This poem is called Escape, by F/LT E.G. Bretell dated 12/4/43. Just prior to the poem, it is noted: “Whilst in ‘cooler’ – Stalag Luft III“.
61053 F/L E Gordon Brettell DFC, British, born 19-Mar-1915, 133 (Eagle) Sqdn (shot down 26-Sep-1942, Spitfire IX BS313), recaptured Scheidemuhl, murdered by Bruchardt 29-Mar-1944, cremated at Danzig. Details from this great site on the Great Escape: http://www.elsham.pwp.blueyonder.co.uk/gt_esc/. Note that he escaped, then was recaptured and murdered by the Gestapo.
I think this is amazing – it really captures the thoughts of those who were involved in the Great Escape:
“If you can quit the compound undetected,
And clear your tracks, nor leave the smallest trace,
Then follow out the programme you’ve selected,
Nor lose your track of distance, time and place,
If you can walk at night by compass bearing,
Or ride the railways in the light of day,
And temper your elusiveness with daring,
Trusting that sometimes bluff will find a way.
If you can swallow sudden sour frustration,
And gaze unmoved at failure’s ugly shape,
Remembering as further inspiration,
It was, and is, your duty to escape.
If you can keep the great Gestapo guessing,
With explanations only partly true,
And leave them in their hearts of hearts confessing
They didn’t get the whole truth out of you.
If you can use your “cooler” fortnight clearly,
For planning methods wiser than before,
And treat your miscalculations merely
As hints let fall by fate, to teach you more.
If you can scheme on, with patience & precision,
It wasn’t in a day that they built Rome,
And make Escape your single, sole ambition,
The next time you attempt it you’ll get Home.”