Skip to main content

Jack in a Box Otto

 

Otto Koehn was a Dorchester prisoner of war nicknamed ‘Jack in a Box’ for his extraordinary exploit. He was a distinguished-looking young man with fair hair and a slight fair moustache. Just 22 years old, he wore a pince-nez. Travelling on a Dutch vessel from the USA to Germany, Otto had been arrested when it berthed at Falmouth. At the start of World War I, he was interned in the prisoner of war camp at Poundbury just outside Dorchester. This was a large camp with as many as 4,500 German and Austrian prisoners.

No sooner had Otto arrived in Poundbury, he started to scheme his escape. The opportunity arose when he heard that a group of elderly interns were being sent back to Germany, for humanitarian reasons, as a part of a prisoner exchange agreement with the British. They would travel to Tilbury by train and join the steamer, SS Batavia. After arriving in Rotterdam, they could easily return to the Fatherland.

In the prisoners’ canteen Otto bought a box which had contained matches for which he paid five shillings (25p). Stamped across it was ‘Matches non-poisonous.’ The case measured just three feet by two feet by two feet. He then acquired a lid, staples and a padlock. Otto was a strapping six feet tall man but he still planned to escape hidden inside this packing case. He made some ingenious preparations to minimise the hardships of the journey. He padded the box with a rug and also smuggled in a small pillow containing oxygen in case of an emergency. He then climbed in and the unlikely package was sealed by a fellow prisoner. The escaping German officer had stuffed his pockets with bananas, chocolates, dates, biscuits and some cheese. He also found room for an old champagne bottle which he had filled with cold cocoa. There was a roll call twice daily in the Poundbury Camp and when Otto Koehn’s name was called someone always called out ‘present’. Otto travelled to Tilbury as ‘luggage belonging to some elderly Germans who had permits to return to their country.’

All went as planned until the party arrived at Tilbury Docks where the unlikely package had to be loaded onto the SS Batavia. The deck of the vessel was slippery and one of the men lifting the case slipped and let it fall. When it struck the deck, the lid opened and the fugitive was revealed. To the surprise of the stevedores, a tall, well-dressed but quite dazed German officer emerged from inside the case. Otto put his hand in his pocket, took out his pince-nez and placed it on his nose. One of the dockers remarked:

‘He looked so comical when he came sprawling out on the wet deck that for the moment we could not help laughing.’ Another added:

It was a regular Jack in a Box business and there was just that spice of reckless devilness about the German officer’s act to make him a hero in our eyes.’

Hand cuffed and surrounded by guards with fixed bayonets, Otto was returned to Poundbury. As he descended from a train at Dorchester station he was welcomed by a large crowd of onlookers. Back in the prisoner of war camp he was penalised for his suffocating escapade by having to report personally to the office of the camp commander every hour of the day. The Gravesend & Northfleet Standard of 22nd January 1915 reported that a decision had been taken by the British authorities not to court marshal Otto Koehn but that he was being moved to a more secure camp on the Isle of Wight.

Had Lieutenant Otto Koehn survived just a little longer he would  have become a free man.

(Source: Western Guardian - 17th December 1914.)

Comments

  1. He has survived!!! Got out of there pretending he had seizures and was sent straight back home!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

True Lovers Knot - a Tragic Tale

True Lovers Knot public house describes itself as a traditional  inn set in a picturesque Dorset valley in Tarrant Keynston. Yet, this historical hostelry is said to have gained its name from a particularly tragic tale and still to be haunted by a distressed former publican. This publican’s son met and fell in love with the daughter of the local squire. Because the young lad was not from the gentry they decided to keep their relationship secret from her father. Unfortunately, a stable hand saw the two young lovers together and told her father. Set firmly against this friendship the squire made plans to send his daughter away from the district. Not able to face up to life without her boyfriend, the young girl decided to commit suicide and hanged herself from a tree in the village. So upset was the publican’s son of hearing of his girlfriend’s death he too hanged himself from the same tree. The Tarrant Keynston publican had, himself lost his wife at child birth and now losing his son b

Tarrant Rushton's Nuclear Secret

Tarrant Rushton was a large RAF base used for glider operations during World War II. It was then taken over by Flight Refuelling for the conversion of aircraft for the development of aircraft in-flight refuelling. However, between 1958 & 1965, the Tarrant Rushton airfield had a much more secretive and less publicised role. This was in support of the nation’s nuclear bomber deterrent, as Tarrant Rushton airfield became a QRA (Quick Reaction Alert) dispersal unit.   During 1958, contractors Costain reinforced the main runway and carried out other work to ensure the giant bomber aircraft could be accommodated. At times just a few miles from Blandford, there would have been up to four RAF Vickers Valiant bombers at Tarrant Rushton ready to become airborne in minutes charged with nuclear weapons. The bombers were from 148 Squadron at RAF Marham in Norfolk. As there was no suitable accommodation at the airfield, an old US Air Force Hospital building at Martin was used. At the time, the

Chimney Sweep Tragedy

Crown Hotel, Blandford is reckoned to be one of Dorset’s oldest hostelries. Yet its most tragic day, during a long history, must surely be when a young chimney sweep lost his life. The chimney sweep, who was just a child, suffocated and was burnt to death in a Crown Hotel chimney which had been alight a little while before. ‘His cries were dreadful and no-one could give assistance. Part of the chimney was taken down before he was got out.’ (Salisbury & Winchester Gazette 27th March 1780) The lad had gone up one chimney and attempting to go down another had become stuck. At the time children were used to climb up chimneys to clean out soot deposits. With hands and knees, they would shimmy up narrow dark flue spaces packed thick with soot and debris. After the 1731 Great Fire of Blandford it was realised that it was important to sweep chimneys regularly while many rebuilt houses had narrower ones. Smaller chimneys and complicated flues were a potential death trap for children. The sw