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The Escaping Club (1922)

door Alfred John Evans

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One evening in the long hot summer of 1959, Alfred Gardner was walking home along Commercial Road. Noticing a woman who had collapsed, he ran to a phone box to call an ambulance, only to be beaten to it by an older man. Chance encounters often spark friendships, and this was to be the start of one spanning thirty-seven years. They were an unlikely duo. Gardner, in his late teens, had never journeyed far from Stepney, whereas Upson, in his early thirties, had already had an extraordinary life. For Gardner, the Second World War conjured vague memories of returning from evacuation in Hartlepool in 1944, to a Stepney under threat from Germany's V1 and V2 rockets. Upson, meanwhile, had faced far greater dangers when the Japanese Air Force bombed Rangoon. In 1942, at the age of fifteen (having taken up smoking and drinking to appear older), he had joined Burma's tiny navy. Nearly twenty years later, as they wandered the streets, pubs and clubs of the East End, the lives of these two friends were enriched by a fascinating cast of characters. There were exotics such as Red Boots Danny and the reforming East End cleric Father Joe Williamson, and celebrities like Clint Eastwood, who they used to see enjoying a quiet drink at the Waterman's Arms. And Upson seemed to know everyone. His friend watched, amazed, as men and women, old and young, sprung forward to shake his hand and greet him.… (meer)
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The Escaping Club (1922) is one of many POW escape memoirs that appeared in the years immediately following the Great War. It is among a handful that are (or were) considered "classic" in the genre, or at least very popular at the time. Today most of these books are forgotten, hardly competing with the thrilling stories of WWII (The Great Escape, No Picnic on Mt Kenya). However, WWII soldiers were aware of the older generation, having grown up with the stories of escape, so these early books were influential in setting the stage and establishing tropes and expectations that are still familiar today. The bumbling German guard impotently wags a reproachful finger at the precocious prisoners; the stern camp commander who is over his head and looses his temper; the trickster prisoners escape and are re-caught with little repercussion as they receive food in the mail from home complete with maps baked into cakes and compasses in pickled prunes. Many of the core elements would be familiar to anyone who watches Hogan's Heroes, except a different war.

My favorite part is the 10 days in which Evans and friend clandestinely made their way south across Germany to the border with Switzerland. This is his best writing as he describes the beautiful but dangerous German countryside. Sleeping during the day in forests and traveling by night they skirt villages and avoid encounters with people while supplies of food dwindle.

Unfortunately Evans ruined his chance at immortality by espousing some racist views towards the end of the book while being held prisoner by the Turks in Syria. Perhaps someone will eventually rescue it for the modern reader by retelling it from a new perspective, there's a good story here though uneven. ( )
1 stem Stbalbach | Feb 26, 2015 |
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» Andere auteurs toevoegen

AuteursnaamRolType auteurWerk?Status
Evans, Alfred Johnprimaire auteuralle editiesbevestigd
Weiss, TomVertellerSecundaire auteursommige editiesbevestigd

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One evening in the long hot summer of 1959, Alfred Gardner was walking home along Commercial Road. Noticing a woman who had collapsed, he ran to a phone box to call an ambulance, only to be beaten to it by an older man. Chance encounters often spark friendships, and this was to be the start of one spanning thirty-seven years. They were an unlikely duo. Gardner, in his late teens, had never journeyed far from Stepney, whereas Upson, in his early thirties, had already had an extraordinary life. For Gardner, the Second World War conjured vague memories of returning from evacuation in Hartlepool in 1944, to a Stepney under threat from Germany's V1 and V2 rockets. Upson, meanwhile, had faced far greater dangers when the Japanese Air Force bombed Rangoon. In 1942, at the age of fifteen (having taken up smoking and drinking to appear older), he had joined Burma's tiny navy. Nearly twenty years later, as they wandered the streets, pubs and clubs of the East End, the lives of these two friends were enriched by a fascinating cast of characters. There were exotics such as Red Boots Danny and the reforming East End cleric Father Joe Williamson, and celebrities like Clint Eastwood, who they used to see enjoying a quiet drink at the Waterman's Arms. And Upson seemed to know everyone. His friend watched, amazed, as men and women, old and young, sprung forward to shake his hand and greet him.

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