After the war I corresponded for a time with the French people that helped us escape. We finally arrived at Carantec very cold and very scared. Once the Kraut walked around the truck and lifted up the canvas and shined his light in, but was far enough to the rear so that all he saw was oyster baskets. Every few miles after that incident we were stopped and went through the same routine, and each time I thought we had had it.
#MAIL PILOT BURIED IN GUYMON OK DRIVER#
Apparently the driver knew what to tell the Kraut. After a few minutes we took off down the road. My heart was hammering so loud I'm surprised the Kraut didn't hear it. The driver had a conversation with the guard, or whatever he was. We had not gone far when we were stopped by Kraut patrols. We were headed for the coastal town of Carantec. After some conversation which I didn't understand, the driver took off down the road. They then piled the baskets back so again the truck looked like it was completely loaded.
#MAIL PILOT BURIED IN GUYMON OK MAC#
They removed some of the baskets and Mac and I crawled into the front part and laid down on the floor of the truck box. When they loaded the truck they left space in front of the truck box for us. From the rear it looked like the truck was completely loaded with the baskets. They had these baskets stacked across the rear of the truck bed so that they completely filled the back of the truck box. These baskets were a 2' x 3' rectangle frame made of 2" x 6" lumber nailed together with a mesh screen nailed on the bottom. The truck was a canvas covered type loaded with a lot of oyster baskets. We crawled out from under the straw and transferred to the truck. Who would be hauling straw at that time of the night? Perhaps they were mostly concerned that none of the towns people knew about us being there rather than concern for the Kraut Gestapo. I thought it was strange that they took us out of the town under the straw in the cart at that time of the night. We managed to get out of town without any trouble.Ībout a mile or so out of the town we met a truck. I remember being scared as we rumbled along, because I expected the Krauts to pull us out from under the straw at any moment. The cart had no springs, so it was a rough ride over the cobblestones. The cart and us, under the straw, left the town of Le Cloitre. "I am writing this for those of you that would like to share with me a few months of my life, a very long time ago." This fascinating story was published in two parts.
The assistance of the French underground, and his eventual return to England.Ĭopyright © Vogel Family, all rights reserved, used by permission. Part II Personal account of his experiences while evading the Germans in occupied France, Submissions of 303rd Bomb Group related stories and articles are most welcome. To unsubscribe, please reply and request removal. Having trouble viewing this email? See the online version here.
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