大象传媒

Free Meat

By
Donald J.R. Wilson
P.O.W. No. 13042 Stalag VIIIB formally 580878 R.A.F.

It was one of the strangest feelings, to have to flee from the friendly forces of the 1st British Army, knowing that they would eventually liberate us after five years captivity in prison camps. The anticipation of having a proper meal after years of semi-starvation, made the mouth positively water. It was exhilarating to hear the continual drone of aircraft engines, knowing that they were all allied types with no opposition from the Luftwaffe. We always knew that it was our pals imposing terrible retribution for past misdeeds. We started out from Termstadt near Bremen, keeping well in advance of the fighting in the West, between a Regiment of courageous brainwashed Hitler Youth, and a Scottish Armoured formation. It was later reported that they refused to surrender and had been wiped out by a Squadron of Tanks.

We proceeded along the road to Lubeck via Hamburg and stayed for a night in barns in the village of Ellenbeck. The local population kept well away from the prisoners but I noticed a young girl asking for chocolate (without success). Early next morning, having had a "cat lick", I was walking along the main road, which had thick and very old trees on a steep banking bordering the highway, when I heard and saw a flight of four Typhoons circling above the village. A very old lady with a walking stick was hobbling along the pavement beside me, apparently voicing her contempt for the English and their air gangsters.

I looked up into the sky just in time to see the leader of the section "sideslip" from the formation, closely followed by the other three Typhoons. They were diving in our direction, so I unceremoniously grabbed the old lady, throwing her somewhat roughly to the ground behind a very large tree, and laid on top of her. She did not appreciate my handling of the situation and continued to rant about the English devils. I was amazed that she could even think of her feelings, as 20mm cannon shells were stripping the branches from the tree above our heads and dropping them all around.

The attack was over in the space of a few minutes and peace returned to the village once more. Having recovered from the shock of the event, I assisted the old lady to her feet, but she was still cursing us as we looked around us. I saw that the target of the aircraft was a Luftwaffe staff car and a service wagon, both of which now resembled a heap of smoking scrap metal. Fortuitously for the crews of the vehicles, they had anticipated the attack and had abandoned their vehicles for the safety of the nearby ditches and trees. All were safe and unwounded, however also hit and destroyed, was a large farm cart hauled by two draught horses which had courageously died for their Fuhrer and Fatherland. The bloody scene was cleaned up with remarkable haste, as the local inhabitants descended on the site, armed with knives and saws, availing themselves probably of the first meat meal for several years. By courtesy of the Tactical AIR Force, RAF.

Pr-BR

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.