大象传媒

My Uncle Joe was one of the many who didn't get taken off the beaches at Dunkirk.

Uncle had joined a territorial unit of the Royal Artillery before the war, largely as a means of supplementing his meagre income form the allowance he received. In one way, he had followed in his father's (my Grandfather's) footsteps as he, too, had served in the RA in the First World War. Uncle undertook training at a camp in Somerset, where he spent the time largely under canvas. As a growing young man (he was about 19 at the time) he seemed to be constantly hungry and was always writing home to Mum (my Grandmother) asking to be sent food parcels!

He later found himself part of the British Expeditionary Force and was sent to France, where he formed part of a searchlight battery. He did not get off the beaches of Dunkirk and so was eventually taken prisoner of war. Uncle Joe was one of so many on the long march and ended up in Stalag 8B, where he spent the entire war. News of his whereabouts was some time in getting back to his parents who had several sons serving in the military during the war (interestingly, another brother, George, later served in the RA in Burma). When letters began to arrive home they gave some idea of camp life during those long years of captivity. On one occasion, as part of a working party mending roads, an elderly German woman approached him and wrapped a scarf round his neck. In another letter he (curiously) quoted from a song, saying, "You know that old song 'Don't go down the mines Daddy, there's plenty of coal on top.'" This, as it turned, out was a coded message about working down a coal mine.

Other information about his time in Stalag 8B is somewhat sketchy. He was taken to a nearby town where a dentist replaced two bad teeth with metal ones. He also referred to having seen railway trains with wagons loaded with people (presumably trains taking Jews to concentration camps). Towards the end of the war a couple of men were shot for going under the wire to steal vegetables from a nearby field. At the end, German guards just let them leave so he and others wandered around for some days until, as he said, "They found a uniform they recognised and gave themselves up."

Uncle Joe did not talk much about the experiences when he got home; perhaps he may have been somewhat resentful of his experiences. With his family he eventually emigrated to Australia under the assisted passages scheme, where he made a new life for himself and his family.

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