大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War website by Sandra Beckett on behalf of Richard H J Rowe, the author, and has been added to the site with his/her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and condition.
For reasons best known to them, the Germans decided to move all RAF prisoners of war out of a camp at Fallingbostel on 6th April, 1945.
About 10 days later, after travelling apparently aimlessly around the countryside in a train with various stops, I, with about 70 other RAF chaps were due to spend a night in a village hall.
None of us knew where all the other chaps were that had left the camp, or any idea of what the Germans had planned for u s.
I was not at all happy regarding our situation and decided that it was time for me and the Germans to part!
Having made preparations whilst in the village hall, round about midnight I carefully raised the lower sash of a window at the back of the hall and peered out. The elderly German guard, who had been outside, was sitting down in a lean-to some distance to one side enjoying a cigarette that I had given him shortly before when I had gone around on the excuse of having a pee.
I calculated that I could be out of the window, across a short courtyard and through a gap between two houses before he could drop his cigarette and locate his rifle 鈥� and did so. Within seconds I was in open country and enveloped in darkness.
My plan was simple 鈥� hide in the countryside during daylight and walk westwards during the nights, keeping the North star over my right shoulder when it was visible and continue until hopefully I cold contact allied forces which I knew were in that direction.
It was, I believe, the third night of walking, after narrowly avoiding incidents, that were hairy and a bit frightening at times, that I was walking across a ploughed field, the night being very peaceful and quiet, when suddenly there was a tremendous explosion ahead and a shell whizzed overhead. I looked back and saw the shell burst where I had recently walked. What was being fired at I had no idea, I had seen or heard nothing. I lay down between the furrows and when firing ceased, I dozed for a while.
At dawn I carefully investigated and in a clearing partly surrounded by trees saw a military camp, obviously allied, identified by white stars painted on the vehicles. It was an artillery unit with its usual paraphernalia, guns, vehicles, tents and even a small spotter plane.
Not a soul could be seen; I opened a flap of a tent and saw six Americans fast asleep. I should have left them sleeping of course and waited patiently, but maybe I was over excited and woke the nearest one, who happened to be a sergeant. He came outside and we chatted quietly until breakfast time 鈥� and what a good breakfast I had.
During our conversation, he asked me where I was making for. Actually I was not making for anywhere as he put it; I had achieved my aim, safety with our forces.
Foolishly, however, I replied 鈥� Cornwall. It transpired that he knew Cornwall, having sailed with the invasion fleet from Falmouth. Prior to the invasion he had been camped near Bodmin and had been befriended by a Bodmin family. He asked me if I would visit them and tell them that he was okay, if I was anywhere near Bodmin on my return to the UK.
Certainly I said and wrote the details on a blank POW letter form which I had with me.
I returned to my home in Newquay, but was never near Bodmin, and shortly afterwards moved to employment in the Midlands.
Twenty three years later, in 1968, I was back in Cornwall permanently, with my marriage in ruins and living in a bed-sit in Bodmin.
One evening, looking through some papers I was about to ignore an old POW letter form amongst them when I saw the word Bodmin on it. It was the form on which I had written the details given me by the US sergeant.
The following evening, having my usual evening meal in a caf茅 in Crockwell Street, I asked another regular if he knew the family. He did know them and told me that the husband had been a gas fitter and that it was his wife who was now working in the caf茅 kitchen.
When she appeared, I asked her if she had known the US sergeant 鈥� 鈥淵es鈥� she said 鈥渨hy?鈥� I then said that he had asked me to tell her he was alright. She looked surprised and asked me if I had seen him recently 鈥� I then explained how and when I had met him and apologised for the delay.
She said that he and his family had corresponded ever since the war and that she had received a letter from him only a month previous 鈥� 鈥淕OOD鈥� I said 鈥渨hen you reply tell him that I have passed on his message!鈥�

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