大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Pam Riding of Kirklees Libraries on behalf of Mr Smithson and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the terms and conditions.
TUESDAY THE 8TH MAY "V.E." DAY What a day for us. In the morning we climbed on the trucks twice and were ready to go. The second time, before getting out of them shots were fired near the leading truck. We got down and returned to our huts. The Russians tell us that this is a Russian controlled area and that they have made plans for our evacuation and that it will take place in a few days. It was almost a fortnight since they had first entered the camp. They also said that anyone moving by themselves would be interned at the Elbe. Back to our huts. We realised that we must be in the camp for some days more. .

The camp now settled down to listen to Churchill, Trueman and Stalin announce the end of the war. Many of the huts had radios placed in the doorways and round these huts were gathered crowds of many nationalities to listen. When Trueman and Stalin spoke, the later with an interpreter, there was not much attention paid but as soon as Churchill started to speak there was absolute silence. I have never been so emotionally effected. The atmosphere was electric even though many there could not understand the words. As I am typing this I can feel it as it was, over 50 years ago. At night we listened to the King, another emotional moment as most of us knew that the King had difficult in articulation.

The day after "D-Day" we had a parade before the Wing Commander but were told nothing new, only that we did not know when we should be moving. That evening I went for a walk to a little village half a mile from the camp. There were not many civilians about but it did seem as if life might soon become more normal. There had not been any destruction that I could see. We try to be phlegmatic about the wait for repatriation. The weather is now very warm and pleasant with many men sunbathing. A small lake has been found near the camp and a few of us have been swimming there; George Greenslade is our best swimmer and has found a point where he, can dive in. I want to see the bottom before I dive; one never knows what there is under the water. Diving or not, it was a very pleasant interlude. We had given up listening to the news as much as we had been doing, as most bulletins seemed to refer to the thousands of released POW arriving back in England. We knew that we were not on the list for a quick repatriation. The weather was so good that I washed my battledress. I was doubtful about the outcome as I did not have a lot of soap but it turned out OK.

I had an interesting time one afternoon. I was walking round the end of the camp near the wood and near an open and rough area of ground when I saw that four young boys were playing at something that resembled Cowboys and Indians [May have been Germans and English]. They moved about enjoying themselves when another boy arrived. The game stopped and the four got to their feet approached the newcomer and gravely shook hands and clicked their heels. He was put on one of the sides and the game recommenced. When I was about the same age, I played on the first world tank and field guns on Lindley Moor. We were never so formal when we played our games. In fact I do not remember shaking hands formally until I was in my teens, never mind about eleven years of age.

On the afternoon of Sunday the 13th May the glider pilot group moved to another hut which was alongside the hut used as a food store for the camp. A Russian civilian was in charge, about a dozen of us were to help in the fetching and distribution of the food to the two cookhouses. It was good to have something positive to do and at times was also very interesting. On our second day of duty six of us went into Luckenwalde to the bakery there. A Russian Sergeant was in charge and under his orders we had to load the cart with a required number of loaves. After taking off our jackets and putting them on one side we loaded the cart by passing the loaves as if they had been rugby balls; pleasant, as they were not as heavy as bricks. Going back to the camp we saw many civilians about and youngsters who trailed after the slow moving tractor drawn cart. They asked for bread, they were short now. We soon knew what the word "brot" meant. On our third or fourth visit and having found out that our duty did not mean any extra ration, without any planning, we decided to do something for ourselves. The next day we took off our jackets as usual and placed them on top of one of the piles of loaves around the room. On finishing and our cart being loaded we all climbed aboard and travelled back to camp. There we took our jackets into the billet, returned and off loaded the cart. What a shock, when it was seen that all of us had somehow managed to get our jackets entangled with a loaf.

I have mentioned the German children asking for bread; on another occasion, passing some old sand quarries we were asked for some by a boy about ten years of age. We threw a spare loaf to him. He knelt down, with another four children gathered round, he started to break the loaf into pieces without a knife. He had to kneel in order to get his full strength to bear. It was a very pathetic sight. Never, at any time in my childhood did I go without food.

