Why don’t we have more movies about escaping from prisoner of war camps? To be fair, I’m probably one of the few people who think about shit like that. But seriously, pretty much the only movie in this genre that people know about is The Great Escape (1963). It’s a decently fun movie and I recommend checking it out if you’ve never seen it. Sure, they get stuff wrong but that’s Hollywood, right? They screw shit up all the time.
A quick google search of “prisoner of war movies” gives you this list from IMBD but does anyone recognize more than a few of those titles? All I’m trying to say is that I’ve stumbled across a number of other real-life escapes that left me saying: “Damn, this should be a fucking movie.” So sit back and get ready to LEARN about them.
The Rat Hell Redemption
One aspect of the American Civil War that I have always found interesting (because I’m a fucking loser) is that the Confederates chose Richmond, Virginia as their capital city. Why is that interesting? Because Richmond is barely a two hour drive from Washington, D.C – the capital of the Union. Hell, at a decent pace you could walk that shit in less than two days.
A little bit of research told me that the Confederates chose Richmond due to its strategic location, transportation system, and industrial capabilities. Which, sure, that makes sense but I still think it’s wild that both seats of government were less than the viewing time of My Cousin Vinny (1992) away from each other. You know who else found this fact interesting? A bunch of Union prisoners of war being held in Richmond.
Boom! Segue.
It turns out Richmond had plenty of warehouses that were converted into prisons once the war began in 1861. One of these warehouses became Libby Prison and in 1862 it was designated to hold captured Union officers. Shortly after opening, Libby gained a brutal reputation due to over-crowding which led to disease, lack of food, and many areas were open to the elements leaving the prisoners at the mercy of mother nature.
It wasn’t long before the Union prisoners had enough and decided to ditch this bitch and make their way north. Where did they find salvation? In Rat Hell, of course.
This might come as a shock but the basement of Libby Prison also wasn’t in great shape. One entire section had been a kitchen but due to constant flooding and an enormous rat infestation the Confederates decided “fuck it” and boarded the place up. It soon earned the nickname “Rat Hell” from guards and prisoners alike and both went out of their way to avoid it. That is, until a few Union officers got an idea.
That’s right, they trained an army of rats and took over the prison. Just kidding, can you imagine though? Adorable.
No, what the prisoners actually did was sneak their way into Rat Hell through an old chimney. Once inside the abandoned room, they began digging a 50ft tunnel under the prison walls to a warehouse across the street. An African American man named Robert Ford was instrumental in assisting in the escape. Having been captured earlier in the war, Ford was a stableman at Libby and thus had more freedom of movement around the prison. He provided information on where the tunnel should go, how far to dig, and where the prisoners could hide once outside the walls.
The guards would periodically poke their heads into the darkness of Rat Hell but they never lingered, certainly not long enough to notice a small hole in the wall. Within 17 days the tunnel was complete and on the night of February 9, 1864, over 100 Union prisoners crawled their way to freedom. In groups of twos and threes the officers escaped before the guards realized what was happening…17 hours later.
What took so long? The prisoners routinely liked to fuck around during the morning roll call so when the count came up short the guards didn’t think too much of it. It was only after several more counts that they realized they were indeed 109 men short. All in all 59 men were able to reach friendly lines while 48 were recaptured. Also two men unfortunately drowned in a river which is just a little embarrassing.
The spirits are saying you should let me go…
Digging a tunnel is unquestionably the good old reliable method to escape a prisoner of war camp. Sure, they’re labour intensive, dark, dangerous, probably claustrophobic as hell, and there’s the question of what to do with all the dirt but, in the end, they seem to get the job done.
But some prefer the method of “work smarter, not harder” when it comes to their prison escaping shenanigans. With that, let’s meet our two heroes: Cedric Hill and Elias Henry Jones
Hill was an Australian sheep farmer, handy mechanic, and part-time magician (seriously) who joined the British Royal Flying Corps when the First World War broke out in 1914. He flew reconnaissance missions in Egypt but was captured by the Ottomans after being shot down in the Sinai Desert. Jones was a Welshman living in India who joined the Indian Army but was captured, along with 13,000 others, by Ottoman forces following the siege of Kut in modern day Iraq. The two would eventually meet in Yogzad prison camp in central Turkey in early 1917.
