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15 October 2014
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A Rhodesian Pilot's Story - Chapter 2 - Life in a POW Camp

by Allan Hurrell

Contributed by听
Allan Hurrell
People in story:听
Allan Hurrell
Location of story:听
Stavanger, Norway and Stalag VIIIB Larnsdorf ober Silesia
Background to story:听
Royal Air Force
Article ID:听
A4037005
Contributed on:听
09 May 2005

In Chapter 1, I related how I was shot down near Stavanger, Norway in May 1942, and spent several months recuperating in hospital in Norway. I was then sent to Dulagluft (the Luftwaffe in-transit camp) at Frankfort-on-Oder, where I was allowed to join other prisoners in the barracks.

Sent to Stalag VIII B

We were soon on our way across Germany to permanent POW camps (Stalags). The journey was tedious and uncomfortable, but luxury in retrospect, as we later learned that many prisoners were transported in sealed cattle trucks for days on end, often with little or no food, or toilet facilities.

Our intake from Dulagluft was sent to Stalag VIII B Larnsdorf Ober Silesia. This was a large camp holding some 14 000 army prisoners, mostly non-commissioned officers. We were all RAF prisoners in our intake. All RAF officers were sent to Sagan (a Luftlager), the infamous camp and known worldwide from the many escapes. 鈥淭he Great Escape鈥 was the most memorable and a blot on the Germans because of the 50 airmen who were shot on recapture. A great number of books have been written on the activities and courage of the inmates of Sagan Luft III.

The reason there were about 1,000 RAF prisoners in this large army POW camp was that at that time there were insufficient Luft (air force) camps. All non-commissioned
air crew were incarcerated in a special security compound within Stalag VIII B, completely separated from all the army or navy POWs, virtually a prison within a prison. It was mooted that eventually we would be moved to Luft camps but we never did. After our arrival, only the odd RAF prisoner joined us, which was a loss inasmuch as news of home was very limited.

Soon after my arrival, I met up with a Canadian Observer in the Royal Canadian Air Force, Phil Bridgeman from Calgary. He had been shot down flying, in a 鈥淲impy鈥 Wellington bomber, on one of the first 1000 bomber raids over the Rhine, which had taken place some 3 陆 months after my adventure! We became great friends, and after 60 years, still keep in touch.

Camp Life

Each barrack in the camp consisted of two long rectangular buildings joined end to end by a wash house with showers (which only worked satisfactorily if the pressure was high enough) and cement wash basins which were built in. In the barracks there were three tiered wooden bunks, housing 120 men, and the other section the same. In total there must have been 7 or 8 such units. Inside, the furniture consisted of one table and 2 benches for 10 men.

The toilet facilities consisted of one large building completely separate from the barracks, situated adjacent to the parade ground. Built over a sump, the latrine was a 40-holer. Fortunately it was never full at one time. There was no drainage; the fluid content was removed by a hand pump into a bowser-like vehicle drawn by a horse. The slurry was used for fertilising the agricultural fields in the area. This removal operation was done by the Russian prisoners under guard (a large Russian POW camp was situated quite some distance from us). Phil and I collected cigarette 鈥渟tompies鈥 (butts) for the Russians which were much appreciated as they saw no tobacco in their camp.

The kitchens were outside our compound and were run by army POWs. From the kitchens our daily rations were distributed to all the barracks in the camp. The normal daily routine was:
1. The arrival of hot to warm mint tea, usually awful and rarely drinkable, but it was useful for shaving
2. Soon after, the speakers erected on poles throughout the camp would be blaring out, ordering all prisoners to attend parade for the daily count. We had to form up in columns of five. This head count was a very serious matter for the German guards, to ensure that no-one had escaped during the night. It was also an opportunity for the POWs to annoy the guards, by moving about inside the ranks, so being counted twice. This caused much confusion amongst the 鈥楯erries鈥, their tempers were quickly inflamed, and there was much shouting and waving of revolvers, and threats of disciplinary action. The counting could on occasions, especially in the summer, take several hours. In winter it was often too cold to mess about for long. Of course, if any POWs were missing, we had to remain on the parade ground until all the barrack rooms had been searched etc.
3. After the count, rations would be issued from the kitchens. Black bread (one loaf to five), boiled potatoes for each set of 10men, which worked out to about 6-8 potatoes each, depending on size, and rarely some margarine was also issued.

At midday the keebles would arrive. These were large wooden open topped barrels of soup for each barrack. This usually consisted of swedes and cabbage, or just plain non-descript soup. It was ladled out by the barrack leader, or ration king, individually to all men. Sometimes small portions of meat could be found in the soup (often it was horse meat).

Once the soup had been distributed, there would be a rush of men with spoons to scrape out all the remnants of soup stuck to the side of the keeble (usually a dozen or so POWs). These people were known as the 鈥渒eeble scrapers鈥 which became a somewhat derogatory description for anyone beyond the pale.

As I have mentioned before, we divided ourselves into units of 10. One member for a week took on the duties of dividing the potatoes and bread into 10 separate lots. Named cards were then 鈥榗ut鈥 and placed before each of the rows of potatoes and portions of bread. It was an essential factor to ensure that the food was distributed as evenly as possible. Tempers were easily aroused in some people if they thought they weren鈥檛 getting their fair share. Hunger can produce some very distressing arguments, and rarely, even fights. However on the whole we made sure that in our section tolerance and friendship were paramount.

