The Diary

23 April 2005: Psssst! The Big Break's Tomorrow - Pass It On!

Hi, chaps:

Just a few quick words about what?s been happening in our camp just lately. All the talk of the abort (that?s the latrines, to you) has been about the Big Break, due to take place tomorrow. All very hush-hush, at the moment, so don?t go spreading careless talk where the goons might be listening; after all the hard work Big X has put into it, along with his fellow members of the Escape Committee, of course, we don?t want to ruin it now, so when you?ve read this, for Chrissake lose the bloody evidence.

Yes, you were quite right, Robbo is the wizard running the show now, but I?d much rather you kept that under your hat for the moment. Since he fetched up in this camp just before last Christmas, he?s gone through all our escape plans like a dose of salts. Just as well, really, because when he came, morale was shot to hell, quite frankly; the goons were outguessing us at every turn, the bloody ferrets had eyes in the back of their heads, and every single break we tried was being rumbled. That was our low-point, but since then, Big X has taken every single scheme we had running by the scruff of the neck, and we?ve some very keen types indeed involved now. You?ve heard about the dummy-runs we?ve been laying on these past few weeks? Good show; every stunt we learn from, and the more we stage, the more we learn about the goons and what they might throw at us to stop us making a home run. One wheeze we?ve already spotted is the number of trip-wires they?ve placed around the place, and they?ve all got nicknames, apparently ? ?Southampton?, ?Crystal Palace?, ?Norwich?, that sort of thing. It keeps those in the goon towers amused, I suppose.

What gave Big X the most concern, though, were the problems with the tunnelling team. I suppose you?ve heard about Pilot Officer Greening, the type with the long hair and the straggly beard, the one who does a bit of Bible-bashing with the Padre. Looks a bit like Jesus himself, some would say, but I wouldn?t really know; the thing is, he got into a bit of bother with the Kommandant the other Sunday ? that idiot Oberfeldwebel Styles; you know what he?s like ? and now he?s got three weeks in the cooler. A bloody bad show all round, really. Big X was furious when he got wind of what had happened, and tried to argue it out with Herr Oberst, said his chap had done nothing to deserve it, but the Hun was having none of it. That means we?ve lost a bloody vital member of the digging team, and just when we needed him as well. And that?s not the only problem we?ve had here. At appel ? roll-call ? yesterday, we ended up two more chaps down. Horsfield, the heavily-built type in the next hut to ours, was one, and young Richardson the other. Had to take both to the Artz, turned out one had a dead-leg, and the other a bit of a bashed knee, so that?s them both looking a bit doubtful for tomorrow?s break. Mad as hell they both are, but they?ll both be there to provide moral support. There?s the lad Chaplow we can use, of course, but he only came here just a couple of months ago, and he?s never been given a place in such an important stunt as this before. Keen as mustard to give the old Hun what for, of course, but he?s not been a kriegie long enough to really know what?s what. He did cope very well when we gave him that last-minute stooging job by the wire the other night ? it?s not easy to remain calm when you?ve got Jerries running everywhere, and searchlights blazing like crazy ? but he did, so there might well be a place for the kid in the first eleven to break after all. There?s Koumas in reserve also, but is he really up for it? We do have some doubts about the poor chap?s morale, shall we say.

Now this is the real reason why I asked you to make sure you destroyed this note ? I?m going to let you in on the plans for tomorrow, so don?t any of you chaps dare let me down. If we can pull this stunt off, it?ll be one hell of a poke in the eye for the Wermacht. So bloody arrogant, they call themselves ?The Premiership? these days ? but we haven?t half got a punch on the nose waiting for ?em. If all goes well tomorrow, we should be getting around 3,000 bods out, and that in addition to the eleven chaps actually doing all the digging. The real hard work starts at nine tomorrow morning, and it?s going to be more of a dienst ? a ?shit-or-bust? job ? rather than a stunt we can take our time over. The emergency rations have all been taken care of; everyone?s been saving their Red Cross parcels like crazy, and the SBO ? the one with the bald head, name of Peace ? he?s promised to lay on some big eats before we actually make the break. Tea, coffee, that sort of thing ? and he?s even managed to ?acquire? bread and bacon from somewhere! The cookhouse is going to be rather busy tomorrow morning, I suspect.

How is it all going to work? I think the idea is for everyone to make some noise ? lots of it! ? as a diversion while the actual break takes place. We?re all going to go mob-handed, so expect to hear lots of singing, shouting, clapping; anything to make the goons feel complacent, really. And while we?re all doing all that, the actual eleven bods in the tunnelling team will be hard at work, of course. As I said, they?ll be really going at it hammer and tongs, and the more noise we make, the more they?ll be spurred on. As The Horse can?t help in the digging any more, I expect Big X will have to go with Flight Lieutenant Campbell and that Colonial chappie Kanu. He might have come into the service at a rather late age, and he?s a bit long in the tooth for being locked up in one of these places, but since his capture, he?s proven to be one of the most hard-working and intelligent types on the entire Escape Committee. A shame he got injured early on, and couldn?t do all the digging work he would have liked, but now he?s OK, Big X has grabbed him again. His experience of other attempts in the past will prove invaluable. Being a keen sort of bod as well, young Earnshaw will be busting a gut to get onto the digging team, I expect, but we?ll probably need all his energy and enthusiasm when one of the two other diggers I just mentioned begin to flag. A good ninety minutes they have to spend down there, and what with some of the tunnelling team being a bit older than the rest, and all the strenuous physical effort and nervous tension the scheme involves, not all of our chaps have the necessary physical and mental stamina to cope with a full shift.

