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s___________ The Ditch and the Outhouse I lay down gasping for breath in a dry irrigation ditch surrounded by thick shrub. Thoroughly exhausted, I settled down to sweat things out till nightfall. And sweat I did, literally. It was only midaftemoon, and it felt like an unusually warm day for early November. I took off my heated suit, leaving only my summer coveralls over my long johns. The man with the cap, who had disappeared soon after showing me where to hide, returned. When he saw the electric suit lying beside me, he insisted on taking it off my hands and hiding it. He took the suit and disappeared again. Now I was alone-at least I thought so. But when I stuck my head up over the edge of the ditch, I saw a beautiful and most comforting sight. On the field immediately beside me a farmer was plowing with his horse. On the neighboring plot another farmer was working the field by hand. And through an opening in the trees on the other side of the dirt road, I saw a man and woman taking up their labors again. They all went about their tasks, pretending I wasn't there. They were my new escort, protecting me as those Thunderbolts had protected our plane only an hour ago. (Only an hour ago? It seemed a lifetime!) Now I had time to think about the next step. I knew I had to get as far away as possible from this area. Our intelligence officers had told us in briefings that during the first forty-eight hours the Germans conduct a very intensive and methodical search in the immediate area. And then, just as methodically, after forty-eight 32 ESCAPE FROM HITLER'S EUROPE hours they discontinue the search. I was sure they were already combing the fields for me and the rest of the crew. It was dangerous to move about. With luck I could hide out in that spot till nightfall. The next problem was how to connect with the underground. Everyone knew there was a well-organized underground. But how did you reach it? Its members operated with the utmost care and secrecy. I couldn't go around asking, "Where's the underground ?" Perhaps they would come to me? My general plan was to head for France, which, we were informed by our intelligence, was the main escape route. The German coastal buildup against the expected allied invasion across the English Channel made escape from Europe by fishing boat virtually impossible. My spirits were up. I was trying to take in everything that had happened to me that day. It was only two-thirty in the afternoon, but the events in the morning seemed to have taken place many, many years before in some other world. Which one was the real world, I wondered. At that moment I was actually thrilled at the idea ofbeing here among these people. I did not know what lay ahead, but I welcomed the experience. It wasn't the danger that appealed to me but the idea of sharing the experience of people fighting Hitler's Germany. I thought of the French Maquis in the forests of southern France, of the anti-Franco guerrillas still fighting against Franco in Asturias, and ofthe partisans in Yugoslavia. In those few minutes I fantasized that I would somehow find my way to one of these groups. I knew that many of the leaders of these partisan movements in the occupied countries were Spanish Republican exiles and former volunteers in the International Brigades. The experience we had gained in the Spanish war was now being put to use in the world war against Hitler. This war was only the continuation of that one. A passionate hatred of Fascism characterized those Project MUSE (2024-04-26 14:28 GMT) The Ditch and the Outhouse 33 men and women who came from so many nations to fight against Hitler and Mussolini in Spain. They would never give up, no matter how hard the fight. I hoped I would run into some of them. But I knew that my immediate duty was not to stay and fight but to make good my escape and get back to England as soon as possible. I would do my damnedest to get away. I knew that ifI were captured and the Germans learned that I was a former Lincoln Brigaderand a Jew, I would not fare well at their hands. This...

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