Colditz Castle: The incredible escape attempts from WWII's most iconic POW camp

During the early months of the war, the German military identified Colditz Castle as an ideal site for a high-security prison.

On a rocky outcrop above the Mulde River, the fortress had long fulfilled various roles, including royal residence and hospital.

After briefly functioning as a political prison in 1933 and later a mental institution, the castle was converted in November 1939 into a prisoner-of-war camp.

As a result of its elevated position and heavy masonry, the structure matched the Wehrmacht’s requirements for detaining repeated escapees. 

Under the designation Oflag IV-C, the castle began housing officers who had already attempted escapes elsewhere.

Among the first were Polish captives taken during the September 1939 campaign.

Over the next few years, French, British, Belgian, Dutch, and Czech prisoners arrived.

Later in the war, captured American officers were added to the population. Among them was future Nuremberg prosecutor Airey Neave.

(It must be noted that British fighter ace Douglas Bader was often mistakenly associated with Colditz and was actually held in other POW camps but never imprisoned at the castle). 

In each new group, trained specialists and seasoned escape planners brought distinct strengths.

From early in their captivity, they began to examine guard routines and to measure structural dimensions, and they noted guard patterns. 

However, the concentration of so many determined escapees in one location created a self-reinforcing culture of resistance.

Among the inmates were engineers, pilots, linguists, and craftsmen whose knowledge became central to planning complex escape operations.

At its peak, the prison held around 300 to 400 officers, with more than 600 from over ten Allied nations detained there over the course of the war. 

To German authorities, Colditz appeared immune to any escape. Above a steep slope and hemmed in by sheer cliffs, the castle had a single access road, a deep moat, and walls of thick stone.

Around the perimeter, barbed wire and floodlights formed a second barrier that cut off every possible route to the outside. 

Inside the castle, guards patrolled hallways, towers, and courtyards with care. At all times, lookout posts kept watch from the upper floors, and sentries rotated frequently to prevent predictability.

Security checks, surprise inspections, and routine searches kept prisoners under constant pressure. 

In addition, the Germans installed listening devices in communal areas to monitor conversations and sometimes placed informers among the prisoners.

Any discovery of forbidden items: wire, wood, cloth, or ink could result in solitary confinement or the removal of privileges.

Despite these conditions, prisoners relied on supplies from Red Cross parcels to add to their food and source materials for escape efforts. 

Even so, Colditz never completely silenced its inmates. Escapers studied guard movements, observed building layouts, and shared knowledge of weaknesses in the security structure. 

Prisoners coordinated one of the most sophisticated underground operations of the war.

Under a system led by national “Escape Officers,” each nationality contributed men to a cooperative structure that approved escape plans, assigned roles, and prevented interference between projects.

Prominent Escape Officers included Pat Reid for the British, Captain Pierre Giraud for the French, and Hans Larive for the Dutch. 

Each prisoner used his existing skills to support escape attempts. Carpenters built false walls and hatches, artists forged documents, and tailors crafted fake German uniforms.

Workshops that were hidden operated in locked rooms and behind concealed panels. 

Importantly, the lookout system, known as the “stooge network,” became essential to survival.

These volunteers, who stood at stairwells and vantage points, signalled the approach of guards using discrete gestures or code words. 

At times, prisoners pretended that their efforts were theatre rehearsals or concerts.

Loud noises covered the sound of sawing, and musical performances gave cover for smuggling materials between rooms.

In several cases, entire escape routes were built beneath stage sets. 

As each man understood the consequences of discovery, rules stayed strict.

Escape plans followed detailed schedules, and trust between participants developed from shared risk and daily cooperation. 

In 1941, Lieutenant Alain Le Ray of France became the first man to escape Colditz successfully.

He waited for nightfall from a hidden spot in the cellar; then he climbed a wall and reached the forest behind.

He then navigated the occupied territory before he crossed into Switzerland. 

Soon after, British officer Pat Reid led a group of three men through a hidden exit beneath a workshop.

The men lowered themselves with ropes made from bed sheets and slipped outside the walls.

Once in civilian clothing, they crossed southern Germany and reached Switzerland unnoticed. 

One risky attempt involved Dutch officers in full German disguises. Officers Damiaen J. van Doorninck and Hans Larive simply walked out the main gate, dressed in Wehrmacht uniforms.

They moved through checkpoints and crossed into the Netherlands by using forged travel orders and false identity cards. 

Another prisoner, Flight Lieutenant Dominic Bruce, tried to smuggle himself out in a laundry basket.

Although the plan failed, his repeated escape attempts earned him admiration from both inmates and guards, though he did not receive formal decorations for his escape attempts. 

Overall, more than 130 escape attempts were recorded at Colditz, with 32 men managing to reach Allied territory.

Remarkably, no prisoner was ever shot during an escape, a fact that distinguished Colditz from many other POW camps. 

In the final year of the war, British prisoners constructed a glider in the attic above the chapel.

Nicknamed the “Colditz Cock,” the glider measured over nine metres in wingspan and used bedsheets, floorboards, and porridge paste to form its skin. 

Under the leadership of Lieutenant Tony Rolt and Flight Lieutenant Bill Goldfinch, the project developed from a smuggled book on aeronautical design, "Aircraft Design" by C.H. Latimer-Needham.

The glider took shape in secret over many months while it remained hidden behind a false wall.

Regular noise from musical rehearsals masked construction sounds. 

To launch the glider, the builders created a runway and catapult on the roof. A bathtub filled with concrete, attached to a pulley, was meant to work as the launch mechanism.

Once released, the glider would have flown across the Mulde River and landed in a nearby meadow just outside the castle walls. 

In April 1945, with the aircraft finished and conditions favourable, the prisoners awaited their chance to fly.

However, before the plan could be tested, Colditz was liberated by American forces.

A 1993 Channel 4 reconstruction of the glider later proved that the design was flight-capable. 

As the war approached its final weeks, the situation inside Colditz grew tense.

German forces faced collapse, and rumours of SS reprisals against POWs spread rapidly.

Officers inside the castle feared that a last-minute order might lead to executions or a violent standoff. 

Fortunately, the German authorities reached an agreement, with security officer Oberstleutnant Reinhold Eggers playing a key role in helping them speak with British senior officers.

He made contact with the British senior officers and arranged a peaceful surrender.

German soldiers left the area before Allied forces arrived. 

On 16 April 1945, troops from the US 69th Infantry Division, part of General Omar Bradley’s command, entered Colditz without resistance.

The prisoners, though relieved, remained cautious and waited for instructions before celebrating.

After liberation, the men were sorted and sent home and many later published their stories, which brought Colditz into public memory.

The castle was later used as a hospital under East German rule before being converted into a museum in the 1990s.

Today, it preserves the walls of the prison as well as the determination and cleverness of the men who refused to be broken inside it.