beneath a French kepi that made its wearer look like a foreign tman. Tommo was tall ut, in conscious protest against guards’ discipline kept his hands i in his pockets and sported an unmilitary stoop. He detested his brigade almost as much as he detested being in Germany. “IT must have been out of my mind to join that bloody Prussian lot,” he would say in his lilting Welsh tones, The three of us met in the punishment compound and teamed up. Later, all inno- cence, we presented ourselves to the Germans and said we wanted to dig coal in order to et act the oft-promised better cod. Even Tony managed to look i ingratiating and so, in i SPECIAL, RAI TRAIL-A-BIKE KIDS oN Ate ATTACHMENT... Convert your regular mountain bike into a tandem for a chiid ~* + 20" wheel with freewheel * Easy attachment to any bike * Adjustable saddle and handlebar position for growing kids * Fits riders 2 to 10 years old REG. $340 y to freedc October 1941, we arrived at Hindenburg (a coal mining area in a). We were given surface jobs at first. ] worked in a metal shop run by a Polish civilian called Vladimir and held things for him while he looked about conspiratorially and gave che news, which according to him was always good news. Fifty German bombers brought down last night over Britain! British fleet in command of the seas! A new front in North Africa! You will sce, comrade. Hitler y asked him tor a steel file. He produced a box- ful. “Take your pick, com- rade.” When underground work began, the connection with Viadimir came to an end. But the file was a vital addition to our armory of escape. Also, we now had miners’ boots, overalls, and military over- coats that were dyed black. if we could get away it would be possible to walk down a street without attracting too much attention. Our moment came on the night of Saturday, Nov. 16- 17. We drew lots to deter- mine the order of our going and first place fell to me. Tony would be second and Tommo third. The bars on the window had been filed through and filled with dirt. Now they were forced up until they reached the ceiling like ribs. Ourside, a steep hill, almost hear enough to touch, reared clifflike against the sky. There was no moon, but are lamps set a wide glow over the whiteness of new snow, Two men lifted my legs and I squeezed myself the gap of the window, Was no room to Manocuvre and I went through head first, hands reaching for the ground. My toes found the ledge and for a moment } hung there like 2 dressed duck. I wriggled free and tum- bled quietly to terra firma Tony and Tommo came through and the packs were handed out. We set off quick- ly up the sharp slope and soon the camp lay below us. The night was a mass of impediment. Soggy terrain, buildings, railroad cuttings, and blind alleys. But ar last We were on a road on which our tracks would not show, and by dawn were in a dense wood, We stayed there all day. At dusk we marched due cast. The wind was as hard as the ground and it became colder. We began thinking of the warm coal mine. “Hot toddies when we get home,” grinned Tony. Four days’ march brought us to our knees. 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