大象传媒

My father Francis James Hill wrote in 1982 (original now held in Imperial War Museum Archive) -

Carvin, N. France. May 1940. For days the British Army had been going past our billets travelling east to Lille and beyond. Eventually we had orders to pack and be ready to move off the next day (May 20th).
We had about eighty vehicles and moved of at dusk expecting to turn east but instead, to our surprise, we turned west and took the Arras road. With so many refugees on the road we only got to St Pol by dawn where we stayed in the grounds of a large country house for three days. When St Pol was being shelled by the Germans we moved off in the night for a few miles to a similar position. Before getting under the trees a German spotter plane saw us. Later that day the German armour was positioned in a coppice a few hundred yards away.
Volunteers were asked for to draw their fire, whilst the convoy escaped. Fortunately I volunteered. The convoy was ambushed just around the bend and about eighty were killed, the remaining sixty or so taken prisoners. We were chased across a field by a German tank and took refuge in a dense wood. Our dispatch rider came along the road and told us the C.O. had been killed and we were to make our way to Dunkerque. (I finally got there thirty years later).
We decided to split up into smaller parties to simplify concealment. (A 303 Lee Enfield was useless against tanks and armoured vehicles). Three of us went off and because the only bridge across the canal was destroyed we decided to head west and finally catch up with our troops. (This proved to be the right decision because the 51st Highland Division made their last stand at St Valery-en-Caux).
On the 4th day we saw the German troops heading for Calais and some time later heard some shellfire and dive-bombing. The next day we saw a lot of German transport coming south down the Calais road and thought they were retreating. In our excitement we ran across a field to a country road and before we could get over the gate a German staff car came round the corner.
1st question 鈥淲here are your armies?鈥�.
2nd question 鈥淗ave you eaten?鈥�
We stayed with this convoy all day until we were handed over to the local headquarters at St Omer where we spent the night in the Hotel de Ville. Next day we were marched to another place on the outskirts of the town where we were joined by some more British and Dutch. Afterwards over the next three days we slept in a field, Amien鈥檚 town jail and some army barracks at Cambrai. Next move was by train through Luxembourg to Trier, where we stayed overnight in a large camp on top of a hill, overlooking the River Mosel.
By this time there were a few thousand of us. We did not get much in the way of food and drink, but we had plenty of walking exercise!
The next day we were back on the train, locked wagons this time and guarded by German Military Police. After two nights and most of two days we arrived at Torun (Thorn 鈥� German name). We were taken to Fort 17 and allocated accommodation! (A patch of straw each). Everybody was issued with a card to register with the International Red Cross (important) also a mess tin (most important). It was a calamity if you lost it. This held a ladle of soup at midday and a ladle of coffee in the evening. Bread ration was a loaf between ten. As knives were forbidden because they could be used as a weapon (my nail file was confiscated for the same reason) we only had spoons. We sharpened the handle to use for cutting. To ensure that all had equal portions we found that the width of our German identity plate was an ideal measuring stick, being more or less equal to our bread ration. To make doubly sure that all was fair and above board we placed ten black playing cards on the ten pieces face down and drew a card each from the corresponding red cards. This also applied to the other rations and later when we received Red Cross parcels.
The other rations alternated daily being margarine (about 陆 cubic inch) three times a week, a spoonful of sugar once, sausage once and a spoonful of jam or honey once 鈥� nothing on Sunday (that being a rest day so we did not need the extra vitamins).
We were issued with a card by our section leader for soup ration. This card had the German emblem printed on both sides. On the second and third days for 鈥榤ittag-essen鈥� (we had learned this word by this time) we found we could split the card to make two (therefore double ration). The first ladle full burnt our mouths, but if we were quick enough we could get round the second time before it was all finished. When the Germans found that the soup container did not meet the requirements of the camp without heating up a second lot, they stood guard to prevent us from coming round a second time. Everybody had to be in the queue before the cookhouse opened (about 4,000 of us) and then the guard prevented anybody else from joining on.
In between mealtimes the main topic generally in these early times was food. We started playing bridge and we played almost continuously for these first few weeks. The only other activity was dodging the guards, getting through a little window into the cellar and filling a haversack with potatoes, pinching wood from another place and then roasting the potatoes. My second time on rota I filled my pockets as well and then could not get through the window!
At the beginning of August my number was called (7760). I was one of three hundred to go on a working party. This was English August Bank Holiday (I think it was 4th August).
We journeyed by train for a few hours (actually it was only about 50 kms) to Bydgoszez (German name, Bromberg). A short distance out of the town (2-3 kms probably) we came to a camp on the edge of some trees, which proved to be a forest of some considerable size. We marched in and were allocated beds, twenty to a large room, ten to a small room. These were in four blocks which also contained a dining room, kitchen, workroom for cobblers and tailor, hospital and two small end rooms, one for the camp leader and interpreter and one for the medical officer, who joined us some weeks later. Luxury surroundings after our last few weeks 鈥� two tier bunk beds with bed boards and straw palliates and pillow plus white sheets, blue and white check pillowcase and a blue & white check blanket cover. We found at a later date that the camps for the German civilians working on the site were identical except for one thing. Over the serving-hatch in the dining room of the German camp there was a swastika and the phrase, roughly translated, 鈥榃e thank our leader for what we have received鈥�. The camps had been built by the contractors of the project 鈥� Dinamit Aktten Gesselschaft.
