大象传媒

The following is a story of my father's was experiences as told in a letter from him to a lady in Canada. I undersand that he stayed with the lady's family at the beginning of the war.
I warn you - this account is rather long.
Transcript of a letter sent by my father to Bessie in Canada after the end of the second World War. The original letter is not dated.

Are you feeling strong enough to stand a shock? If so take a look at the signature inscribed at the end of this letter, will you just be surprised. At short intervals since my return home Dora has hurled the following at me 鈥渘ow you can write to Bessie鈥�, 鈥淗ave you written to Bessie yet鈥�, 鈥測ou really must write to Bessie鈥� and so on etc. etc. Really and truly cross my heart I wanted to write to you but knowing it was certain to be a lengthy business, I shirked it. Now providence, in the shape of a septic throat, (nothing serious) has given me the opportunity, for alas! I鈥檓 in hospital, with time on my hands.

It鈥檚 a little difficult to know just where to begin however on reflection I think 28th June 1942 would be a suitable starting point. This was the morning, a Sunday, when I left Metruh with my Section and we attempted to gain the safety of our own lines. Some got through, some like myself were taken prisoner, while others were even less fortunate. I was taken prisoner early Monday morning June 29th, we has spent a very lively Sunday afternoon and an eventful night. Driving through an early morning mist we were ready to congratulate ourselves on being out of trouble. We came out of the mist into a large concentration of English vehicles, which were unfortunately peopled by German troops. To use a popular Army expression `we鈥檇 had it鈥�.

It鈥檚 rather difficult to record ones feelings. I remember a certain amount of relief at still being in one whole piece, coupled with an awful sinking feeling in my stomach, when I realised that I was a prisoner. There was no ill-treatment on capture but I went hungry for some time, has my last meal on Sunday evening and did not receive any rations until the following Wednesday afternoon, when we reached Tobruk. However was very thankful to get water on this journey, quite honestly, I don鈥檛 think the Jerries has food over and above their own needs. From now on hunger, discomfort and thirst, was to be out lot. We were given sufficient food and drink to keep going, but never enough to satisfy. The journey to Tobruk was not pleasant but then travelling the Desert as a free man was rarely enjoyable. Monday night (June 29th) we slept off the road-side beyond Sidi Barrani, I believe the intention has been to travel all night by the RAF having discovered the convoy delivered one or two near misses, we were forced to stop for the night. The second night was spent on top of 鈥淗ell fire pass鈥� (Halfaya) above Sollum Bay. Despite the time of the year it was very cold and I slept in a `slit trench鈥� with particles of sand trickling down on me all night. This must surely go down as one of the most uncomfortable and miserable nights on record, taking into consideration, state of mind as well as body. We stopped at Sollum water point the next morning here I enjoyed a refreshing wash, drank my fill of water and was frankly delighted when the German interpreter gave me one small hard biscuit from his meagre store. Having finished my `breakfast鈥� I filled my pipe and had the most enjoyable smoke since capture. Spent three days in a transit camp at Tobruk and was damn glad to take my leave of it. A sandstorm was blowing each day, only slackening off as evening came. In addition, the heat was terrific and there were no tents, consequently it was impossible to fin any shade.

We journeyed to Derna, stayed there one night and then on to Benghazi , where I was destined to remain until November. I won鈥檛 dwell too much on my stay at this place, it was the worst time I had and very uncomfortable. There was a great deal of sickness in the camp due to bad conditions and lack of proper food, also there were no Red Cross parcels. I fell ill and went into hospital about the first week in October, 1942 with a complaint, quite new to me, Pellagra or vitamin deficiency. In hospital the food was a little better but I found great difficulty in eating it. What I did appreciate was a real bed, after sleeping on the hard ground for three months without even a blanket. By that time I has acquired a couple of permanent dents through sleeping on my side, that being less painful than lying on my back. We used to get a little news and it soon became evident, that out troops were coming up fast. On November 13th, there were rumours of our being moved to Italy and a number of patients, who were fairly fit, went into hiding. The next day our South African interpreter came round and said everything was OK. The Italian commandant was handing over control to the Senior British MO rations were coming in and our troops were expected within two days. I just laid back and thought of 鈥榅mas in Cairo. My pleasant thoughts were rudely interrupted, it was suddenly announced that a large hospital ship had arrived at Benghazi harbour and we were all being transferred to Italy. Once more several fellows went into hiding and I believe about seven remained undiscovered, have always been sorry that I was too ill to do the same. We drove to the harbour in ambulances and I managed to ride in front with another fellow. Had filled my pipe with half a cigarette but required a match so I requested one from the driver, who was an Italian civilian. Was pleasantly surprised when he presented matches and twenty cigarettes, which I of course shared with my companion.

