大象传媒

Chapter 4

While we were in Mala Fatra we heard that the Russians were advancing. Decisions had to be made. Should we wait for the Russians to come or start back into Czechoslovakia and strike for the east? We knew that somewhere back were the German military police waiting to shoot deserters from the Russian front because we had already seen deserters. Also the SS were about.

It was Autumn. Somewhere in a mountain area not far from a village called Makov we came down a track and lo and behold a Russian tank column was sitting on the road. By our wireless in the lager and local news back in Mankendorf we knew that Churchill and Montgomery were not happy with the three powers agreements. Bluey and the POWs in Italian camps had been taken into Germany when Italy fell to the allies. We did not want to risk that happening to us and ending up in Russia! So we brazened it out, greeting the tank crews who were made up from whole families, including women, and asked if anyone could verstehen Deutsch. An officer came along and we managed to tell him who we were. After all by now we could have passed for Russians the way we were dressed. They gave us food and water. He then offered to get us sent back to Odessa. He said we could be put on a boat home from there. We were not too keen on that and said we would go east, towards Prague. He was waiting for some heavy artillery to come along to lead them into Prague. I found out that they were the Georgian army. Talking to them I said that I knew a Georgian division in 1942 where the Russian soldiers were on one side of the road and the British 56 Division was on the other side of the road. Both had orders not to speak to each other. It was at Mosul, north of Iraq. We were to assist the Russians as the Germans could have broken through Turkey, making for the Suez canal. Of course they never did. The artillery arrived, we all shook hands and we advanced with them.

We rode in the back of a jeep. The driver did nothing but grin and wave to everyone. We were right up the front now, stopping now and then whilst a barrage was sent off guided by small spotter aircraft. We enjoyed being with them until our driver, covered with garlands of flowers and well on the way with drink, began driving up pavements and down ditches at the side of the road. The spotter pilots were landing on the road in front of us for their garlands and drinks. Our fear now was we would never reach Prague before overturning and crashing. It would have been ironic to survive all this time only to be killed by a drunken Russian driver! When they stopped for a while somewhere between Olomouc and Pardubice we decided to part company so we thanked them and continued alone. Glatz and Konigratz were two of the places I can remember. Eventually we got mixed up with thousands of German refugees pouring to the west to flee from the Russians.

We guessed that maybe the Russians had stopped further back because the road was blocked. Back in the mountains I already had the German original map of the front as it was. I also had the pistol I had acquired earlier. I still have the map.

As we moved along the road east we saw German deserters lying dead along the side, shot by the SS. Their right arms had been propped up set in rigor mortis in a Nazi salute.

We stayed with the refugees driving the horse and carts and helping them in general for food. As time went by British POWs were appearing en-route. They told us Hitler was dead. A photograph of him was displayed in shop windows. We lost all recollection of days and dates and heard that the surrender had taken place. Suddenly the SS appeared on the streets, shouting 鈥淲ier kampfew wieter allein!鈥� We are carrying on alone. We were glad we were mixed up with the refugees, who were all crying because of this.

We like to think that British soldiers are above looting but that is just what started. They were looting the carts. I know that they were Germans. Maybe some of them deserved it, but Bluey and I thought of those German families who gave us food and shelter at great risk to themselves back in the mountains, and we did not want to be associated with what was going on.

By leaving the refugees we could push on faster across country, away from the main roads. We went through one or two villages and late in the afternoon we ran into some Russian infantry making their way to Prague.

The Czechs there were going berserk and beating women and men, chasing them up and down the road and making them carry and replace the cobbles that the SS had torn up to act as road blocks. I felt sorry for them and was going to lean out of the truck with some water but Bluey stopped me and said 鈥淒on鈥檛 do it. They may just take it out on us鈥�. He was probably right as the mob was all fired up with hate. The Russian soldiers just sat in their trucks looking very contained. Their uncomfortable looks showed they were strictly under orders. They stopped on the edge of Prague and we gathered this was as far as they were going. We wondered why? We found out later.

So now we were alone again except for an American soldier who had tagged on to us. We made our way into central Prague. As it was getting late we wanted to be off the streets because we could sense that things were tense and there were snipers about. We walked through a tunnel and everything was quiet. Even today, I still cannot believe what happened next.

It must have been about 10 o鈥檆lock when we saw sign for a hotel. Bearing in mind we were ragged, unshaven and dressed like bandits, the three of us entered and walked up to the reception desk. There was nobody about so I hit the little bell. When the man came I asked in English if we could have a room for the night. Very casually he turned a huge register round and asked us to sign it, as if it was the most normal thing in the world to shelter escaped prisoners of war with no money, while a battle raged outside to liberate the city. He called a young man to take us to the lift and up to our rooms. As we walked away from the desk the Yank stopped, stood to attention and sang 鈥淕od save the King鈥� very loudly! Just before we got into the lift the receptionist called out to us asking if we would like an early morning call! I don鈥檛 know why but I said, 鈥淵es, 4.00am!鈥� What a strange thing to say! The whole thing was surreal.