During the first few months the Germans broadcast music in the dining room and also 鈥楲ord Haw Haw鈥�, but they were asked to discontinue this practise.
We were on this working party for nearly two years. Our job was to clear lanes through the forest, level the ground (i.e. remove hills and fill in valleys). The only mechanical means being a small diesel engine on tracks to move the skips from filling to emptying and a winch to uproot the tree stumps which we operated by pushing a wooden pole round to which was attached a wire hawser on a reel, which was anchored to another tree stump of larger size and not excavated. Eventually railway track was laid by civilians and we had the job of packing ballast under the sleepers.
Various acts of sabotage were done, but the ultimate was achieved when we were packing ballast under the sleepers. At a time when the supervision was some distance away, those of us working on the left only pretended to pack the ballast, those on the right packed it under firmly. Just as we were putting our coats on to go back to camp a large steam locomotive came down the track. When it got to our bad workmanship, the sleepers sank on the left side and the locomotive toppled over. The driver fortunately jumped clear. Our sergeant said 鈥淔all in chaps, lets get moving.鈥� The guard said, 鈥淪top or I fire.鈥� The sergeant replied 鈥淜eep going chaps, he can鈥檛 shoot us all.鈥� The guard then shouldered his rifle and followed us back to camp. We found very often that the German soldier, by himself, would not defy us if he could see we were determined to do things our way. It was a chance we took many times over the years and never had a fatality.
Twice during this period there was some tightening up of security for some reason. First time we did not go to work for two weeks except to unload railway wagons and then we had two guards for ten men. Second time we had to change into Dutch clogs when we were out at work, even though there was a twelve foot fence all round the forest where we worked except for the entrances which were guarded by 鈥榖lack guards鈥� (SS).
We worked 56 hours per week during the summer (finishing early on Saturday). During the mid-winter when the days were short we worked all day Saturday to bring our working week to 54 hours. Lights out in the camp was
10 o鈥檆lock so we had very little time for sport and entertainment. Even so we had various activities going before the end of 1940. With a bit of help from the German in charge of the canteen, providing we had sufficient 鈥榣agergeld鈥� he would get us musical instruments, stage make-up, wigs and sports equipment. I raffled 50 cigarettes for 鈥榣agergeld鈥� and bought a piano accordion. Later I also had a mandolin.
鈥楲agergeld was camp money which was payment for the work we did.
By mid 1941 we had obtained music and scripts through the Red Cross to put on more ambitious shows. Musicals and Agatha Christie plays always went down well. The front rows were occupied by the Germans.
We also had evening classes on various subjects. I taught mathematics for a time.
Early April 1942 I needed dental treatment due to a wisdom tooth causing an abscess. As the dental surgeon was not due to visit us I was returned to Thorn (Torun) transit camp, Fort 13 this time. About six weeks later I was sent on another working party to bring the existing camp up to full strength of fifty-two.
This was situated at Forden a few kms east of Bydgoszez. The 鈥榗amp鈥� was a large house adjacent to the brickworks where most of us worked. There was also a small party of twelve working in the sawmill about ten minutes walk away, nearer the town. The River Vestula ran parallel to the road at this point and only about fifty yards from the camp.
We were in the centre of the black market. Red Cross parcels, letters and individual parcels were arriving regularly. We bought a powerful three wave band radio with which we received the B.B.C. nine o鈥檆lock news regularly. There were fixed prices for various articles 鈥� 5 cigarettes would buy any of the following 1 egg, 陆kg sugar or 1 kg flour. A bar of soap or 2 oz bar of chocolate had the same value. 1 white loaf was 10 cigarettes, 1 rabbit or chicken was 20 cigarettes. A bag of tomatoes or grapes were ours for a handful of cigarette ends. During mid-morning break we got out our thin slices of bread liberally coated with Canadian butter and cheddar cheese or salmon. The Germans got out their thick slices of bread with a scrape of margarine and a minute piece of sausage. Afterwards we got out our full packets of tailor-made cigarettes. The Germans got out their home-grown or rough tobacco and rolled a very thin cigarette. We did more in those half hour鈥檚 to undermine local German morale than Monty did in North Africa.
Christmas 1943 we had huge stocks of contraband by Christmas Eve, sackfuls in fact. Chickens, rabbits, Danziger wein and schnapps were the principal items. The German Kommandant knew we were dealing on the black market and the feld-webel came to our sergeant and told him that he was expecting a Gestapo search party (he had been warned by a colleague from another camp) and we should take all the things we had bought into the camp in the last few days and hide them in the factory. We left the white bread and a packet of custard powder for them to find. Knowing the German ways by this time it was obvious they would tear the place apart if they found nothing. The bread was left on the table. They moved this on to a bench to turn the table upside down and made no comment! We assumed they may be looking for radios, compasses, maps and German marks and did not notice the bread was white.