The voyage was uneventful and we landed at Bari after six days at sea. Food on board was the best I ever had as an Italian POW, unfortunately I could eat very little. We were all housed in a temporary hospital.. Despite my feeling so ill I was vastly amused at our reception. There was a large number of high ranking officers (Italian), plus a double row of armed guards a five yard intervals. This mark you, to ensure that the 250 prisoners, all ill and hardly able to walk, did not escape. For three weeks I was on a diet that consisted of milk, rice and two eggs per day. I am convinced that this started me on the road to recovery, and shall always be grateful to whomever was responsible for my getting it.

From here I was moved to another hospital 50 kilometres inland, and there I stayed until discharge on March 5th. Went to a nearby camp and after a couple of weeks, I received my first mail for 9 months, what a thrill. On April 30th, was moved to another camp north of Rome and about 20 miles from Ancona, which is on the Adriatic coast. This took us three days owing to Allied bombing of Foggia, and important railway junction. To my great surprise this journey was made in 1st class coaches, my next railway trip was destined to be rather less comfortable, but I鈥檒l come to that later. Italy is a very lovely country and I found the journey most interesting, stayed at this camp until the capitulation of Italy. Nobody knew what was happening, and after a day or two of indecision, decided to leave the next morning, with a friend of mine. Unfortunately the Germans arrived at 1 am that morning and once again we were `in the bag鈥� You can well imagine our disappointment.

From Italy we travelled through the Brenner Pass into Germany, one of the most uncomfortable journeys I can remember. About 40 men cooped up in a box wagon for three days. The first day we were sweating with the intense heat. After two days travelling north, we were shivering with cold, what a life eh?. On arrival in Germany I spent about three weeks in a very overcrowded camp and here we were re-registered and photographed etc. It was so uncomfortable here and no Red Cross parcels so was glad to get out on a working party. To my great dismay I landed up at a stone quarry, one of the three worst jobs, the other two being coal mining and lead mining. My schedule was a follows, rise at 4.45am eat breakfast consisting of ersatz coffee with a little sugar but no milk and a piece of dark bread and jam. The a six kilometre walk (3 miles) to work and commence at 7 am. We were given some bread and German sausage for morning lunch and from 9.30 am until 10.00am to eat it. Mid-day break was another half hour and food was vegetable soup, which we carried from our billet in a large can. Finishing time was 5pm and then of course that deadly walk back again, as you can well imagine this was not a very cheery existence especially on our food rations which were always inadequate. However after about five weeks I returned from work to find everyone wildly excited, the Red Cross parcels has arrived. Despite this improvement I found life very depressing, working in a stone quarry as a POW is certainly no joke. The work was bad enough but trudging back through the snow for an hour every night, with the prospect of being locked in dreary billet, was sufficient to damp the liveliest spirit. I was fortunate enough to have a slight accident and three weeks in hospital, more than compensated me for the little pain I suffered.

There had been rumours of a move for some time and at the beginning of March I moved to another job with a party of 15 men. The stone quarry was about 15 miles from Leipzig and this place was about the same distance from a big industrial town named Chemnitz in Saxony. H ere I worked for a firm owning a factory that made milling machines but my job was outside, mostly loading and unloading at the station. Our billet was quite comfortable and a great improvement on the previous one. However, the hours were longer, varying from eleven to twelve per day, half day Saturday and usually a few hours on Sunday morning. There was one great advantage at this job, within a few weeks we made contact with the civilians and commenced bartering. Of course our chief needs was bread and we usually gave our Red Cross chocolate for a four pound loaf. This of course was the black bread, occasionly we could obtain half the quantity of white, but this was very rare treat. During my stay at this job I contracted an illness which put me in hospital for five weeks. Was discharged out for five days then suffered a second attack and went back in dock for another five weeks. It was during the first spell in hospital that the news of `D Day鈥� came through and sent our spirits soaring.

During the next few months we eagerly followed the campaign for the liberation of Europe. Xmas provided a welcome break from the daily round and we managed to enjoy our little holiday. You see most of us were quite confident that this was to be our last Xmas as POWs.

The Allies got nearer and Friday April 13th we heard that our tanks were only about 20 miles away and great was the excitement. On the following day, Saturday, the guard said ` The Americans will be here tomorrow鈥�. When the morning came and they had not arrived, I think he was as disappointed as we were. At 3.00pm on the Sunday afternoon April 15th, we were told to pack, as all POWs were to be moved 15 miles towards Dresden . At 4 pm the order was cancelled which was just as well, because nobody intended to comply with it. It was about 4.30 when the excitement started, a German staff car had stopped in a field about 300 years to 400 yards away, with two Jerry soldiers inside. They crawled out and immediately we saw the red streaks as a stream of tracer bullets was fired at them although it was impossible to see whence the firing was coming. In company with about eight other fellows I watched this performance and them came into the billet to get a drink. Within about ten minutes there was a tremendous crashing of feet and a number of fellows just hurled themselves through the front doorway, at the same time passing a few uncomplimentary remarks about the Germans. Without being asked what was wrong they proceeded to tell us.

