Almost a Great Escape Read online

  Love, Ottar

  Knowing how difficult it is for Jens to write doesn’t make the waiting easier. How long can the war last?

  Then Big Marjorie corners you. You are caught. Trapped. Committed. Engaged to Don! Postpone. Argue. Fight. You cannot tell Jens. Your friend Shirley writes in mid-March 1943:

  Saturday Night

  Dear Alice,

  I have been hearing reports on you from all kinds of sources and finally decide that what I heard must be true and so I’m writing to tell you how wonderful I think it is that you’re engaged!

  Donny always seemed like such a sweet and nice boy whenever I’ve seen him — I know that sounds soupy but I mean it! I want to wish you every happiness and I’m sure that you’ll have it.

  I suppose that of course it will mean the end of college for you but don’t let us lose touch with each other! At least you won’t have Zoology to worry about.

  . . . Lots of love and best of luck

  Shirley

  I suppose that means the end of college for you? Why?

  Can you escape? Write Jens. Send parcels. Knit socks. Trust him to trust you.

  The hidden heart breaks to read his Kriegsgefangenenpost letters. Censored. Intercepted. Read by guards to their girlfriends. Read by Big Marjorie? Always a single page folded twice. Neatly written. Each word of love considered. Measured.

  How can you tell him of your prison? How unbearable is your Westmount Members Only compound compared to German machine guns and dogs? You say nothing.

  Maybe you are just a pretty debutante with a wealthy family. Maybe you are wrong to want a life of your own. Who can you turn to?

  Every day you are beaten down a little more by Big Marjorie. She’s too powerful. Too experienced. Too determined. Too enduring.

  Jens’s letters of never mentioned escape and yours of never said matri­monial ambush criss-cross the Atlantic heavy with questions unanswerable.

  Barbed wire and social etiquette are no response to love.

  LETTERS

  “ONE DAY NEARER THE DAY OF PEACE”

  February 28, 1943

  Dear, Dear Alice,

  To give you a receipt of all the letters you have sent me since I last wrote you would fill this letter. In addition, one cigarette parcel, two book parcels containing Pocketbook editions ledgers & pencils, & one clothing parcel, all of which arrived complete as specified in the accompanying lists. Thanks very much all of you!! — I noticed you had made sure the socks would fit; & they do too! — From any point of view it must be a relief for you to start at college where you more or less can choose the subjects that interest you. However I believe you like & are interested in most subjects. — Here one day follows the other without any appreciable excitements or variations. I have been reading a lot the last months, but mostly textbooks, which makes one feel some-what fed up after a while, especially when one realizes how unconceivably thickskulled one has gradually become. However I have a lot of good English & Norwegian non-educational books which give quite a lot of relaxation. The amount of textbooks I have now would take me years to digest, quite apart from the fact that although I would have been able to understand them before the war, I now find I have to revise more & more to have a hope of reading them intelligently. I have heard from Ottar twice. They are very lazy as far as writing is concerned in England. Well, Alice dear, we are one day nearer the day of peace!

  Yours as ever, Jens

  P.S. My best to you all.

  Of course, no mention of his involvement in the tunnelling.

  A MESSAGE FROM JENS'S GRAVE

  “A SMALL JOB IN THE UNDERGROUND”

  I was too new in the camp to be included in any schemes. I kept myself occupied. Read a great deal, walked rounds and took part in gymnastics arranged by Englishmen. The food gradually improved. Red Cross parcels began to arrive so we were not starving. And we could go in for sport and gymnastics. When the weather was so bad that it wasn’t fun to walk rounds, or when I was tired of reading, I started making things, teaspoons, bookcases and kitchen utensils. The spoons and small gadgets I made came in handy.

  The fact that I could use my hands a bit helped me, without my realizing it, to a small job in the underground organization. One even­ing Wally came home after one of his customary absences and asked quite casually if I could make a large pair of bellows. I was sure this could be done if we could find the right materials and tools. Tools were strictly prohibited in the camp, and all sorts of materials, from nails to pieces of wood and string were very hard to get. Wally grew very thoughtful but said no more.