We got to our rooms and settled down but somehow we felt very uneasy. I suppose we had broken the rule taught to us by the partisans, this time there was nowhere to run. We lay on top of our beds fully clothed. Bluey and I looked at each other. There was someone at the door, just a little rustle. I signalled to Bluey to stay there while I crept to the door, pistol in hand and opened the door. There was nobody to be seen. This puzzled us both. Then again we heard the rustle and this time I got up quickly and snatched the door open. Standing there was a dear old lady holding a tray with two basins of soup and a stikal brot. We thanked her and were very grateful. After we had eaten Bluey wanted me to throw the gun away but I would not. I realise now the risk of getting caught carrying an automatic pistol with over 50 rounds on me. I could have been shot on sight, and was not covered by the Geneva Convention. We dropped into an uneasy sleep waking with sounds of tanks moving about, their tracks rattling on the cobbles.

At 4 a.m. came my early morning call. I got up and went out into the street. Walking along the road I smelt bread baking. It was lovely. I found the bakers and managed to scrounge a few fresh rolls for our breakfast. I was nibbling one as I turned the corner into a great square. It was full of Russian tanks and from every lamppost hung a dead German. Some old scores had be settled that night. The Czechs were throwing petrol over the bodies and setting them alight. I was standing in Wenceslas Square. I hurried back to tell the other two and they came and had a look. We decided there and then to get out of Prague as quickly as we could. I looked at my map and found the road out to Pilsen.

About mid-day we came across soldiers with guns facing us up the road. We put up our hands and a group came towards us covering us. We thought we were done for and they were Germans. Suddenly the American shouted 鈥淭hey鈥檙e not Germans! They鈥檙e Americans!鈥�

At last, about three to four days after the surrender had been signed, we were safe - no longer Kriegs Geffangeners, but British soldiers once again.

We were interrogated by the officer in charge and gave him all the information we could. We told him about the tanks and what was happening in Prague. He said that if they had been there first, it would not have been allowed to happen.

They were 20 kilometres outside Prague and had been lying there for three weeks, but under the three powers agreement they had to let the Russians enter Prague. It was the Yalta agreement.

After feeding us up with K rations, we were put on a plane to the Canadians in Brussels. Free but back under army rules and not able to choose for ourselves.

The first thing I did was have my photo taken. Bluey bought silk stockings on the black market to take home. My wife told me off, she would have liked stockings. The photo still stands to this day on our sideboard but the stockings are long gone!

We landed at Horsham, only about three quarters of an hour from my home in Sutton, but my feet were in such a state with sores and blisters I was kept there and given treatment for a week until they improved.

Bluey had decided after his leave was finished, to sign on and go to Burma. He spent a lot of leave with my wife and I, staying at my mother-in-law鈥檚 or at his sister鈥檚. He didn鈥檛 have much in the way of family and was happy to become part of ours.

Eventually he reported back. I was still on leave. Not long after, he came to see Joyce and I and asked me to be his best man at his wedding. He had met a girl who worked in the NAAFI and was getting married. Joyce and I went up to Brooks in Wales, the only people on his side. They eventually got a council house in Weaverham in Cheshire. Bluey worked for many years for the Water Board in Cheshire until he retired. He and Freda had a very happy marriage and had one son, David. Bluey was devastated when Freda died on August 20th 1987. He told me that he walked down to her graveside every day to see his 鈥渙ld gal鈥�. He died on 7th July 1990 and they are buried together.

Bluey looked a strange, tough character. He had scars on his face and a great mop of hair that made him stand out in a crowd. In fact one time back in England when I was supposed to meet him I was able to pick him out in a stadium full of hundreds of people 鈥� something about the shape of his head that was different to everyone else. Everyone expected him to be a really hard bloke because of the way he looked but he was one of the gentlest people you could ever meet. He was also very funny. He was accident-prone and could make you cry with laughter at stories of what had happened to him. It was even funnier because he could never quite understand why it happened to him. Joyce and I remember so many incidents. After one visit he was saying goodbye to us on the train. When the whistle blew he stuck his head out of the carriage window to wave goodbye without noticing the window was closed at the time. He broke the window and the train pulled out with him still waving and blood pouring down his face.

His war experiences before I met him had left him 鈥榖omb happy鈥� and he was in a terrible state mentally. One of the tragedies of the time was there was not much help or understanding for the many who suffered mentally for their war experiences. They had to struggle on alone and for some it took years to cope. Bluey was lucky. After the war Freda sorted him out and she was his rock. You couldn鈥檛 help liking him. I lost one of the best pals I ever had when he died.

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