A few days later we realised that having enough bread was not enough and that sugar was needed and that had almost become a craving. I knew nothing about the preparations but took part in the action. To understand, one must appreciate the way the store was run. Round the edge of the store were placed the bulk stores; these were mainly bread, rice, sugar, tins of milk, packets of dried onions and potatoes. The two cookhouses were in different parts of the camp. When the Russian civilian in charge was preparing an issue for the two cookhouses, he would sit on a chair in the middle of the room to watch us carry the required amounts of the differing stores from the piles around the edge of the room to two separate piles in the centre. When the two piles were complete, the cart was moved along the outside of the hut and by a window in the middle of the wall. This window was opened and through it we had to pass the various stores from the two piles in the centre of the room in to two piles on the cart.

On the inside and by the window was a table and two chairs. The drill was as follows. Two men were on the cart, two on the table and two on the floor by the table. Others brought the stores from the pile to the table. Potatoes, bread and sugar were in sacks weighing about one hundredweight. I did not know, but before we started loading, the men inside had managed to move a spare half- hundredweight of sugar from the edge to the centre pile without the Russian noticing. I was on the inside of the window and standing on the table. We had loaded the potatoes and the sugar when another smaller sack was brought to the men on the floor who passed it up to us on the table whispering at the same time that this was ours. We had no time to think and called across to our hut, alongside the stores hut, for someone to come out and pick up the sack. This was soon done. We shared out the sugar and from then, to the end of our time in the camp, we were never short. I would add that we only felt that we were getting what we should have had. The rations from the Russians were no better than we had had from the Germans whilst prisoners. I have never felt guilty.

The camp is now being turned into a displaced persons camp and non-German workers are being billeted in the camp. I never knew the numbers but it was in thousands. Some of them were women and on the first day that they arrived the Medical Officer issued a notice to say that they had all been medically examined and the result was that very many of them had VD and we could take that as a warning. I thought at the time that it may have been true but it could also have been to stop any bother that there might have been with the prisoners, and to keep us all on the straight and narrow path until we got home. I also thought there was little chance of trouble as our libidos were very low.

One day I had an interesting experience. Walking near our billet I got talking with a Polish soldier. He was about twenty and at the beginning of the war his Father and older Brother were taken away to work for the Germans. Later when he was about sixteen the Germans ordered him to join the German Army. At first he refused but on being told that his Mother would be shot unless he did, he joined. He was in the Army and fought against us on "D-Day". Around that time he was taken prisoner by the Allies and brought across the Channel to England. Here he was given the option of joining the Allied Polish Forces or remaining a POW. He chose to join the Polish Army and returned to France to carry on fighting against the Germans. This time he was captured by the Germans and ended up telling me his story in Luckenwalde. I suppose that, at the time, it was not as unusual as it sounded. Many nationals of countries conquered by the Germans could have done the same but it did appear strange to me for a person to have fought on both sides in the same war. I met him a few times and we managed to understand each other although we could not speak the other's language. We both knew a little French and German although his German was much better than mine. We drew pictures on paper [we had a little now] and used gestures when all else failed. It was surprising how we could talk [?] about a variety of subjects and know what each other meant.

The prestige of the British Forces and Britain was terrific among the other prisoners and displaced persons. This esteem suffered a blow when the Dutch D.P.'s almost beat us at Football. The Dutch people followed Association Football in England before the war and we had a very high reputation. [Huddersfield Town was often mentioned; pre-war they were in the First Division.] Losing the game was very much on the cards as none of our players were as fit as those in the Dutch team but a good lead at half time was held on to and we were not humiliated, as we might easily have been.

Saturday the 19th May. Fetching bread in the morning and a swim in the afternoon. We were lazing about in the evening when the siren went! We knew what that meant but could it be true? The news was true!! We were to leave tomorrow. I said good bye to as many friends as I could and then gathered all my things together - not a long job and then spent the longest night of my life. At least it seemed so.

