大象传媒

This is Mr Rudolf's story; it has been added by Herts Libraries, with permission from the author, who understands the terms and conditions of adding his story to the website.

Pikes Peak or Bust

An Epic Journey

When we boarded a freighter in Cherbourg we all thought we would be on a very cold iron floor, and I tool my lifejacket off.

The lifejacket I used as a pillow. After a while I got used to the darkness. I saw more and more. About 30 feet away I saw a light bulb, which was hanging from a wooden staircase. It only gave ma a little glimmer. I was creeping on all fours towards it. Under the light, I found a container with a ladle. Then there were also 3 dustbins which had a little water in. These were our toilets. Now I could relieve myself 鈥� Hurrah!

We heard the engines rumbling for hours and hours. We thought we must be nearly in England. No such luck! The heavy planks were lifted from the entry hole. Hurrah we could see again. Now I could see my neighbours properly. To my right was lying a small Infantry man, who I had never seen before I asked him 鈥淎us welcher Ecke kommst du?鈥� 鈥淎us Osterreich鈥� 鈥渄a bist ja aus Osterreich鈥� I know that from your accent. He said his name was Sepp. He also said he could murder a beer. To my left was a tall elderly Infantryman. His name was Tom, he said he was from Munich.

After seeing Landsend (Cornwall), we noticed that we were still going in a westerly direction. We saw no more land that day. The following day we saw a very long coastline, we realised it must be Ireland. Many more ships had joined us. We were now in a huge convoy. We could never count all the ships.

We had three heavy storms. One was particularly nasty. I felt suicidal. I said to Sepp 鈥淚 want to jump overboard鈥�. My boil in my neck was pulsating, I was feeling sick, but could not bring anything up. My uniform was soaked in toilet water which was running on the iron floor from the left to the right side. We heard the empty dustbin clattering and people moaning and groaning. The toilet bin we could not see because there was a power cut.

As we were getting nearer to America, the weather got better, a guard told us that the war in Europe was over. No more killing. There were rumours that Hitler had killed himself. We were now allowed to toilet areas and use WC.

Since the war finished we could now go to the bow of the ship. From there I saw an airship going up and down the coastline which was still far away! After a little while we could see skyscrapers. We could recognise that it was Manhattan. Hurrah we are heading towards New York! What a relief.

Pikes Peak or Bust

On Victory in Europe Day 8th May 1945, steaming in a large convoy towards America, I found myself trapped in the hold of a cargo ship, very disappointed with life. For Germany it was the year zero. I talked to my pal who was lying next to me, mentioning that I would love to throw myself overboard. He just said 鈥渄on鈥檛 be silly, you would not know which way to swim鈥�.

Arriving three days later at New York life seemed much brighter, especially because so many Yankees were still celebrating the Victory in Europe. We were allowed on deck while the ship was anchored in New York Harbour. The big ocean liners seemed to be very small in front of the skyscrapers of Manhattan which looked grand in the evening sun, many windows reflecting a golden shimmer. Life wasn鈥檛 so bad after all, even as a POW, and there were always plenty of good or bad surprises round the corner.

Stepping into the streets of Manhattan the following morning a 鈥渞eception committee鈥� was waiting, consisting of news reel and press cameras. Some guards with truncheons selected certain prisoners for the press photographers and cine cameras, especially very young good looking fellows and arranged them with 60 and 70 year olds from the German Home Guard. A few days later some of us could be seen in the daily newspapers. One particular eye catching picture appeared on the New York Times front page. It was of a 70 year old Home Guardsman placed between two short boy soldiers.

Back in New York we had an interesting ferry ride across the Hudson River and then in relative comfort by train, destination unknown. Passing mile and miles of slum areas of New York we wondered where the 鈥渕ilk and honey鈥� land was to be found. The gardens of the endless terraced houses seemed to be full of garbage and no trees or flowers in sight. No doubt, railways attract slum areas but every town seemed to have its share of poor living quarters. In each town there seemed to be dwellings constructed of waste material and one would have thought them unoccupied had it not been for washing hanging out, or a gleaming great car parked next to a rubbish heap. The occasional glimpse of a dirty looking Yankee or a scantily dressed woman wearing make-up left us thinking鈥� 鈥淚s this really America?!鈥� I began to wonder whether it was a nightmare! No doubt the housing programme had been left behind by the war effort and anyhow much better properties could be seen from the road, which I discovered later. On the other hand every town seemed to have its quarters of very neat houses with beautifully laid out gardens.

