The Road to En-Dor

After we have marvelled at the endurance shown in "The Wooden Horse, and thrilled to the weekly plottings of "Colditz," can we be expected to be interested in yet another prisoner-of-war story? Especially if it all happened nearly seventy years ago? For readers with a skeptical interest in matters clairvoyant, the answer in the case of "The Road to En-

Dor" would have to be an emphatic "Yes". This book, by E.H. Jones, was originally published in 1919 by the Bodley Head, and it went through many printings. If my account intrigues, it might be found still in libraries or used book shops. It is well worth the search.

Jones was one of a number of British officers captured during the Mesopotamia campaign of 1916, and imprisoned at Yozgat in central Turkey. To while away the tedium of the idle life in the camp, a relative suggested in a letter from England, why not make a Ouija board, and try to communicate with the spirits? Desperate for some new amusement, the prisoners made a board, with its circle of letters, from the most highly polished piece of wood available (a packing case top), and found a glass tumbler that would slide around easily on the board. For weeks, taking turns two by two, with each man of a pair placing one finger on the glass, patient scribes noted down the meaningless strings of letters touched by the glass as it slid around the circle.

And then, in Jones's own words, when the party was on the verge of giving the whole thing up, "the Devil of Mischief that is in every Celt whispered to me", and presto, the glass immediately began to spell out sense, and a lively female spirit named Salty began at once to flirt with the woman-starved prisoners.

Such was the sensation created by this event that Jones did not dare to tell his comrades what he had done. Instead, his deception proceeded almost against his will, until not only the prisoners but the guards, and even the Commandant, were convinced Jones was in touch with the spirit world. This gave him the determination to persist, and to use the awe in which "The Spook" was held to arrange his escape.

During these developments, Jones found an ally in Hill, an Australian, and a skilled conjuror. Between them they astounded all with their "psychic" powers - finding hidden objects, "foretelling" the outcome of battles far away, and identifying possessions of fellow prisoners in the audience while blindfolded (the number of variations on "Now tell me what is this I have in my hand?" which can be used as a code is limited only by the memories of the two accomplices - Jones gives a table containing 80 items which he says is only one-sixth of their complete scheme).

The main object of dislike for the prisoners was the camp interpreter, a rascally fellow, and H. & J. took particular satisfaction in duping him, and using "The Spook's" influence over him to ameliorate their conditions.

This story from so long ago and so far away illustrates all the tricks we see practised by present-day "psychics" - cold reading, sleight-of-hand, the encouragement of credulity. The apparently most "scientific" of Jones's fellow officers, the doctor, was the most readily taken in.

"And what about the escape?" you will ask if you have read this far. Yes, H. and J. did get out of Turkey. How they did so is not only a story to rouse the admiration of skeptics, but is also a tale of hardship and heroism worthy of comparison with better known, more recent escapes.