Sunday the 20th.May. It took the Russians some time to get organised but at last we set off. We were on Russian Army trucks although they were American manufactured and sent to Russia during the war. We passed through a number of villages, some of which had been damaged. A few times we had to make detours to avoid bridges that had been demolished. One wood we passed through was burning and in it was lying the body of a German soldier. The fire could have been caused by the sun as it was a very hot day. The body had not been removed. We passed near Wittenburg, the only town of note and ended on the banks of the River Elbe near Csauag[?] where we de-bussed. We walked over the river and for the first time felt free. I had now walked over three major European rivers, the Rhine, the Oder and the Elbe. [I know that that is nothing much now but it was then.] The Americans had transport waiting and we were soon moving again. We passed near Dessau, Liepzieg and through Halle to the airfield there, where we were billeted and had something to eat. The airfield had been one of Goering's Headquarters, had a good nights sleep and then a very different breakfast to what we had been used to. [Rice, stewed fruit, peanut butter and coffee.] The orders were that our ongoing flight was dependent on the weather and nothing could be guaranteed but there would be no flight that day. I therefore I went for a walk around the airfield. There were many bombed and burnt out kites as well as buildings. I managed to find a feldwebel's cap which my son, Richard, in later years, soon wore out. Went to a cinema in a disused hanger but remarked that I was not impressed with the film.

Tuesday 22nd May. We had to stand by in the morning but the weather must have become duff and we did not fly. This was getting irksome but at least we knew we were on the way. Wednesday and saw an American variety show in the afternoon and a film at night. I note in the diary that the show was good but it had a remarkable reference about us not being able to eat all the chocolate given us. We were on stand by and yet we did not go. The diary says it all. [At the moment we are standing by --- let us hope this is it--- IT was not it, so we are still waiting --- what agony ---as we get nearer, it seems to get worse.] Thursday and the weather was duff. I only remember going to the pictures.

Friday the 25th May and we moved at last. I had reconciled myself to another blank day. I walked up to the mess hall a little late and on the way passed a couple of glider pilots who had finished their meal. They told me that some Dakotas had landed. My plane number was about 134 so I did not get excited, I thought it would take some time for over a hundred planes to land so I continued to the mess hall. There I met Spinner who was on the same plane as myself He told me that we had been ordered to go to the airfield. So I cut my losses and returned to our billets and collected my kit bag and few belongings, then moved fast to the airfield. What a sight - about 150 Dakotas in four lines parallel to the main runway. It did not take us long to find our plane, without any bother we climbed aboard. Little time to wait and we were off. That was the last I was to see of Germany for about 45 years until I visited Dusseldorf to see relatives of my wife.

The flight was short and we were soon touching down at an airfield near Brussels. No waiting about and almost in minutes we were climbing aboard Canadian trucks and away into Brussels. The people on the streets must have known that we were returning POWs as they greeted us as we passed. It was a magnificent welcome. At the Canadian transit camp, our arrival was the same but very efficiently carried out. Any sick [not many, we dare not be sick] were attended to and any clothing deficiencies made up. Each of us was given a sheet of the procedures that were to take place. First, we filled in a sheet of personal questions with regard to rank and number, unit and family details but to us the most important things were that flight details would be posted up on their company notice board. There would be no waiting for anyone and anyone not at the meeting place at the right time would miss their plane. As far as I was aware, no one missed their flight. Having been told that we should not fly that day, Jock Broadly and myself decided that we would spend the evening in the city. We had been given some Belgium notes to spend if we wished. We had a drink at an estaminet but were careful to make sure that we did not overdo things and soon moved on. After seeing some of the sights, we thought we would have one final drink and so went into another estaminet. We must have picked an odd one. Inside were some young Dutch soldiers. I did not think they had been in the army long. With them were some young girls. All very clearly, had had too much to drink. Their behaviour was crude, to put it mildly. We could not understand the words of the song they were trying to sing but when condoms were blown up or filled with beer or water and thrown about the room or used as balloons we felt it was time to retreat. We returned to the transit camp and joined in the stories and reminiscences that went on well into the night.

