March 1944 Escaping Germans – a farmhouse in Spain

March 30th, 2016

After catnapping, I dragged and carried the airman for what seemed like hours. We were starving. We came upon a farm and I wondered if we’d be safe. I was sure we were in Spain but the people living on the border might sell us back to the Germans – they paid a good price.

We were so hungry and tired, we chanced it. We slowly approached the farmhouse. I’m sure they were eyeing us the whole way.

As we got closer, I examined the whole area, decided on some escape routes. As we got right up to the door, it swung open, and the woman beckoned us inside and hurry. They fed us a large meal and we slept by the fire as our clothes dried out. Much safer to hang our socks. I still did not go into a deep sleep. I was ready to run. How I would do so carrying the airman, I couldn’t quite work out.

All was well. I haven’t been able to find that Spanish family to thank them again.

Better fed, I got up on a ridge and could see far below, a fairly large town. I carried and mostly slid with the airman down the mountain. I left him on the road for the Guardia Civil, Spanish police, to pick him up and  headed up into the mountains again to get as far south beyond the border as I could.

I finally came down into a town, hopped a bus, held on for dear life and made it to Sort. They put me in the jail, such as it was. I wondered what this meant – were they finding Germans to whom to sell me?

I escaped and went to a hotel where I slept for what felt like a month although I think it was only 24 hours straight. I didn’t care what happened, I needed sleep.

A knock at the door awakened me.


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