Food Parcels

There were times when the Red Cross parcels managed to reach the many POW camps. These were a Godsend and were instrumental in saving many lives. Unfortunately distribution was very erratic for long periods. Each parcel was shared between two. The Canadian parcels were very good, as were those from England and Scotland, but as the latter two were from rationed countries, they contained slightly less variety. The Germans punctured all the tinned food (jam, meat, condensed milk, soup, margarine, etc) to ensure we could not store if for escape purposes. The Canadian parcels contained tins of spam, a large tin of Klim powdered milk and hard tack biscuits. The Scottish parcels always contained porridge oats. There was also chocolate in all parcels. As can be imagined, these goodies were very quickly eaten up. Items like tea and sugar were made to last as long as possible. Canadian cigarettes were a boon to smokers, and also to non-smokers as they became the main source of currency in the camp. 80 cigarettes to 1 tin of Klim was the going rate.

Medical Facilities and Daily Activities

Medical and dental services were provided by captured doctors and dentists who worked in the Stalag hospital. They made the best of the limited facilities and drugs. Only on one occasion did I spend a few days in the hospital with a relapse bout of malaria. It was a change to get away for a little while.

If one had toothache there was no chance of having a filling, unless prepared to wait for a year or so. Extractions, however, were done on a daily basis. All POWS with toothache would parade in the morning at the dental clinic. The orderly sergeant would take your name and note the position of the aching tooth. This was passed to the British dentist (also a POW) who then injected anaesthetic into the appropriate place. You would then go back into the line-up while the others received injections, thus giving the anaesthetic sufficient time to act. After several minutes your name would be called, the sergeant would, from his record, tell the dentist the position of the offending tooth, and before you knew it the tooth was out. The dentist must have pulled out literally thousands of teeth and certainly was very expert. Very rarely there were cases when the wrong tooth was extracted.

One of the various activities in our block was reading books supplied by the Red Cross. These were in great demand and all had of course been passed by the German authorities. My fianc茅e Doreen had sent through Rhodesia House a number of text books on biology, chemistry and animal management, all necessary for 1st year veterinary studies.

Once the gates in the RAF compound had been opened, it was possible to join various study groups already active in the main camp. I joined a small veterinary class run by a New Zealander who had a degree in Equine diseases and management. He had qualified in the United States but was not allowed to practise as his US qualification was not at that time recognised in Commonwealth countries.

Also the theatre centre produced plays and variety shows which were well attended. One of the leading actors was an RAF airman Denholm Elliot, who after the war featured in many films and on 大象传媒 programmes.

As mentioned previously, contract bridge was very popular and many a competition was organized. A Canadian friend, George Rodney, and I usually managed to win many of these. The fee for entering was 2 cigarettes, so the first prize could mean up to 100 cigarettes, the main source of currency in the camp.

George Rodney was a pilot who had been shot down in his Kitty-Hawk fighter plane. In civilian life he was a professional baseball player. He suffered a horrendous wound to his right shoulder blade. Once it had healed, he started practicing pitching baseballs, day after day, until his right arm regained its former strength. After the war he returned to a successful career as a professional player.

In the main camp was a larger open-topped reservoir tank filled with water to be used in case of fire. One morning a body in British army uniform was found floating in it. No one knew who it was. Most likely it was a German agent who was in the camp to report on escape plans and document forging activities, and had obviously been found out by the camp escape committee.

We were only allowed to write 2 letters (a small one page form) and 2 postcards per month, which were heavily censored, so one could not say much but at least our families would know that we were still alive.

Soccer games took place at fairly infrequent intervals. Also a game if rugby was played, a South African team versus the rest. The match took place on the parade ground which had not a blade of grass, but only rock hard ground. Needless to say, very few rugby games took place.

Another activity was 鈥渢in bashing鈥, conducted mainly by budding tin smiths. It was incredible the number of articles these fellows could make: pots and pans, jugs, cups and ladles, all from tins from Red Cross parcels. Perhaps one of the most popular and ingenious was the 鈥渂lower鈥, a furnace type contraption made from Klim tins, with a fan operated by a wooden wheel with a handle. This handle would force air through a fired enclosed grate on which was placed a little water, and a type of fuel could be used. It would take less than one minute to boil 1 陆 pints of water. As can be imagined, it was very popular amongst POWs as we had no heating facilities in the barracks.

The bed bunks were made of wood, with the base lined with bed boards. We were supplied with paliasse mattresses made of straw-filled Hessian bags. The straw was removed and discarded as it was very dusty and prickly. The Hessian was laid over the bed boards, and after a while one became hardened to sleeping on these. Bed boards were used to line tunnels and for fuel, so more often than not one had an incomplete set. They had to be so arranged to fit one鈥檚 body, i.e. head and shoulders, hips and knees, with gaps in between. The Germans refused to replace missing bed boards. Many POWs converted their bunks into hammock-like structures.

Each barrack housed about 120 men. At times noise was a big factor but in time one became adjusted to ignoring the tin bashing, shouting, conversations, arguments, etc.

(See next chapter.)

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These messages were added to this story by site members between June 2003 and January 2006. It is no longer possible to leave messages here. Find out more about the site contributors.

Message 1 -

Posted on: 23 September 2005 by Drosophilistophile

Thank you for relating your gripping story! I really hope that you write the next chapter soon. Thank you & your comrades so much for all you did.

Message 2 - Rhodesian Pilot's Story

Posted on: 29 September 2005 by Allan Hurrell

Thank you for your words of encouragement. All 4 chapters of my story are on the website - I hope you can find them!

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