  A couple of days later he asked me to join him after the roll call when the Germans had left. He took me to a room in one of the barracks. Several other men were there. Some were changing into old shabby clothes. We remained there some minutes. Wally was soon having an earnest conversation with one of these men. I only stood by looking at them. A certain atmosphere of excitement was in the air. The climax came when a man stuck his head in at the door and said: “All Clear.”

  Wally then opened the trap door to a tunnel and a few minutes later brought up a broken bellows they had been using to pump fresh air into the tunnel. Jens rebuilt and improved the bellows and was kept busy working on the camp’s first tunnels, ones that were always discovered by the guards. It would be a year before the prisoners were able to complete a tunnel.

  Jens also met several other Norwegian airmen in the camp, including Halldor Espelid and Per Bergsland, with whom he was photographed in the camp.

  Per [Bergsland] or “Pete” as he was called was the next Norwegian to arrive. He was also to be sent to Schubin, Poland. Like many other Norwegian airmen “Pete” had also flown under a false name, an English one (Rocky Rockland), for precautionary reasons. They were men who were on the German black list before escaping from Norway and were not certain the Germans would respect the Geneva Convention if they were taken prisoners.

  Respect for the Geneva Convention . . . a subtle way of saying they were afraid the Germans would shoot prisoners attempting to escape — as prisoners were honour-bound to try — despite their agreement to the Convention.

  A BIG MARJORIE STORY

  A NASTY TRAIT

  I don’t have another of my stories ready for you today. I try to leave one with you every time I visit, but your engagement to Don has me confused. I can see Big Marjorie is unrelenting in wanting her own way — a nasty trait that drives away the people she loves — and you are doing your best to stand up to her demand: Get married! Too bad you don’t dare tell her about Jens. Too bad Big Marjorie didn’t teach you wanting is different than needing. Wanting turns everyone nasty.

  A TYLER STORY

  AN APOLOGY

  I apologize for the remark I made last visit about Big Marjorie’s nastiness. I don’t like the way she twists love to get what she wants — ultimately the house on top of Westmont Boulevard. But you gave in, and not telling Jens about your engagement to Don made you look opportunistic. I know you’re not like Big Marjorie. Sorry.

  It is now the spring of 1943. I have to tell you I’m gossipy fascinated by this situation. You’re still engaged to Don. You’re still enrolled at McGill. Jens is in Stalag Luft III and you have no idea he is preparing to escape.

  You’ve finished your first year at McGill and, escaping temporarily — if that was ever possible — from Montreal and Big Marjorie, you’re writing stories in your spare time at St. Marguerite’s.

  And waiting.

  LETTERS

  MY LOVE FOR YOU

  June 24, 1943

  Dearest Alice,

  Today I received one of the sweetest letters you ever wrote to me. Before I write anything more I want you to know Alice, that I love you as always, & I shall return to tell you that I feel exactly the same way as I have since I met you. Dearest if I, after I was shot down & got time to think of the future, ever doubted if I should go to Canada when peace came, it was not because my love for you had faded the least, but for the rea
sons I so often have pointed out to you. But the time of this doubting is gone long ago, so be prepared to see me back in Montreal soon after the war. To know of your faith in me Alice, fills me with a peculiar, delightful feeling which I have never experienced before. I think I appreciate the full value of your faith in me. — Lately I have been thinking much about how to make a living. Why not sell Norwegian skis as a start, & then perhaps gradually build up a ski factory. I am sorry to say so Alice, but so far I have not seen a good Canadian-made ski. — Please learn, young lady, that in this camp it is an observed fact that almost all of the Canadians get photos in nearly every letter from home. — The 19th of June it was one year since I was shot down. Time has flown away, & soon I hope to be with you again. Please greet your family from me, & please do not read too much Alice.

