Three Times and Out: Told by Private Simmons, Written by Nellie L. McClung

In Short

This narrative follows a Canadian soldier through his capture at the front and his subsequent imprisonment in various German facilities. Driven by an unyielding desire for liberty, he recounts his repeated attempts to escape, the brutal reprisals he faces in the "Strafbaracke," and his ultimate trek to the Dutch border. Part eyewitness testimony of the First World War's human cost and part psychological study of resilience, the book serves as a historical document that captures both the physical deprivation of captivity and the hardening of the soldier’s spirit.

The Story

The narrative opens on the chaotic, blood-stained reality of the battlefield, where the narrator is wounded and captured. He provides a stark, unflinching look at his initial days in German custody—the makeshift dressing stations, the indifference of the guards, and the grim atmosphere of the hospital huts. From the outset, the narrator establishes a tone of careful observation; he notes the specific cruelties of his captors and the quiet, desperate camaraderie shared among prisoners of various nationalities.

As he is moved to various camps, including the Giessen Prison, the narrative shifts from the shock of capture to the slow, grinding reality of internment. The narrator describes the arrival of spies, the scarcity of food, and the constant, stifling surveillance. He introduces his companion, Bromley, who becomes his partner in a long-standing quest for escape. Their first attempt is a frantic, rain-drenched flight that ends in failure and the harsh punishment of the Strafbaracke—a place of monotony and psychological torment designed to break the spirits of "desperate characters."

The arc of the book is defined by these cycles of planning, attempting, and enduring. With each failure, the narrator grows more methodical, learning to navigate the German countryside using smuggled maps and the cover of darkness. He reflects on the behavior of fellow prisoners, such as the Frenchman Malvoisin, whose own daring escapes highlight the shared, obsessive need to return home. Even when confined, the narrator describes the prisoners’ internal world—the ways they share food, hide contraband, and maintain a semblance of identity despite the dehumanizing effects of prison life.

The final act of the story centers on the narrator’s last, successful escape attempt. After meticulous preparation and the strategic use of Red Cross-provided overcoats, he and Bromley bolt from their compound. The journey is a high-stakes ordeal of physical exhaustion, dodging patrols, and subsisting on stolen potatoes. The tension peaks during close encounters with German civilians, where the narrator must rely on bluffing and sheer nerve to avoid recapture. The narrative reaches its resolution not with a grand battle, but with the quiet, profound realization of having crossed the border into neutral Holland. The book concludes with the narrator’s reflection on the future: he posits that the returned soldier, tempered by the fire of war and captivity, will emerge as a demanding citizen who rejects hypocrisy and shallow politics, pushing instead for a post-war society built on the foundational principles of brotherhood and honest dealing.

How It Unfolds

The capture The narrator is wounded in battle and processed through a series of ruinous, makeshift dressing stations. He observes the stark indifference of German officers toward the dying and begins to catalog the loss of his personal belongings.

The prison routine Confined to hospital huts and camps like Giessen, the narrator documents the daily struggle against hunger, spies, and lice. He details the psychological toll of internment and the first stirrings of his resolve to escape.

The first attempt Joined by his comrade Bromley, the narrator makes a daring nocturnal exit through a window. The flight is short-lived, leading to their capture and subsequent transfer to the Strafbaracke for rigorous, soul-crushing punishment.

The life of the prisoner Between escape attempts, the narrator explores the social fabric of the camp. He describes the kindness of fellow captives who share meager parcels and the cruelty of guards who use forced exercise as a weapon against dissenters.

The final journey After months of planning and map-making, the narrator and Bromley successfully bypass the camp’s perimeter. They navigate the German countryside through thick mist, bogs, and rivers, avoiding detection by a hair's breadth.

The road to freedom The duo finally crosses the border into Holland, shedding their status as prey. They find safety, food, and the profound relief of walking openly on a road, marking the end of their long struggle against the German machinery.

The People

The narrator is a sharp-eyed, stoic soldier whose primary motivation is the reclamation of his own agency. He is less concerned with grand military heroics than with the tactical reality of survival; he remains a disciplined observer, noting the hypocrisy of his captors while maintaining a quiet, inner defiance that ultimately sustains him.

Bromley, the narrator’s loyal comrade, represents the essential role of companionship in the survival of the prisoner. He is the partner in the narrator’s planning, sharing the risks and the burdens of their shared identity as "ring-men." Their bond is forged in the shared trauma of the Strafbaracke, and his presence is the anchor that prevents the narrator from succumbing to despair.

The German guards and officials appear as varied figures, ranging from the overtly cruel to the occasionally indifferent. The most dangerous among them are those who embody "anglophobia," while the narrator finds momentary safety only when he encounters those who prioritize their own ease or simple humanity over rigid adherence to prison regulations.

The French prisoner Malvoisin stands as an inspirational counterpoint to the narrator. His repeated, daring attempts to escape—marked by his cleverness and refusal to be broken—serve as an example for the narrator. His laughter and promise to meet in Paris demonstrate a resilience that transcends the immediate reality of his cell.

In Its Own Voice

"I remember thinking that this was the German estimate of human life."

The narrator observes a German officer’s cold, dismissive reaction to a dying Highlander, illustrating the grim reality of the prisoner's status.

"We ran as if the whole German Army were in pursuit."

This line captures the frantic, adrenaline-fueled start of the narrator’s first escape attempt into the dark, rain-swept German countryside.

"I'll tell you--this is not any ordinary war, where brave men fight each other."

A fellow prisoner, Edwards, delivers this sharp, impassioned defense of his desire to return home after being insulted by a guard.

What It's Really About

At its core, the book is an argument for the inherent value of liberty and the resilience of the individual spirit against institutional dehumanization. It explores the question of how a human being maintains a moral center while subjected to starvation, isolation, and the constant threat of violence. The narrator posits that freedom is not merely the absence of bars, but a state of mind that requires active, ongoing defense. Furthermore, the book acts as a bridge between the battlefield and the home front, arguing that the experience of the prisoner creates a new kind of social consciousness. The narrator suggests that those who have faced the extremes of war will demand a more transparent, equitable, and honest society upon their return.

Why Read It Today

This book will appeal to readers who appreciate firsthand accounts of historical endurance and the unvarnished perspective of a participant in the First World War. It is a slow, methodical read that relies on the narrator’s careful documentation of his surroundings, making it feel more like a personal diary than a traditional thriller. Readers should be prepared for the period-specific attitudes of the author and narrator, particularly regarding the German nation and the "anglophobia" they encounter, which are expressed with the direct, often blunt language of the time.

The writing is spare and precise, avoiding sentimentality even when describing scenes of great suffering or the simple joy of finding a piece of cheese. What stays with you is the sheer tenacity of the human machine—the way the narrator and his comrades turn the daily, mundane tasks of prison life into tactical maneuvers for survival. While it demands patience, the book offers a powerful, human-scale look at the cost of war and the unwavering, often irrational drive for freedom. It is a stark reminder of what individuals are capable of enduring when their only alternative is to surrender their humanity to their captors.