Now, while in Yogzad the men were permitted to write and receive letters from family members because apparently not all aspects of being a prisoners are horrendous. One day Jones received a letter from an aunt in which she included detailed information on how to make his own ouija board. You know, one of those boards sixth-graders use at sleepovers with the letters so spirits can send messages. I assume she also tried to send him healing crystals and a dreamcatcher.
I guess boredom got the better of them so Hill and Jones made the ouija board and started holding seances for the other prisoners. This is when they started manipulating and deceiving the Ottoman guards into believing that they actually were capable of speaking to spirits. One thing led to another and the commandant (basically the warden) became fully convinced of their abilities.
Then things got a little weird. See, there was a local rumour that someone had buried treasure in the area of Yogzad and the commandant wanted to use the two “mediums” to find it. Seeing their opportunity, Hill and Jones agreed to help. They started burying cryptic little clues around the camp and then, with the commandant present, the spirits would “tell them” where they were located. The guards would then miraculously dig up the clues exactly where the two men said they would be.
Hill and Jones eventually planned to have the “spirits” tell them that the treasure was buried far away from Yogzad and once they were beyond the camp they would make their escape. Unfortunately, someone ratted them out and their scheme went to shit. That left them with no other option but Plan B.
The two men swapped out the “talking to ghosts” card for “actually we’re insane” and convinced the commandant to have them committed to a mental hospital in Constantinople. Why the hell would they do that? Because if they were declared insane they would have a good chance of being sent home. Hill and Jones assumed they would have to keep up the act for a couple weeks to convince the doctors they were legitimately insane. Six fucking months of tests, tricks, and traps almost literally drove the two of them out of their minds before psychologists finally believed them. Both men were put on a hospital ship and arrived in England on October 30, 1918. The war ended twelve days later. Ha!
The Two-Timing Frenchman
I have to admit that I’m a big fan of this next one. Not because I particularly like the person involved or because their escape was especially dramatic or anything like that. No, this one stands out because it uses a method of escape that I was certain was just a Hollywood creation.
That’s right, folks! We’re talking the classic bedsheets tied together to climb out a window trick. This Scooby-Doo shit was legit!
Captain Henri Giraud was grievously wounded during a bayonet charge early in the First World War and was captured by German forces. I guess at this point they hadn’t learned that silly things like “courage” and “bravery” don’t count for much against machine guns. Anyways, Giraud was placed in a prison camp in Belgium where he allowed his wounds to heal while he planned his escape.
Giraud’s opportunity for freedom was presented in the form of a bad-ass English nurse named Edith Cavell. Cavell, while assisting the wounded on both sides, set up a system to help Allied prisoners escape to the neutral Netherlands. Two months after his imprisonment Giraud would escape the camp where he was being held and made his way from safe house to safe house with the assistance of Cavell and her network. He did this by wearing a number of different disguises such as that of a circus roustabout (whatever the fuck that is), a stableboy, and a coal salesman.
Before Giraud knew it he was safely in the Netherlands and shortly after that he was back in France. Unfortunately, Edith Cavell and her network were discovered by the Germans and she was executed in October 1915. She had helped over 200 Allied soldiers escape captivity.
Is that the end? He escaped so that must be it. Wait, that story didn’t have bedsheets tied together! What gives? We were promised bedsheets! Control yourself, dear reader, the story doesn’t end there. We’re just going to fast-forward about twenty-five years.
In May 1940, the now-General Giraud was commanding the French Ninth Army against another German invasion. However, this invasion was moving much faster than anyone anticipated and while Giraud was inspecting the frontlines he was subsequently surrounded and forced to surrender. Again.
