Dave Porter's war honors

The next day found Dave and about one hundred prisoners herded in a long, low building which had once been used as a horse-stable. It was located at a place which had evidently been a fairgrounds, for close behind were the remains of a race-track and a grand-stand.

“I wonder how long we’ll have to stay in this place?” grumbled Ralph Thompson.

“Pretty bum quarters, eh?” added Oscar Davis.

“Anyway, it’s better than that cattle-car we were herded in,” remarked Dave. “There are more windows and we can get better air.”

That afternoon the young lieutenant was called out and made to march to a military quarters not far away. There he was asked his name and the name of the command to which he belonged, and then a great number of questions were put to him. He answered as well as he could, taking care, of course, that he did not give the enemy any information of military value.

“You have evidently been well drilled concerning what to say if captured,” remarked the questioner, a burly German officer, as he glared at Dave. “If you expect good treatment at our hands you will have to loosen your tongue a little.”

“I have answered every question put to me,” was our hero’s prompt reply.

“But you are keeping a whole lot of information to yourself,” stormed the German officer. “But we’ll get it out of you sooner or later, never fear!” and then he ordered a couple of the guards to take Dave back to the prison pen.

The other prisoners were also questioned one by one. A few of them probably told more than they should, doing this perhaps innocently, but the majority were very close-mouthed, so much so that their German questioners were anything but pleased.

“These American swine think they can do as they please,” grumbled one of the German officers. “But just wait—we’ll show them what’s what!”

As a result of their holding back information desired by the Huns, the prisoners were treated with more severity than ever. Some of the windows of the horse-stable were boarded up, and their rations were cut down to such small portions that even the most liberal-minded men in the crowd demurred.

“This is positively inhuman!” declared one of the Canadians. “It’s against the rules of war, too!”

“England will have a big claim to settle against Germany when this war is over,” declared another.

“I reckon Uncle Sam will have a claim, too,” put in an American prisoner from Alabama.

Several days, including Sunday, were spent in this prison pen, and then one morning, while it was raining hard, one of the doors was opened and a number of prisoners were told to come out as their names were called.

“I guess they’re going to take us to some other place,” remarked Dave. “I wonder where?”

“I hope it’s some better place than this,” growled Oscar Davis.

Dave was among the first to be called out, and a number of Americans and Canadians followed, among them being Ralph Thompson. Oscar Davis was left behind along with a number of others, why, Dave could not surmise.

Without having a chance to say good-bye to those left behind, about thirty of the prisoners were marched away from the horse-stables to a railroad station in a small German village. On the way some boys and girls jeered at them, and one old woman sifted some ashes down on their heads from a second-story window.

Some of these ashes got into Dave’s eyes, almost blinding him. He forgot for the instant where he was walking, and did not realize the situation until one of the guards hit him in the shoulder, almost knocking him over. Had there been the slightest chance of improving his condition thereby, Dave would have leaped upon this guard and pommeled him well. But he knew such an action would have meant death, so he controlled himself as best he could and continued on the march.

At the railroad station they were herded into a small freight-yard, and there received another meal of watery soup and black bread. While they were trying to eat this some of the town folks came down to jeer at them and a few to hurl sticks and stones.

“Being a prisoner is certainly no picnic,” remarked Ralph Thompson.

“I know what I am going to do,” answered Dave, in a low tone of voice. “I am going to break away at the first opportunity that presents itself.”

“They’ll shoot you down if they get the chance.”

“I don’t care—let them shoot!” answered the young lieutenant.

The inhuman treatment which had been accorded him since his capture was beginning to make him reckless. Where the Germans were going to send him next, he could not surmise, but he felt certain they would place him at work, either on one of their roads, or else in one of their mines. There, he knew, he would be made to labor ten or twelve hours a day on the scantiest of food and in all sorts of weather.

“It’s enough to break down a mule,” he reasoned to himself. “I’m not going to stand it! I’m going to do what I can to escape at the very first opportunity.”

All that day and the following night were spent in the little freight-yard. During the darkness the guards were increased, and electric lights were made to illuminate the scene, so that escape was out of the question. It still rained as hard as ever.

Dave turned the matter over in his mind for an hour or two, but finally gave it up and got what little sleep he could sitting with his back against some old railroad ties. Our hero, as well as all of the other prisoners, was by this time soaked to the skin, and many of the crowd got heavy colds, from which one or two of them did not recover.

It was not until after seven o’clock that evening that a line of freight cars came rattling into the yard. When it came to a standstill those in the yard noted from the sounds that reached them that more than three quarters of the cars were filled with prisoners. They begged for food and water and fresh air, but the Germans having the train in charge paid no attention to their appeals.

The prisoners in the yard were placed in two cars, and this time Dave was separated from Ralph Thompson. He was told to get into a car which was partly filled with packing-cases. There was room for just a dozen prisoners, and these were herded together closely.

“These are smaller quarters than any yet,” remarked one of the prisoners.

“But the car is fairly clean, and that is one comfort,” said another.

“And we can use some of these packing-cases to sit on,” added a third.

“I wonder if there is any grub in these boxes?” ventured a fourth prisoner, after the door had been closed and locked upon them. “If there is anything to eat, I’m going to have it.”