Saturday the 26th May. Orders were posted on the company notice board and we were ready for the flight to England. By truck to a different airfield, this time the planes were Lancasters. I wondered how they could carry passengers. I had only been in Stirlings and they were quite different to the Lancaster inside, having a much larger open area. I need not have worried, 24 of us climbed in. Some were behind the tail gunner, some crowded behind the pilot and navigator and one lucky "bod" in the astrodome looking out. I was sitting under the main spar. We all got in and in no time at all were bounding down the runway and into the air. I usually read if I have anything to read but like everyone else, I was too excited to do anything except talk to those nearby. The first thrill we had was when the man in the astrodome shouted to us that he could see the "White cliffs of Dover" we knew then that it was not a dream; we really were on the way. What can one say about a moment like that! Soon we were touching down at Oakly, not far from Oxford. On touchdown our arrival was unprecedented. Euphoria is the only word. On climbing out of the "Lanc" each ex-POW was taken in hand by two WAAFs and escorted to a reception area. Think ! Having barely seen a woman, never mind being almost carried by one, for nine months, what our feelings were. As we walked we were asked by the WAAFs what our Regiments were and if we were in need of any medical attention. As I was not, I was then led to another part of the hanger where I sat before an officer and answered some short questions about my Squadron who then told me I should be going to a small centre in the Home Counties. There, more particulars would be taken and as soon as possible we should be sent home on "repat" leave. Wherever we moved, there were tables with chocolates and other things to eat. By now I had had my fill of sweets and only wanted to keep moving.

This we soon did and were rolling along the English countryside. The weather greeted us in typical English fashion; it was drizzling and was damp. As we travelled we were greeted by children asking for "brot"? No! For souvenirs! It was early evening when we arrived at the small camp in a wood near Princes Risborough. We were billeted in Nisson huts and soon settled down.

During the evening we were issued with complete sets of clothing along with badges of rank and unit signs. We also had a medical and an F.F.I. After that we had another interview with a transport officer, with regard to our home towns and necessary rail passes. We also sent telegrams to those at home informing them that we were OK and would soon be home. During the night of Saturday/Sunday ladies from the WVS sewed on the badges and etc. that we had been given, so that we could go out during Sunday.

In the morning I went to a Methodist Chapel near the camp and enjoyed the quiet service. During the evening we were given our rail passes and told when the respective trains would depart as well as what would happen to us in the future. There were about 6 or 7 trains setting off on Monday morning and we had to catch the one that was going in our direction i.e. west, north, south and so on. These were all specials and I had to catch the one going north and then decide whilst on the journey how to get to Huddersfield.

Monday morning. No one was late and we were off. I got off at Derby and enquired about Huddersfield. Sheffield was my next stop but as I had time to spare, I telephoned home and found out, for the first time in nine months that all was well there. At Sheffield I changed for Penistone and found out there that I had two and a half hours to wait for the connection. I decided to go up to the Town centre and see if there was a bus going my way before the train. There was a bus but it was no better than the train so I decided to wait and catch the train. Waiting becoming irksome, I rang up home again and had a longer chat with my Mother about the family. I then crossed the street and sat on a small seat by a park waiting. After a lapse of about twenty minutes or so I thought that I would walk down to the station and wait there, thinking it would be more interesting. I had just risen up when I heard "Douglas" being called. I could not think it could be for me as I knew no one in Penistone. The shout became louder and when I looked across the road I saw Arnold Crapper, my brother-in-law, calling out from the window of a van. It transpired that my Mother had phoned my Sister Jessie, who had phoned Arnold at work in Holmfirth. He had picked up the van and come for me. The last journey and I was home.

MONDAY 28TH MAY AND THE END OF MY LIFE AS A PRISONER OF WAR

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