Escaping the Gestapo – Climbing the Pyrenees Part 1

March 27th, 2021

Chuck Yeager:

Having been shot down March 5, 1944 and hidden for several weeks, we pick up the story at the foothills of the Pyrenees.

We leave the house when night falls. After a few hours we arrive at what is basically a hut to spend the day resting and sleeping for the next day we are to start our long climb into Spain. The first part will be the most challenging – getting around a Gestapo headquartered town.

Several of the guys drink a lot during the day. I sleep with one eye open.

The next night we start. The weather is stinking – you can’t see in front of your face so we each put a hand on the shoulder of the guy in front of us and trudge along in 3’ high and thick snow, mist, occasional rain, the guide, perhaps Andre Crampe, leading in front. We go through a pass and then down again. It is one of the worst winters. But we had to leave Nerac and that area. The Gestapo had picked up a member of the French Underground and when they tortured him, he gave up everybody. Gabriel was warned and he, in turn warned the rest of his battalion to scatter into the forests and got all the Allied airmen on their way to the Pyrenees. Just in the nick of time.

We must cross a road – very exposed and well-traveled especially by the Gestapo. We may be caught before we even start. If so, we will be tortured and shot.

We cross in twos. The first two run across and jump in the ditch there to hide. The next two wait for the lone car to pass. Then the next two cross. In total we are about nine guys.

Some are already showing signs of fatigue.

After all are safely across, we start again on flat area then we start climbing again. We move slowly above and around a town with lights. I learned much later (2008) that this was Super Bagneres, the Gestapo headquarters for the area.

We reach a crest past Bagneres, still in France, with much climbing still to do for a few days, and Andre mimes to us he is leaving us, but points: Spain is that way. We’ve been told to go as far into Spain as we can because, on or near the border, some of the Basque or the Spanish might sell you back to the Gestapo. There was good money in it. So now we had to look out for Germans and Spanish, as well as the French Milice (French police under the Germans, much worse than the Nazis and Gestapo). Nothing friendly about this area.

We descend a little and head up the next mountain. Most are going too slowly, so another guy and I move on out ahead of the pack and eventually lose them.

c, GCYI

 

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