Three days and two nights we were speeding along, stopping at Philadelphia, Baltimore, Louisville and for many, many miles the train followed a great river on which we saw Mississippi-type paddle steamers with their great big rear wheels churning up the murky water. The nights seemed to puzzle us with all those bright adverts and petrol filling stations which would show up for miles with their coloured neon lights. Had they not heard of the blackout or petrol rationing? The third day the train was chugging its way through hundreds of miles of open prairie, just cattle grazing on the very meagre grass and the odd farm and not a single tree in sight for hours on end. Somewhat concerned, we even saw the cattle ranges disappear, but what a relief when eventually we saw trees on the horizon. On reaching them, the 鈥減romised land鈥� opened before our eyes. Snow-capped mountains and green foothills rose before us. The guard exclaimed 鈥淧ikes Peak or bust!鈥� and at no time at all we arrived in Colorado Springs, our destination and what a sight it was. The Spa town of Colorado Springs with Pikes Peak (over 14,000 feet high) towering behind this city. The POW camp of timber huts was also a pleasant surprise 鈥� the beds had clean white sheets and quilts 鈥� so no reason why we should want to run away. However the soft mattress did not agree with me 鈥� for the first two nights I could not sleep a wink although I had been tired out. Comfort is only relative.

The timber hut became my home for about 10 days, but then I seemed to have a long sleep but felt very queer when I woke up. As I opened up my eyes I could not see any of my pals. What was this thing sticking out of my mouth? I pulled it out and gradually realised it was a thermometer. But how come I had never seen one like this before? I looked and looked, 106 degrees 鈥� well this was over boiling point! Was I alive? Or was I in the world beyond? 鈥� I shut my eyes again but felt something on my wrist and looking up saw a white figure like a ghost!!! Her mouth moved but I did not understand 鈥淲o bin ich?鈥� (where am I?). By sign language she understood and I understood the word hospital. Good. Then she picked up a tuft of my hair which had come out and said 鈥渉air鈥� and so I learned another word of English and each time she came I learned a few more English words.

The next day I was well enough to look behind me and over the headboard, I saw written:
POW 31 G 2608467
Which made me realise I was still a prisoner.

When I was discharged from the hospital I was sent to another camp and finished up with 鈥淩ommels Mob鈥�. They nearly all wore the 鈥淎frika Korp鈥� tunic, they all turned out to be 鈥渙ld inmates鈥�. They had been captured in 1942 and 1943 in Tunisia. When they discovered that I was taken prisoner of war in the middle of West Germany they wanted to know the latest news from the homeland. They clambered round me and asked all sorts of questions, I informed them in general terms and of what I had seen. They had heard a lot of bad rumours and they were relieved when I informed them that except for the big cities the war damage was not too bad. A lot of the country towns were intact. They were astonished to hear that I had crossed pontoon bridges and that I had travelled by train hundred of miles from Remagen to Aachen. Things were not quite as bad as they had thought.

I was nicknamed 鈥淏ubie鈥� because I was by far the youngest of that group. One thing which concerned me was that I was losing hair. Whole tufts came out of my scalp and left bare patches. It had started in hospital and I was afraid they might call me 鈥淏aldie鈥�. When I mentioned this to my pal Hans he said 鈥渄on鈥檛 worry鈥� and he took me under his wing. In fact he treated me like a son. He showed me all the "Op'ning Gambits" o鈥� the chessboard and also taught me English. He and others gave me extra food which I ate with relish! They all thought I needed feeding up and I think it was the peanut butter which made my hair grow again, or was it the corned beef?

When I had regained my strength and hair, I felt nearly as strong as Samson, but I was selected for 鈥渓ight duty鈥� with two others. It was now mid June and since there was no specific work we were instructed to tear of desert grass round the perimeter of the POW camp (specification 鈥� 2 inches above ground). No tools provided. Why had these naughty Americans not gone metric? We were gradually converted to feet, miles, ounces, acres and Democracy 鈥� the German Camp Leader had to be elected in a similar way to that of the American President. The campaigning took some time and in the meantime I was developing hardened skin on my nose and top of my ears due to the sun, but because of this high altitude (6,000ft) the heat was not oppressive. In fact the climate was the best I have ever experienced, except these nasty sandstorms which would come on very suddenly even out of a blue sky. My feet suffered from overheating from wearing rubber soled boots which were issued to us. No wonder that the Indians wear leather moccasins and the odd 鈥淩edskins鈥� which I saw still do so now.

I was now fit for 鈥渉eavy duty鈥� so I was put to work in the fields. Farmer鈥檚 lorries arrived at the camp entrance and there were normally 25 men standing or sitting in the back of a lorry with no canvas to protect us from the weather. After 20 or 30 miles we would arrive at our destination (normally fields of 10 to 20 aces). In the middle of the field a milk churn with a ladle on top 鈥� contents H虏O! This was the only thing the farmer had to supply 鈥� we brought our own sandwiches. Life was hard! Toiling long days in harsh conditions like heat, sandstorms, stinging insects by the millions and in winter the icy conditions and travelling for miles in open trucks. What concerned us a lot was that on numerous occasions the driver was drunk, especially on the homeward journey, sometimes swaying from one side of the road to the other. Our quota was set and we had to work 鈥榯ill a certain number of acres were finished. Often we just had to carry on until darkness fell.