Apparently some Jerry soldiers had crossed a nearby railway line and seeing khaki uniforms, opened fire on them. From this point things moved very rapidly and within about ten minutes a minor battle was taking place outside our quarters. We all very quickly assumed a horizontal position and one fellow crawled across the floor to lock the front door, as we certainly did not want any German soldiers taking refuge in our place. Within a few minutes of locking the door a Jerry was operating a Tommy gun from the front porch , I could plainly hear his feet scraping on the step. During the next ten minutes the air outside was full of flying lead, definitely an unhealthy spot for English POWs without arms.

Suddenly the sound of firing died away, I think the Jerries must have retreated to the shelter of some nearby farm. After this effort we all decided to adjourn to the cellars of a hotel across the road, in view of the shell firs from heavy tanks it wasn鈥檛 very wise to stay in a place that offered little protection.

The cellar was very crowded and presented a `league of nations鈥� appearance. As well as out boys, English, South African and New Zealand, there were Poles, Russian, Czechs, French and German civilians. It was impossible not to feel a little sympathy for the mothers and their babies, especially with the prospect of the building being demolished at any moment by an unlucky shell. Suddenly we heard a gun firing at very close quarters. Then one of our boys glanced up through a grating that opened on to the street and excitedly shouted `there鈥檚 a tank outside鈥�. A moments silence followed and then we heard the clump of heavy boots overhead, the door at the top of the cellar steps opened and a voice with a strong American accent yelled out `Anybody there鈥�. There was an answering shout from our crowd, `English prisoners of was here鈥� and with that we all ran up the stairs to great out liberators.

After warmly shakings hands with about six big husky American infantrymen, I went out into the road and there realised one of my greatest ambitions. It was to see an Allied tank come rolling down that road, we had talked of it, dreamt of it and now we were gazing at the real thing. It was quite a scene to remember, all around us farms and houses were blazing, people running to and for trying to rescue their belongings while down the road rolled the big beautiful tanks of the 6th Arm. Div. Gen Pattons 3rd Army Truly a sight I shall remember for evermore. Also shall I remember our celebration that night, the quantity of brandy champagne and wine that I managed to drink, and still remain on my two feet , was truly amazing. I still wonder where it all came from. It is quite impossible to describe the events of that memorable evening in detail. however I remember returning to the billet about midnight. The place was lit only by candles, shell fire having damaged the power cable earlier on. During my absence the boys had acquired a piano, a set of jazz drums and a great deal of liquor. inside was a motley assortment of nationalities, everyone happy, everybody dancing, and mostly everybody drunk. But who cared, the toast was `freedom鈥� a word that most of us had almost forgotten the meaning of.

The next morning, in company with three pals of mine, I took a stroll around the village. We walked down the road as if we owned the darn village and I鈥檓 sure couldn鈥檛 have felt better, if we really had done. In the afternoon four of us had tea with a German woman, the widow of a local communist who had been a good friend of ours. He unfortunately did not live to see the Nazi debacle, his health having been affected by a three year sojourn in a concentration camp. By that evening the prisoners had `acquired鈥� two or three cars and were riding around in style. The following morning there were some rather disturbing rumours about counter-attacks and we were advised to `get-moving鈥� by our American friends.

I must pause here a moment to record my deep admiration for these tough American tank and infantrymen, they did a thoroughly good job of work in a most efficient manner.

By the same evening (Tuesday) we had `acquired鈥� more cars and managed to get five in running order, with sufficient petrol to get us out of the trouble zone. We packed our belongings and food and with the words British POWs painted in large white letters all over the cars, we `got moving鈥�.

