Escape from Stalag 22

Under the cover of darkness, I begin to execute my plan. I gently inch my way across the cell careful not to make a sound. If I am caught, it will be 30 days in the cooler for sure. I cannot be seen. Another day in the prisoner of war camp is more than I can bear. Guards are posted at various areas around the camp. I am careful not to draw attention to myself as I crawl along the wall. Darkness is my friend, light my enemy. Two sentries are posted at the entrance marching back and fourth in unison. Their eyes trained to notice anything out of the ordinary. I wait in the darkness. My patience and planning have paid off. The guards are changing, now is my chance. I quickly move from one wall to the next. Oh no, I kick a rock. The guards turn to see where the sound came from. I freeze, not even breathing for what seems like an hour. Slowly, the guards go back to their posts settling into their routine. Beyond them I see freedom. I can almost taste it. I am to close to fail now. Be alert, stick to the plan. I am by all of the guards and working my way to the perimeter. I am going to make it, I am really going to make it. I can’t believe it! Three feet and I am in the trees and to safety. “Halt!” The light hits my back and I freeze. I turn around to see my captor standing no more than a foot away. My cause is lost. I hold out my hands to receive the handcuffs that come with a prisoner returning to his cell. “Did you get the painting done in the kids room?” I nod. “Come back into the house, I want you to see the wallpaper I picked out. And for heavens sakes, put your arms down you look silly.”


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