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Authors: John McCallum
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trees and the camp lights came into view.
Moonlit nights were also a problem as it could be too bright, and the combination of moonlight and snow made it impossible to go out. The best nights for travelling were the clear starlit nights
with no wind, when visibility was fair and there were no strange noises to disturb my concentration. On such nights it was exhilarating to be on the move and clear of the camp and not to be a POW
under constant surveillance.
It was on such a night that, having reached the shelter of the trees, I had the strangest feeling that something was wrong. I stopped, listening and watching for any movement, but everything
seemed to be normal. The feeling persisted so I stepped off the path and squatted under a big fir tree and waited, breathing very gently. It didn’t take long to spot the large man-sized
shadow going along the path in the direction I should have been taking. My brain raced with possible explanations of this new development. The only solution was to wait a couple of minutes and turn
back into camp. When I explained to Jimmy, Joe and Bill James what had transpired, we came to the conclusion that the guard had spotted me on one of my trips and, instead of doing a body-count in
the barrack-room, had decided to follow and find out where I was going.
The guard in question at this particular time was a very nice bloke. Tall, good-looking and softly spoken, he had told us that he would do any boot repairs we required as this was a hobby of
his. In return we were to give him no hassle. In fact he was so pleasant to have around that when we heard his wife was coming to visit for a weekend, we had a whip-round of odds and ends from our
Red Cross parcels so they could have a tasty couple of days. It was strange to see this strapping big soldier with tears in his eyes, and it was worth it to see the smile of thanks from his wife.
This same guard asked me to treat a nasty boil on his wrist because if he had returned to his Depot for treatment the chances of his being returned to our camp were slim. So, for both our sakes, I
took on the job. In about a week, after treating it with a strong-smelling ointment, I extracted the big root, leaving a large hole which healed up nicely in about another week.
Having said all that, I have no doubt that he would have had no hesitation in doing his duty and reporting us to his seniors had he found us breaking any of the rules. So it was agreed that
there would be no more ‘flying’, as Bill called it, until further notice. It was during this time that it became clear what harm my love life had done to my nervous system.
Everything was fine for the first five nights that I stayed at home doing nothing but being bored. This should have had a good therapeutic effect on me but my hormones set up their own protest
and almost killed me. We had turned in as usual after roll-call and I settled down to sleep after lights out, having spent a good healthy day in the beautiful mountain air. All went well until
about two o’clock in the morning – the time I usually returned from visiting Traudl. Suddenly I was wide awake, but never in my life had I been so wide awake. The intense awareness of
noises in the far distance was frightening and my whole body began to react to this super-sensitivity. Progressive palpitations followed and I felt that my heart was going to explode. Within
seconds of waking I was in such a state that I felt that death could be the only conclusion of this attack.
But after reaching its peak, the attack slowly eased off and I lay in my bunk, drained both mentally and physically, and gradually slipped into a deep dreamless sleep. In the morning when Jimmy
called me to get up, I told him what happened and asked him to report me sick as I felt totally incapable of work. However, after a day of complete rest, I recovered and almost forgot what I had
been through. We discussed the possibility of restarting nocturnal outings but it
Moonlit nights were also a problem as it could be too bright, and the combination of moonlight and snow made it impossible to go out. The best nights for travelling were the clear starlit nights
with no wind, when visibility was fair and there were no strange noises to disturb my concentration. On such nights it was exhilarating to be on the move and clear of the camp and not to be a POW
under constant surveillance.
It was on such a night that, having reached the shelter of the trees, I had the strangest feeling that something was wrong. I stopped, listening and watching for any movement, but everything
seemed to be normal. The feeling persisted so I stepped off the path and squatted under a big fir tree and waited, breathing very gently. It didn’t take long to spot the large man-sized
shadow going along the path in the direction I should have been taking. My brain raced with possible explanations of this new development. The only solution was to wait a couple of minutes and turn
back into camp. When I explained to Jimmy, Joe and Bill James what had transpired, we came to the conclusion that the guard had spotted me on one of my trips and, instead of doing a body-count in
the barrack-room, had decided to follow and find out where I was going.
The guard in question at this particular time was a very nice bloke. Tall, good-looking and softly spoken, he had told us that he would do any boot repairs we required as this was a hobby of
his. In return we were to give him no hassle. In fact he was so pleasant to have around that when we heard his wife was coming to visit for a weekend, we had a whip-round of odds and ends from our
Red Cross parcels so they could have a tasty couple of days. It was strange to see this strapping big soldier with tears in his eyes, and it was worth it to see the smile of thanks from his wife.
This same guard asked me to treat a nasty boil on his wrist because if he had returned to his Depot for treatment the chances of his being returned to our camp were slim. So, for both our sakes, I
took on the job. In about a week, after treating it with a strong-smelling ointment, I extracted the big root, leaving a large hole which healed up nicely in about another week.
Having said all that, I have no doubt that he would have had no hesitation in doing his duty and reporting us to his seniors had he found us breaking any of the rules. So it was agreed that
there would be no more ‘flying’, as Bill called it, until further notice. It was during this time that it became clear what harm my love life had done to my nervous system.
Everything was fine for the first five nights that I stayed at home doing nothing but being bored. This should have had a good therapeutic effect on me but my hormones set up their own protest
and almost killed me. We had turned in as usual after roll-call and I settled down to sleep after lights out, having spent a good healthy day in the beautiful mountain air. All went well until
about two o’clock in the morning – the time I usually returned from visiting Traudl. Suddenly I was wide awake, but never in my life had I been so wide awake. The intense awareness of
noises in the far distance was frightening and my whole body began to react to this super-sensitivity. Progressive palpitations followed and I felt that my heart was going to explode. Within
seconds of waking I was in such a state that I felt that death could be the only conclusion of this attack.
But after reaching its peak, the attack slowly eased off and I lay in my bunk, drained both mentally and physically, and gradually slipped into a deep dreamless sleep. In the morning when Jimmy
called me to get up, I told him what happened and asked him to report me sick as I felt totally incapable of work. However, after a day of complete rest, I recovered and almost forgot what I had
been through. We discussed the possibility of restarting nocturnal outings but it
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