大象传媒

P.O.W. PUSSY

This story is a true recollection of what occurred in Stammlager 4B in mid 1945.

I was strolling round the inside of the double barbed wire with another bloke who like myself was wearing a pale blue R.A.F. uniform.

He knew I was Tom Barker of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders and not the real Harry Tenny.

I had been with a lot of other Brit soldiers who were being marched from Stalag 404 Grossbeeren to another camp but we had got side tracked to this camp now to get a shower and be fed.
On the morrow we were to be back on the road again until our final destination was reached.

But whilst in the showers I had swapped identities with one Harry Tenny who was a Sgt Engineer in the R.A.F. but now a P.O.W. held permanently in this camp.

Tenny went out of the camp the next day dressed as Tom Barker with a happy smile on his face because he had plans to escape.

I had tried many times and ideas during my first two years of captivity that bore no fruit, so I thought, 鈥淲hat the hell?鈥�
鈥� Tenny was so persistent that he should be allowed to find out for himself that we were no longer kids playing Cowboys and Indians.鈥�

The only trouble was though, if Tenny got caught and his fingerprints checked, it would only be a matter of time before the Germans latched onto me and then the manure would really hit the fan.

I suddenly realized that since Tenny was outside he had a fifty-fifty chance of escaping.

If I did anything wrong the Goons knew immediately which bed and barracks to look in and then discover I was not Tenny but actually Barker and we both would have been beans in the soup.

Now I was the one trapped behind the wire with no idea what was going to happen next.
The monotony was sometimes interrupted when a group would get together and we would get to watch a play in the Camp Theatre.

However, one day the monotony was interrupted by a group of young R.A.F. stalwarts who had found a pet cat that had wandered possibly from the German cookhouse or guards barracks.

The group of four young men entered the wash room and sealed the drain hole in the long concrete trough that I was washing my shirt in under a running tap.

I noticed the cat one of the chaps had it in his arms and was stroking it, and it looked content.

One of the other lads walked along the row of about six taps above the concrete trough and turned them all on.

When the water began to spill onto the floor the same chap turned all the taps off.
Then suddenly the bloke with the cat stopped stroking it and grabbing it by the scruff of the neck he dunked the cat under the water and held it there.

I could see the cat struggling and moved to get to it but the others barred my way with a snarled, 鈥淚 suggest you mind your own business old boy!鈥�

Then I was overjoyed to see the cat could indeed look after itself, as the water suddenly seemed to boil and turned red.

The chap who had been holding the cat under the water suddenly stepped back and the cat surfaced chewing on one of his thumbs while all its claws on it鈥檚 front feet were clamped to his wrist and the back feet were going like a two stoke piston on a lawn edger and raking skin and flesh from his wrist.

鈥淕et the bladdy thing off me!鈥� he was now screaming.

Suddenly the cat let go and was off.
Unfortunately at the time this wash house was one of the few that had windows that had been fitted and they were all closed so the cat did the next best thing, it found a place to hide, but was soon found by the searching four louts

The chap now nursing his mangled hand and wrist kept to the back of the pack and let the other three try their luck.

One got the bright idea of removing his jacket and used it as a shield, then when the cat made a dash from its hiding place our hero whacked the jacket over the cat and
wrapped it up so it鈥檚 claws were no longer a danger.

The whole bundle was then plunged beneath the water until the bubbles stopped.
When the water was still the jacket was pulled out and unwrapped.
The cat appeared to be dead.
Then one of the lads took hold of the cats back legs and swung it round striking the cat鈥檚 head on the end of the concrete trough and after a soggy thud blood appeared on its muzzle and the cat began to struggle again but another thud against the concrete killed it outright.

I looked on and remarked, 鈥淚t took four of you to kill
some bodies little pet cat, and for what?鈥�

鈥淲e need protein old boy鈥� remarked one of the oafs, 鈥淲e plan to escape and need all the help we can get鈥�

I answered, 鈥淵ou have only been here about a month, you don鈥檛 even know what hunger is yet鈥�

鈥淚 suppose you do鈥� snickered Sir Lout

Then later that evening I heard the same voice in the barrack room, 鈥淎nyone give me five cigarettes for this delicious rabbit leg.

Tom Barker 1st A & S H P.O.W. 12244 1941/45 Germany.

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