A distance of about 90k was covered and it was about 8pm when we were stopped by an American military policeman and directed to a nearby `Allied Collecting Point鈥� for POWs. On arrival here ( the town of Naumberg)we were given blankets and rations and told to report in the morning. We were all registered after breakfast and then came another thrill. The American Red Cross trucks arrived and I heard women speak English for the first time in three years. It was very amusing to watch some of the lads as the American girls drove in, I thought the boys eyes were going to pop right out as they just stared and stared and continued to stare. Later on they recovered sufficiently to line up and collect coffee and doughnuts. During the day a mobile cinema unit was made ready and I attended an evening performance, yet another stepping stone in my return to a civilised existence. I had conversed with several fellows in camp and was frankly amazed, and I an afraid a trifle disbelieving, when told that I would be in England within two days. However was very excited when told late that night `parade ready to move off at 06.30 hers. the next morning鈥�. The necessary transport arrived and by 9.00 we were en route for the Kollends airfield. Here we suffered a temporary setback, after waiting all day, there were no planes available. We were housed for that night in blocks of shell torn flats that had been until recently quarters for the Luftwaffe personnel. In the morning we once again made our way to the airfield to await the coming of planes. We had been anxiously examining the skies when at last a formation of Dakota鈥檚 was observed followed by a second , a third and a fourth. There was a sigh of relief when we realised that here was sufficient transport to take us all. The planes landed and unloaded their supplies and then we all piled in, 25 men to each one. At long last we were off and it was with a feeling of thankfulness that we watched the countryside grow smaller and smaller as our Liberty ships climbed to 5000 feet and then headed for England and home.

On the plane I found a three day old London morning paper and several of us eagerly scanned the pages. Incidentally I was considerably `shaken鈥� by the merchandise prices displayed in the advertisements. Was quite prepared for a rise in prices but had no idea that they had soared to such astronomical heights.

We had taken off at 2.15pm and been cursing at a speed of about 140mph. It was about 5pm when we crossed the Channel and those dear familiar cliffs came into sight. Once again it was something we had dreamt of, talked of, tried to imagine and now here it was, right in front of our eyes. its rather difficult to put one鈥檚 reactions down in black and white but I gess you know how I felt. We landed at 5.30 near a small place named Beaconsfield which is about 25 miles from London, most convenient for yours truly - was greeted by a charming little WAAF girl and then given cigarettes and tea. Also I had the rather unique experience of watching a squadron leader carry my luggage.

Tea being finished, we were taken in trucks to a reception camp, and there to go through the necessary formalities before proceeding on six weeks leave. I passed through that camp in 22 hours, a tribute to the good organisation and hard work on the part of the camp staff. I arrived in London about 8.30pm on Saturday April 21st, exactly six days after being released which was very good going all things considered.

Now Dora comes into the story, she had been vainly searching for a new flat for some time past. At last one was secured and she was moving in on Saturday April 21st, coincidence wasn鈥檛 it when the telegram announcing my arrival in England, was delivered to her she was packing china and expecting the removal men at any minute. The news that I was in England naturally put her in a flat spin (these service terms, they will intrude). However with the help of a girl friend she managed to get everything fixed even to the extent of hanging flags out of the window of our new flat. There is an amusing story concerning one of the flags, the largest one. Being in a hurry to get everything ready, Dora inadvertently fixed a big Union Jack the wrong way one the pole. After this had been waving in the breeze for a while a neighbour gently informed her that she was flying a distress signal. Of course, not knowing of the move I directed my taxi to the old address only to find the flat empty. However there was message pinned to the door and I was soon on my way to the new flat. Doar opened the door and at first I thought she was going to pass out on me. One can鈥檛 write about those things, sufficient to say that after four years the great moment had arrived.

I had an extension of two weeks on my leave making eight in all and part of it we spent down by the sea in Devon. Of course I was very anxious to see a show again and we frequently visited theatres in the West End of London.

On reporting back to the Army I was sent up north for three weeks but since then I have been stationed in the south. Am only one hours train journey from London so get home fairly frequently. Expect to be demobbed the beginning of next year and shall probably go back to my old job.

By the was I must tell you that it is many many weeks since I began this letter. Have been scribbling bits and pieces when I was in the mood and sometimes almost despaired of finishing. Well Bessie despite my being a POW I have spent some good times in the army, but I can truthfully say that my most enjoyable experience was visiting your country. When many people and events of the last five years have faded from my memory I shall long remember the Coldwells , the Milletts - Gaspereaux Valley, Wolfville and Kentville. To put it briefly I had a grand time in Nova Scotia and I shall always be grateful to the people who made is possible. I do hope you receive this letter safely and shall be very glad to hear from you again. It鈥檚 very possible that you are married by now, anyway married or single Dora and I send our best wishes for the future. Please give my regards to your family, especially to your eldest sister Greta who so kindly wrote to me in Germany. Also to Mr and Mrs Millet and family to whom I would like given the opportunity of reading this letter. Please explain to them that I couldn鈥檛 write two efforts like this. A friend of mine very kindly offered to type this for me and I quickly accepted. You see the longer this letter got the more illegible became my writing. That brings me to the end of the longest letter I have ever written I hope you enjoy reading it.

Cheerio

Sincerely yours

PS remember Windsor fair September 1941
pps do they still sell ice cream at The Palms Wolfville?

FOOTNOTES

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