I think this period was the turning point of the war in German eyes. They were now on the losing side and they were more lenient and lost most of their arrogance. We went so far as to tell our guard he was in the wrong army and borrowed his rifle to demonstrate the British method of arms drill. We were still escorted to and from the camp, but once at work we hardly ever saw the guard, because we were spread out over a wide area in one鈥檚 and two鈥檚. Consequently we could converse freely with the civilians, Polish & German. Evenings and weekends between early June and mid-September, at a cost of 1 cigarette each a guard would sit on the river bank for an hour or so to let us swim in the river. The only rule was that we did not go round the bend and that we did not stop to speak to the Polish girls who came to watch us. I did in fact exchange letters with a Polish girl and she frequently sent me a white loaf by a Polish colleague whom I worked with. She would never accept payment because as she put it 鈥楾hat is one less for the enemy鈥�. I never had the opportunity to speak to her, but I did write after I got home, but never had a reply.
A German civilian I worked with during the last nine months used to tell me not to work too hard and he always shared his breakfast with me (even though I probably lived better so far as food was concerned).
I worked adjacent to the road/rail bridge over the Vistula and I kept a check on the transport to and from the eastern Front. This information was never used because the war was finished when I got home. Although shortly before the German offensive in the Ardennes in 1944 there was a big build up of rail traffic coming from the East, mostly armoured vehicles and tanks. I thought at the time that they were retreating but shortly afterwards the B.B.C. announced a major German offensive in the Ardennes. I could only assume that the divisions I had seen were being used for that purpose.
The last few months in Forden we had a new Kamp Kommandant. He introduced himself and told us that he had been a 鈥榮chwein鈥� to the British in a previous camp, but they had planted Red Cross articles in his kit and then reported him for stealing it. He had spent a spell in a Strafelager and now he would be a 鈥榞ute mensch鈥� to us. He kept his word.
January 21st 1945. This was the really bad period for those of us who were POW鈥檚 in the East. We were told to pack and be ready to move off in one hour. We were locked in and were unable to contact out Polish friends in any way. We moved off in the early afternoon and arrived in Bydgozez just as darkness was falling. It was pandemonium. German troops struggling through the snow, thousands of German civilians with carts piled high with their possessions, staff cars towing armoured vehicles to save fuel, SS and German police with revolvers drawn shouting at everbody. Twice in that first week we had to move off in the middle of the night because the Russians were down the road. The Germans billeted us wherever there was a building suitable. During this time we were joined by many more British POW鈥檚 and a thousand or so Russian POW鈥檚. One night for six hours we marched through a blizzard, the Russians leading. They were dropping dead on the side of the road as they walked. Of course they had not had the protection of the Red-Cross and they had been starving all their POW life. After three weeks with very little food, probably some bread and a capful of steamed potatoes three or four times a week we were clear of the Russian advance and were able to rest for one day. The Russian POW鈥檚 were no longer with us. Some of us slept in a stable with the horses 鈥� it was warm in there. Two Sikh POW鈥檚 killed a sheep and after cutting off what they wanted the rest was shared amongst us. I carried my piece for ten days before I could cook it. The Germans half heartedly searched us but never found a pound of mutton.
Eventually we arrived at the estuary of the Oder and sat down to wait for a ship. We had visions of being evacuated to Sweden, but all we got was a ferry across to the other side. We continued our march across Germany via Schwerin, Celle and Hanover finally reaching Springe which is on the main road to Hamelin (of Pied Piper fame). By this time there were only 120 left of the original 800 of our party which left Poland. The remainder had been left behind in various hospitals on route. By this time I was suffering from dysentery and malnutrition. I was taken to a German doctor in town (whose wife was American) and he offered to keep me in his house until the Allied troops arrived. This was forbidden. Four days later we were on the move again. This time heading east, back to Celle and beyond. We stopped in a small village, I never knew the name but it was probably ten Kms or so east of Celle. We stayed there until we were liberated by the US army.
The Americans commandeered a bus, filled the tank with fuel and told us to go to Celle where the British were in occupation. The journey involved traveling through parts where fighting was still going on. One of the fitter POW鈥檚 traveled with us and sat on the bonnet with a Union Jack. Inside we were a mixed lot, British in need of medical attention and our former guards, now disarmed. For a short distance we ran the gauntlet between Allied troops on one side and Germans on the other. Of course our troops held their fire when they saw the flag. Eventually we arrived at Celle and were taken to the local schloss which was being used for repatriation of POW鈥檚. After a meal of steak and chips, washed down with rum, we were taken to a German hospital for the night. Next day we returned to the same building until aircraft was available. I vaguely remember seeing a newsreel with Churchill featured in one of the news items. Next day army wagons came to take us to Celle airport. I do not remember much of this period except at one time I was in an American cookhouse looking for apple pie. Finally aircraft came and we were flown to Brussels and were told a civic reception had been laid on for us. When we arrived in the city I asked a Boy Scout to take me to a doctor, who arranged for an ambulance to take me to a hospital which was occupied by our Medical Corps. After three days there I was ferried on a stretcher by air to England and then by train to Wharncliffe Emergency Hospital, Sheffield from where I eventually got my discharge at the end of July.

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