Ashenden's Escape

British Novelist William Somerset Maugham is a great believer in firsthand adventure as a source for fiction. He turned his own experiences as World War I intelligence agent into the spy novel Ashenden. Last week the aging, 66-year-old author had abundant material for a World War II novel accumulated during a 20-day voyage of escape from France in the company of 1,300 British refugees.

Forced to flee his British Ministry of Information job in Paris when the victorious German columns entered the city, Maugham made his way south through the chaos of collapsing France while London papers listed him as missing. For days he waited for some means of transportation, finally received orders to embark on one of two colliers sent to rescue British subjects from the Riviera.

"We were of all classes," said he, describing the flight for British Broadcasting Corp. "There were invalids, some so ill that they had to be carried on stretchers, but they had to be taken back and none knows to what fate because it was impossible to get them on ship. . . . We stood for hours on the quay and the heat increased. One poor lady died. We had to pass through customs--heaven knows why--and at last got on board.

"I was on the Saltersgate. Captain Stubbs told me to go to the first hatch. This hold was to be my living quarters until we reached Gibraltar. We started from Cannes in the evening and arrived at Marseille the next morning. . . ."

From Marseille the ships proceeded under French convoy to an unknown destination. Though one woman insisted on first-class accommodations and another searched vainly for the games deck, the passengers on the whole soon made the best of a situation that rapidly grew worse. "As we were short of water," Maugham continued, "little was available for washing. . . .

"Then the food began to grow scanty and toward the end we were reduced to a piece of bully beef and four biscuits for our midday and evening meals. . . . When we had gone out about three days submarines were sighted and depth charges were dropped. The escorting destroyers circled about for an hour, but there was no further sign of the submarine.

"As the long days wore on the strain became greater. Altogether four people went out of their minds. . . ." But at Oran the refugees' hopes lifted, only to fall again as the news of France's surrender made the possibility of internment imminent. "The passengers were exhausted. The conditions were bad. With insufficient and unsuitable food there was danger of epidemic. Some of the older people were only just alive. . . ."

The captain and ship's chandler were able to relieve the situation somewhat by increasing the stocks of food and tobacco in the town and that night they started for Gibraltar under another French convoy. But again they were unable to land. "Then many of us broke down. Women cried. It seemed too much to bear. An officer came on board and made us a speech explaining that Gibraltar was a fortress and that a large number of refugees had already passed through, that fifth-column activities were feared. . . ." Finally authorities relented, took off children, invalids and oldsters, allowed others enough time ashore to bathe.

"We sailed from Gibraltar on Friday morning and after a long and tedious journey we reached at last the blessed shores of England. We had been 20 days on the journey and hardly any of us had had our clothes off."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.