A novel of escape which, in its cleancut, undeviating singleness of purpose, is reminiscent of Geoffrey Household's Rogue Male and which, in its accuracy of detail, is suggestive of an actual experience. It is the story of Peter Howard and John Clinton, R. A. F. officers in a German prison camp, and their decision to get under the wire -- which many had attempted unsuccessfully. There are the more than three months of tunnelling through the sand -- camouflaged by the wooden horse they had set up as a vaulting game; the problem of getting rid of the sand from their day by day digging; the final escape as they get through, jump a train to Frankfurt, head further for a Baltic port. And there is the constant anxiety of their raw-nerved days, exhausted nights, as they frequent the docks looking for a ship, stalk the cafes to make a contact, until they are finally picked up by the French resistance, stow away to Denmark and find safety in Sweden. The determination, the drive gives this its excitement which is occasionally edged off by humor. Men particularly should like it.