Just to show what a cosmopolitan lot we have at this camp, we?ve even roped in a Japanese chappie to help with all the soil dispersal further back. He hasn?t been here all that long; in fact, he first fetched up at this Oflag late last year, but was quickly sent somewhere else on a temporary basis. He?s back now ? and since then, he?s proven to be a jolly good type all round. Had it not been for the goons rumbling him on Wednesday night, he could well have got some of us out then. Heard about the crazy little Hungarian we?ve just persuaded to give us a hand? Zoltan?s his name, and he flew for their air force for a bit before landing up here, but he hates the Hun just as much as we do, and can?t wait until tomorrow comes to give them what-for. The same goes for the tall quiet Danish lad who will be kept busy keeping an eye out for stray goons creeping up when we least expect ?em; what with him and Big Dave Moore around, no matter what the ferrets get up to, very little should get past us, really. Houlty? He?s our Number One Lookout King tomorrow, which is just as well. With all the experience he?s had elsewhere, he?s just the pukka sort of chap we need to pull this entire stunt off.

So, there you are. Tomorrow should be quite a lively affair, which means the atmosphere in the camp will be somewhat tenser than usual, of course. So vital is the success of this tunnel to our future morale, we really do need to get one over Jerry, and in fine style, too. Can?t wait to see the look on their faces when they finally realise their bloody trip-wires are all totally useless, and we?ve got past ?em without breaking sweat, even. If we do manage to get away, then we should be praising Big X to the roof; had it not been for him, the whole lot of us would have been sent to a much tougher place by now, and left to rot there for all the goons cared. I hope it all works out, as he?s had some pretty hard decisions to make since taking over the Committee. It can?t be an easy job, and it?s not made any simpler by having to listen to some of the crazier ideas he gets given, sometimes ? then being diplomatic by letting them down gently. Take the daft one he heard about the other week, for example. I might have known it was a harebrained Yank scheme; wire-happy chap called McQueen suggested it, apparently, wants to get out through our tunnel, steal a motor-bike from somewhere, then make it to the Swiss border that way. As I said to Big X on the circuit the other week, it?s a bloody daring idea, and the sort of thing Hollywood would absolutely lap up like gravy twenty years after the war?s finally over, but no ? it would never work!

PS. You heard about Old Ginger, our previous SBO? The old latrinogram?s been active about what he?s been doing, lately ? and it isn?t good. It seems a few of the lads in his new camp brewed up some moonshine in their hut on the QT, then went on an almighty toot with the stuff last Wednesday night. Bad show all round, really. Trouble was, they got so squiffy, it got a bit out of hand, glasses smashed, and all the other poor bods in the hut shouted and swore at, that sort of thing, and now the entire lot of em are in the cooler. Heaven help ?em, though ? if the goons don?t half-kill them, Ginger will!

But, seriously, folks?.. Less than 24 hours to go before the game that could well determine whether, just like those mediaeval suspected witches and those who sat in judgment on them, we sink or swim come May. Nervous? Not half; something tells me there isn?t going to be much sleeping done in GD Towers tonight. I have the welcome distraction provided by penning this daily piece available, so goodness knows what?s going through the minds of other supporters right now. And as for our players, who travelled to the Teeside area immediately after Wednesday?s game, what hopes, what fears, run through their minds as they toss and turn in a strange hotel room tonight? Sure, the cynical might argue it?s just a day?s work for them, and a lucrative one at that, but having closely watched the totally spontaneous reactions of our first team squad each and every time we grabbed the spoils against all the odds, just the sheer joyousness, exuberance and spontaneity of their body language tells me it?s all for real. They genuinely do want to do their level best to keep us up, and collectively rejoice each and every time our ultimate goal draws nearer. That?s true team spirit for you; forged on the anvil of mutual respect, and master-smithy Robbo deftly wielding the hammer, and stoking the flames to the max by actually treating his charges like adults, not wayward children; compare and contrast that with the many demoralising and dispirited performances we were churning out just a few months previously. Of mutual respect there was not one scintilla, only a rapidly-burgeoning ?bully-and-blame culture? which naturally gave rise to that well-known boon companion of no-hopers, abject fear.

What a turnaround we?ve seen these last few weeks, and if there?s any such thing as natural justice left in the world, we?ll come out of all this smiling our bloody heads off. Whatever we?ve been watching recently, you certainly can?t call it Championship-level football. Our continually-blossoming skills, our newly-discovered tactical nous, our willingness to knock the ball around, prove incontrovertibly that the Premier League is where we must be next season, and given a modicum of luck, that?s the way it should pan out. Think of us tomorrow, all you exiles reading this; while you?re watching on the box at some ridiculous hour in the morning, or getting commentary via the internet, we?ll all be going through agonies at The Riverside, all 3,000 Baggie travellers. Thought can be a powerful weapon, sometimes, and we need all the help we can muster, right now. Let?s just hope it?s a joyous piece I?m writing on my return; after everything that?s happened this season, that?s the least we Baggies deserve. Tally ho, chaps, chocks away ? and bally good luck to everyone!

 - Glynis Wright

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