Of course, it was quite dark in the car, but one prisoner chanced to have a few matches, and one of these was lit and the boxes hastily inspected. They proved to contain pieces of small machinery, much to the prisoners’ disgust.

“We can’t eat hardware,” was the way one of them expressed himself.

One of the boxes had been left open, and Dave used this for a seat. As the train bumped along, making probably twenty-five or thirty miles an hour, he felt in the box and presently brought out a small piece of machinery shaped something like a jimmy.

As the train rattled on the young lieutenant heard one prisoner ask another what time it was and found out that it was close to ten o’clock in the evening. The rain had stopped, but it was still cloudy, with no stars showing themselves.

“If I could only get out of this car I might have a chance to hide in some good place before daylight,” Dave reasoned. “If the door was open, I think I’d take a chance on jumping out, even though this old train is running along at fairly good speed.”

He was sitting not far from one of the doors of the car, and now he examined this as best he could in the darkness. Then he took the piece of machinery in his hand and forced it between the door and its frame.

“What are you trying to do there?” questioned one of the other prisoners who was at his side.

“I’m going to try to force this door open,” answered our hero.

“What? And jump out in the darkness? You’ll break your neck!” was the quick reply.

“I’ll see about what I’ll do after I get the door open—if I can get it open,” answered the young lieutenant.

Fortunately for our hero, the car was an old one and the fastenings were rather dilapidated. By using the piece of machinery as a jimmy, he forced the edge of the door outwards until there came a sudden snap which showed that the lock had been broken. Then the lock fell away and the door slid open with ease.

“Hello, somebody has opened the door!” cried a voice in the darkness.

“That fresh air feels fine!”

“What’s doing there?” questioned somebody else. “Are we going to get out?”

“I broke the door open with one of those pieces of machinery,” answered Dave. “I don’t intend to remain a prisoner any longer. I am going to jump from this train at the very first chance I get.”

“Don’t do it, lad! Don’t do it!” cried one of the older men. “You’ll break your neck sure!”

“And you can’t get away,” added another. “The Germans will be sure to spot you in the morning and they’ll shoot you down.”

To this Dave did not reply. Instead he peered forth from the train, opening the door only a few inches for that purpose.

All was dark, and for a minute or two he could see but little. Then he made out that they were passing through a patch of woods and that the jagged rocks were numerous along the roadbed.

“I can’t jump out here,” he told himself. “I’d either be killed or terribly cut up.”

A few minutes later the woods were left behind, and then the prisoners found themselves bumping over a railroad crossing. Then they ran into a small station, which was lit up by smoky lanterns.

“I guess this is my chance,” Dave told himself, and the train had not yet come to a stop when he pushed open the door a little farther and allowed himself to drop out on the ground. Then, as the train rolled a few yards further, he made a quick leap for the shelter of some nearby sheds.

The young lieutenant knew only too well that it would be foolhardy to remain long in that vicinity. The train had halted, and undoubtedly some sort of inspection would be made of the cars and the prisoners. The broken-open door would be discovered, and then would come an alarm.

“I’ve got to place distance between myself and this place,” he murmured, and, watching his chance, he sped along a line of low warehouses and then took to some open fields beyond. He kept on at his best rate of speed until he crossed a road and then came to a patch of woods, evidently that through which the train had recently passed.

By that time Dave was so out of wind he could run no longer, and, finding a comfortable resting place among the trees and bushes, he sat down and gave himself over to his thoughts.

It must be admitted that his mind was by no means at ease. He realized that in thus attempting to escape he had taken his life in his hands. Should the German guards make a search and discover him, his life would probably pay the forfeit.

“I’ll have to lie low in the daytime,” he told himself, “and do all of my traveling at night. And how I’m going to get anything to eat is a question.”

Having rested and at the same time listened in vain for some sounds of pursuit, the young lieutenant went on his way, coming out of the woods along the line of the railroad. Looking back, he made out the distant village where the train had stopped, and then hurried forward in the direction from which he had come. He reasoned that the train had been carrying him deeper into the enemy’s country, and what he wanted to do was to get back to the vicinity of the war front.

Our hero had traveled a distance of a mile or more when he heard a rumble behind him. Looking back, he saw a train approaching rather slowly. As it came closer he made out that it was a heavily loaded freight. It was going uphill, and the engineer had all he could do to coax the locomotive into hauling the load.

Our hero stood to one side and allowed a number of cars to pass him. Then, struck by a sudden thought, he watched his opportunity and boarded the freight-train.

Dave had supposed that the entire train was made up of cars filled with freight. But in this the young lieutenant was mistaken. Several of the cars in the center of the train contained soldiers on their way to the front. More than this, the train carried its regular guards, and as Dave stood between two of the cars wondering what he had best do next, he heard two of these guards talking in guttural tones.

“They say four or five of the prisoners got away,” he heard one of the men say, in German.

“That’s too bad, Heinrich. Do you suppose they came this way?” remarked a second guard.

“Dolbear thought so,” went on the first speaker. “He told me to tell you and the others to be on the watch. If we see any of those rascals we are to shoot them on sight.”