大象传媒

The snow was drifting down and it was cold, and at the back end of 1944 it seemed to be cold every where and when we heard news, sometimes we would get news from a Guard or Ferret.
A Ferret was a Guard who having been wounded and was bi lingual was employed in a P.O.W. Camp to look for anything untoward the inmates were doing or saying, then he would stuff it up for them.
But I think now we had got to a stage in the War where a lot of them were beginning to see the light and when the Fuhrer would address everyone over the loudspeakers one could see a Guard who had stopped to listen then turn and with a shrug and would mutter, 鈥淵a, ya, wier haben es alles ein mal gehurt鈥� (yes yes, we鈥檝e heard it all before) and waddled on like a disgruntled duck looking for a pond to jump into if it wasn鈥檛 frozen over already.

I was walking round the wire, on the inside that is, and the bloke who was walking with me was negotiating a blower, he wanted me to make him a little machine made out of tins that gave off heat like a miniature blacksmiths forge and was very handy for brewing up because it only burnt a few twigs that could boil our small brew up tins very quickly and that just happened to be our favorite pastime. It also prevented our reproductive gear from snapping off should we try to get through a door that would not open any wider due to frozen hinges or banked up snow.
And whom should we meet up with but Hans, well, we didn鈥檛 know his real name but we called him 鈥楾he Hands鈥� to begin with, but it got corrupt to Hans because he was expert in searching.
On one search someone warbled casually, 鈥淐or lummy, luk at 鈥榚m 鈥榓n鈥檚 goin鈥�, e鈥� can search me anytime,鈥� and the name stuck, and from that day everyone referred to this particular Ferret as Hans.

Hans was fluent in French and a little Russian, the odd word in English and when called he would correct the bloke calling and reply, 鈥淣ein nein , ich bin Gustav, (no no I am Gustav) but in the end he gave up trying to correct us and if some one shouted to him, 鈥淗ey Hans鈥� then he would stop and turn and ask, 鈥淵a?鈥� and the bloke would ask, 鈥淲hen yu goin鈥� tu tek yu syanide pill鈥� and like most Germans who didn鈥檛 understand much English but would pretend they did, or were so sick of having their leg pulled, then the stock answer would be, 鈥淵a ya, morgen wielleicht?鈥� (yes, tomorrow perhaps)
Then muttered, 鈥淢erde鈥� as he carried on walking.
Sometimes Hans paused in his nature walk, and because he recognized me he knew he didn鈥檛 have to get the Interpreter, 鈥淣a Junger, was machen sie den?鈥�( now boy, what are you up to) and I replied, 鈥淲ir sind spazieren nach den Russischer Front 鈥�( We鈥檙e taking a walk to the Russian Front), one could be forgiven for having a laugh at this pidgin German but it got results sometimes, and one could glean from some of these blokes tit bits which when fitted together gave a good overall picture of what was happening because if one believed all the bullmire that was coming over on the German news like, 鈥淭he German Army has got a pincer move on Venus, und ve hef already occupied Mars.鈥�

One of our Geordie lads shouted back one day, 鈥淗ey yu Kraut g-t, Ma will be pleased, an鈥� yu cin come an鈥� see me , ah鈥檓 a big mate o鈥� Walt Disney, ah cin git yus Pluto fer nix鈥�
Well we knew Jerry had a flying bomb, but Mars and Venus, do me a favor please!

Hans continued with his German lip exercise and suggested we didn鈥檛 even make a joke about going to the Russian front where thousands of good German Soldiers were dying every day, then he pointed to the knee high single wire that was three yards inside the main wire and wagged a finger, 鈥淎ber nicht da spazieren, verstehen sie鈥�( but don鈥檛 walk there, understand) and two heads nodded and in unison, 鈥淵a ya鈥� and so we parted company with Hans the Ferret.

When we got back to our hut we passed on the conversation to others, and one bloke putting a tin on his blower with a view to making a hot cup of tea said, 鈥測ea well they are the best kind ain鈥檛 they, dead Jerries, tot, kaput, f ---n鈥� finito, mafeesh, backshee,鈥�
鈥淵ea alright mate, calm down, we got the bleed鈥檔鈥� message鈥�, came a voice from up top of a bunk.
Then another posh voice joined in with, 鈥淚 take it you don鈥檛 particularly like the dear old Hun?鈥�
Another day we walked and the bloke with me said. 鈥溾�檈re look at 鈥榠m then鈥� and this bloke over the wire in the Russian compound was sitting in the snow and weeping while doing a kind of bowing and clasping his hands together in despair over this other bloke with bare feet who must have been crouching out of the icy wind behind the barracks, but he had finally given it away and departed this life, and his body must have keeled over because now he lay like some one sleeping with his knees pulled up.

Others must have found him and taken his foot-ware, but the bloke hovering over him with his face awash with tears would stroke the hair of the dead man and pat his shoulder as if to assure him he would feel no more pain.

And as I looked at this scene of abject misery I could almost feel what that bloke had gone through, until he must have thought in Russian, 鈥淏ugger this, I鈥檝e had enough 鈥� and he would know that if he fell asleep that would be the end.

So he just did it, and now all the Swastikas and SS soldiers with their whips and cudgels didn鈥檛 matter anymore.

It was as simple as that, well for him it was, but what about this obvious mate, or son, brother or father who was here now weeping over the still, frozen body, he now had what was already a heavy burden added to by what had happened here, perhaps he was now alone to face what?
鈥� Come on mate, we can鈥檛 鈥榚lp 鈥榠m, said the bloke with me, who looked a bit peaked by this particular slice of life that had just fallen off the platter of time.

We trudged back to the barracks, and because our fuel ration had been cut off as punishment for escape attempts, all the glass in the windows were iced over due to the condensation inside.
I agreed to make the bloke a blower and told him to come back tomorrow, and as soon as he was gone I did on impulse, because I was an impulsive bloke, grabbed a packet of biscuits from my parcel and went back to the perimeter wire which was a single strand of galvanized wire about knee high and had no sharp spikes on it and it was supported by inch by inch wooden posts hammered into the ground about ten feet apart and about a yard away from the main double barbed wire and the bloke was still there so I shouted to him and held up the biscuits and threw them over when he looked and had obviously seen me through the wire.
They landed in the snow near him and as he picked them up he kissed the packet and held out his arms as a gesture of gratitude through the wire, then he was gone.

I looked round with a feeling someone was watching me, and I was next to the perimeter wire which if one crossed the Tower Guards had orders to shoot.

We always kept well clear of the perimeter wire because after an air raid some of the Guards had been known to be a bit trigger-happy the following day.

I don鈥檛 know why but I suddenly looked at the Guard tower, I sensed someone somewhere was watching what I had done, and the Guard in the tower was leaning on the edge of the woodwork with his elbows where the nose of a machine gun poked over, and he must have watched the whole thing, and as we looked at each other he slowly put up his glove covered fist and his thumb was sticking up, He must have been a Christian because he then turned and went to the other side of the tower and gazed over at the woods in the distance and I thought, 鈥� Well done God! at least this lavatory has one clean toilet roll in it鈥� and I went back to the cold barracks and my bunk with its sack of straw and one thin blanket.

T.O.B.1997 1st Bn A&S.H.

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