  Love, Jens

  AN ALICE STORY

  TRY NOT TO FORGET AN OLD FRIEND

  The Social Scene: Here’s a clipping that makes me imagine Big Marjorie has ensured her number one asset is in the spotlight. It features you, Miss Alice Tyler, wearing a natural lynx coat over a honey beige corduroy suit, at the Holt Renfrew Fashion Show held, of course, at the Alpine Inn for the benefit of the Canadian Red Cross.

  You look gorgeous.

  The next letter is the last of many from Don. Too bad he couldn’t have known about Jens instead of breaking his heart over you. Uncle John told me you ended your engagement to Don by throwing his ring across the room at a party (very big) and shouting, “I’ll never marry you.” Don, as the Tyler family often reminded you later, went on to do very well. (Palms down.)

  July 18, 1943

  Dear Alice,

  I was up in the park tonight sitting all by myself thinking of the times I had been there with you and wishing you were there now, but knowing that you were having quite a time where you are.

  I have been coming home for the last week twice a day and have been left disappointed twice a day.

  I realise that I don’t mean anything any more but surely you could take time out to give a moment to an old friend who does care and I’m afraid always will.

  . . . Well Alice try not to forget an old friend to whom you mean so much and remain your same sweet self.

  Loads of love,

  Don

  The Social Scene: In the Alice’s Suitcase medley of arranged love, irony, honesty, and idiosyncrasies I keep your this tells it all clipping from an Alpine Inn Horse Show, just as Uncle John described it. Very Big. Check out the show-off crowd:

  Mrs. W.R.G. Holt and her son are being photographed as they arrive in an old-fashioned horse-drawn brougham. Extremely classy (i.e., expensive). She’s the daughter of wealthy industrialist Herbert Holt, reported to be the richest man in Montreal. Her son had better stay clear of Panzer Eyes. And over by the announcer are Sir Frederick and Lady Bowhill — he’s the influential leader of the RAF Ferry Command that is sending new fighter planes overseas. I hope you flashed your blues and told him he’d better send a rescue mission to Stalag Luft III — special delivery! And in the stands is young Louis Valois who should be paying more attention to the horses than to the blonde Alice Tyler sitting beside him.

  LETTERS

  NO SIGN OF LIFE

  Jens writes again, reassured. His letter is dated November 14, almost a month after you sent the one he refers to. It must have been difficult for both of you to keep hope alive when even a simple question in a letter might take two months to be answered.

  November 14, 1943

  Dearest,

  Your letter dated Sept. 26th-43 was waiting for me on the table when I came back from the library for lunch, & I was delighted, to say the least, with hearing from you again Alice, especially after such a long time with no sign of life from you.

  On Sundays I usually let the studies rest, & write letters or read fiction instead. In order to get something done during the weekdays, I have also found it necessary to work out a routine & follow that as closely as possible. — The news from home [is] good as usual; my mother & brother write very often. Ottar & friends in England have been very lazy. I hope to hear from you soon again Dearest.

  Love to you all!

  Your Jens

  A hint? . . . “In order to get something done during the weekdays.” What is the “something” he has to get done during the weekdays?

  AN ALICE STORY

  BYRON AND SHELLEY

  I find some insight into how you are spending your away from Big Marjorie time in this letter from an admirer, Bill, stationed in Quebec.

  My Dear Alice,

  You know, it’s a dreamlike opportunity you have up there, in your fastness of St. Marguerites, for literary inspiration. Afternoons of skiing etc. (Mornings for sleep of course) and then devote those soft, moonlit hours of mystery in the evening, to reading and writing.

  Personally, I should commandeer a dormered upper room entirely for my own cultural nocturnes.

  Byron and Shelley beneath the stars!

  The magic of Brahms amidst moonbeams, dusting the soul of tranquillity! Ah!

  Well, Alice old girl, I eagerly await a line from you — and more promptly than mine.

  Sincerely, Bill

  The life you wanted was so close. Writing stories at St. Marguerite’s away from Big Marjorie while you wait for Jens’s release. He, along with the other British airmen, had been transferred on March 29, 1943, to the North Compound in Stalag Luft III.