Now, the Germans knew that Giraud was sneaky due to his previous escape so they placed him in Königstein Fortress which they believed was escape-proof. It housed a number of important prisoners so the guards were extremely vigilant, it was deep inside German controlled areas, and the place stood right beside a goddamn 150-foot-cliff.
For two years Giraud studied and memorized a map of the area, he learned German, he managed to communicate with the outside world, and he smuggled copper wire into the prison. This guy was a fucking over-achiever.
On April 17, 1942, Giraud waited for the guards to leave the area and lowered down his hand-made 150 foot rope of bed sheets, twine, and the smuggled copper wire. Bear in mind that this guy is 61 years old and still limps around due to his First World War wounds. Regardless, he made is down the cliff safely, shaved his trademark moustache, donned a disguise, and met up with a pre-arranged Special Operations Executive (SOE) agent who provided him with further clothes, money, and train tickets.
It wasn’t long before all of occupied-Europe was on the lookout for the now two-time escapee. He was a high-value prisoner and the Germans wanted his ass back. Nevertheless, Giraud managed to evade his pursuers and reached Switzerland safely. Once he was safe, he telegrammed his wife: “Business concluded excellent health affectionately Henri.” It seems kind of boring but it’s the exact, word-for-word, message he sent her after he escaped prison in 1914. That’s objectively awesome.
The one that got away…
One aspect I personally think tilted the The Battle of Britain (the struggle for air supremacy over the British Isles from July-October 1940) towards a British victory concerned downed pilots. Throughout the course of the battle over 900 Germans were captured after being shot down. The British? None. It makes sense though, the Brits were fighting over home turf so if one of their planes was damaged or disabled there was a decent chance the pilot could bail out, land in friendly territory, and fight another day. On the other hand, if German pilots or crews bailed out over Britain they were most certainly captured. For all those battle-hardened, well-trained airmen the war was over and Germany would have a hard time replacing them. Or would they?
Enter Franz von Werra, a 26 year old German fighter pilot who was indeed captured during the Battle of Britain after his plane crash landed. Upon exiting the wreck Werra was immediately forced to surrender to an unarmed military cook.
During his time as a prisoner in Britain he would attempt to escape numerous times. I’m not going to get into all of them but the funniest one saw him escape through a tunnel (classic) before getting his hands on a pilots flying suit. From this point he started pretending to be a Dutch pilot as a way to explain his accent. This ruse got him onto a train, past security, onto a military airfield, and all the way into a fucking plane. Seriously, Werra was in the cockpit trying to learn what all the knobs and buttons did when someone realized he shouldn’t be there and shoved a gun in his face.
Sensing that Werra wasn’t going to quit trying to escape the Brits decided to ship him (and thousands of others prisoners) off to Canada in January 1941. Let’s see what this wise guy does with an ocean separating him from his buddies, eh?
Instead of being deterred, Werra saw being transferred to Canada as an opportunity. You see, at this point the United States was still neutral so Werra figured all he had to do was escape and head south. Once reaching Montreal the prisoners were put on a train but a short time into the journey Werra and several others hopped out a window and made a break for it. All were quickly recaptured except for Werra who wasn’t noticed missing until the following afternoon. By this time he’d made his way to the St. Lawrence River which, lucky for him, had frozen over enough that he simply walked into New York state.
Once certain he was in the United States he turned himself into the police where he was charged with entering the country illegally. And that’s it. The German consulate happily paid his bail and helped get him down to the Mexican border. From there he took an exotic journey from Rio to Barcelona then onto Rome and finally back to Germany in April 1941. Tell me that wouldn’t make one hell of a movie montage.
Werra was the only Axis pilot to have successfully escaped from North America and make it back to Germany to continue fighting. That’s right, Werra was welcomed as a hero but was soon back on active service and in a fighter plane. In October 1941, Werra took off from the Netherlands on a practice flight where it is assumed his plane suffered some sort of engine failure over the North Sea. His body was never recovered.
Northern Ontario probably ain’t looking too bad now, eh?
Based in the basement 