  It is here that a closed mouthed team of airmen begins plans for the biggest escape of the war. Soon your love is kept busy.

  A TYLER STORY

  THE PERFECTIONIST

  I bought Paul Brickhill’s book The Great Escape to compare it with Jens’s messages. I soon found out that Jens wrote very modestly about his own role in the escape preparations. For example, he simply says he belonged to the department that made the air pumps. According to Brickhill, Jens made the detailed drawings and built the pumps from scrap wood and leather scavenged from kitbags. Like Jens, the pumps proved reliable and effective.

  Brickhill describes many other details about Jens’s work that Jens doesn’t think worth mentioning. For instance Jens made the seals used to stamp forged documents by carving eagles and swastikas into soap and casting the seals from melted silver foil.

  For the buckles used on military disguises, Jens and a friend persuaded a guard to take off his jacket in the heat of the day. While the guard was distracted, Jens pressed the buckle into soap to make the mould. According to Brickhill, Jens’s belt buckle “was perfect.”

  One request from the Escape Committee that seemed impossible even for Jens was to duplicate a carbine from wood that would be real enough to fool the guards at the camp’s entrance. To get accurate measurements for the replica, Jens talked to a guard while another prisoner stood behind the guard measuring the real carbine with an improvised calliper. After carving the wood, Jens used nails and melted foil from cigarette packages to reproduce the metal parts. Then, as Brickhill writes, Jens “polished it with graphite until it was perfect.” The carbine would be used in an almost successful escape by Jens’s friend Per Berglund.

  That was how the men in the camp viewed Jens — perfect. A perfectionist in everything he did. No mistakes.

  A MESSAGE FROM JENS'S GRAVE

  “THEY WERE MISTAKEN”

  The first two months in the new (north) camp were lively, not only because we were occupied getting our rooms and personal belongings in order, but also because attempts at escape were almost a daily oc­currence. The queerest methods were tried just at the time when the Germans were busy organizing things in the new camp. They thought we were too busy getting our things in order to think of anything else.

  They were mistaken.

  . . . The main work started with the digging of three tunnels. All the experience gained from similar work in the old camp was put into it. The trapdoors leading down into the tunnel, which up to now had been the weak point which usually led to discovery of the tunnels were extreme
ly carefully constructed. As it happened, the Germans themselves had been considerate enough to help us a long way with this. Contrary to the arrangement in the old barracks, a foundation was laid under each room in the new barracks. This consisted of a large square block which was meant to carry the weight of the oven and chimney. It was not difficult to find that the most convenient place for a tunnel entrance was just through such a foundation.

  LETTERS

  PRIDE AND PREJUDICE

  August 30, 1943

  Dearest,

  It is exactly two months three days since I received a letter from you, & I am at a loss as to finding a reason. However another clothing parcel arrived on August 10th, all complete except for the notebooks. Thank you very much! With regards to letters, I am optimistic & trusting that the fall with its many rainy days will give you time enough to write me a note once in a while again. The very warm weather that has been prevailing these last four to five weeks has more or less put a stop to any serious reading or studying, although one book-parcel after another has arrived from England containing very good books indeed. Only some weeks ago I finished one of the first books you sent me, namely “Pride & Prejudice,” which I enjoyed very much. — How is your work getting on Alice, & what are your thoughts nowadays? Your last letter was dated April 27 which makes the latest news I have of you four months old. — One Canadian whose companionship I value very much, his name is Donald McDonald, asks me if you know his friend Ruth Hanna, who lives in Lansdowne Ave 350. If you do, please give her his best regards. —

  I am longing to see you again Alice.

  Your Jens

  You sent him Pride and Prejudice! And poker-faced Jens responds, “Which I enjoyed very much.” Wouldn’t Jane Austen have found her story of matri­monial manipulation an absolutely delightful coincidence considering all your complex Don and Jens misinterpretations? Will sweet Alice get her man in the end?