One day we did not fulfil the set acreage, so we did not get a meal in the evening but were pushed into a hut. There were no windows, no proper light and only a 40 watt bulb over s dustbin which was the toilet. Now I knew what a 鈥淐alaboose鈥� was. We had not enough room to lie down on the hard timber boards. In the morning no breakfast and then we were the first team to go out into the field again.

After sweating it out in the 鈥淐alaboose鈥� we were back in the field at another farm, spacing out sugar beet plants. When the guard was not looking some of us went 6 or 7 yards with the hoe square on, thus leaving no seedlings at all to grow. That day we made sure that we achieved the target by hook or by crook. Even the sozzled guard seemed please, as he had a supply of alcoholic drinks. The Yankee farmer was cursing! Yeas a drunken guard was not so bad as a drunken driver!!!

With the farmer鈥檚 lorries being open to the elements, this was good when the weather was amenable and we enjoyed a superb picture of the countryside. The trouble though was each time we had a different driver and it was quite a few times that they were drunk, especially on the homeward journey. Nor was it unusual that the guard had a hip flask and went beyond the limit, but that was not so bad because they laid themselves out on the edge of the fields and would fall asleep instead of chasing us up and down the furrows of sugar beet or whatever crop it was.

One day I fell a little bit behind the others in an orchard of apple trees. We had to dig trenches round each tree. The ground was very hard and as I was perspiring I took out my handkerchief, the Yankee guard was furious and came straight for me with his rifle pointing at me, two yards from me he stopped the safety catch of the weapon was already released and I heard a click of the bolt, he certainly put me under extreme pressure 鈥渓et鈥檚 go!鈥� 鈥渇aster鈥� and followed me round the tree as I was digging and round the next and the next tree until I had caught up with the others. By that time my battle dress was absolutely soaking wet. Yes we had to take quite a lot of stick and the devil catches the hindmost!

Due to working on many different farms up and down the state of Colorado I did get very close to a huge Indian reservation but we were protected by some cowboy-like guards who always seemed to be trigger-happy and would shoot at birds or at anything moving or crawling and after all, there were bears and wolves about and a bit of noise might at least frighten them off.

Here are some interesting statistics of the state of Colorado:
Area a little larger than the whole of great Britain (104247 Sq. miles)
Population in 1960 鈥� 1.7 million (1985 鈥� 3.3 million)
Population of Denver 鈥� 493,000 but now over 1,000,000
Colorado has 54 mountains over 14,000 feet high (at that altitude there is permanent snow)
Colorado鈥檚 average altitude is 6,8000 feet above sea level.

So it is no wonder that over millions of years the mountain rivers have cut very deep canyons. I was fortunate to see the Black Canyon of the Gunnison and twice I was taken across the Rocky Mountains by train following the deep canyon of the Arkansas River and passing under the world鈥檚 highest bridge (1053 feet above the water), which is a breathtaking sight. One also holds one鈥檚 breath when the train passes the Tennessee Pass, well over 10,000 feet high and negotiates high bridges constructed entirely of timber.

There is no doubt that they are doing great things and if one is fed up with the position of one鈥檚 house you may put it on wheels and shift it hundreds of miles from A to B. It looks kind of cute seeing a two storey timber house being dragged along a highway and you don鈥檛 even have to take the curtains down! However, the graves are usually left behind 鈥� don鈥檛 forget in the wild west you may bury your loved ones in your own garden so it is quite awe inspiring to see tombstones round a house. Perhaps this frightens off robbers.

Land is plentiful, water is short except when it pours and a completely dried up creek becomes a torrential murky river in no time at all. Most of the land is as hard as concrete. If you managed to grow a crop on virgin land for two years running you could then claim that land as your own provided it was not in a National Park or Indian Reservation. The main crops seemed to be sugar beet, tomatoes and onions (apples and peaches in the valley of the Colorado River). Fruit pickers came with their whole families as far as New York, over 2,000 miles away, but most of the farm workers were Mexicans. Quite a number of the better off farmers even at that time had their little aeroplanes and mostly they did not even have to construct a runway, a mere pole with a windsock and a shelter for the plane was all you needed.

No doubt America is the most religious country as it has more churches and priests than any other country (in 1946 there were 236 different denominations). So there is hope for your poor soul, but as long as you live and you have a dime in your pocket you鈥檝e got enough to enjoy yourself. The smallest town has plenty of night life 鈥� neon lights and 鈥渙ne armed bandits鈥� everywhere.

Being serious, Sunday was a day of rest and those POWs who wanted to go to church were allowed to do so, provided they were willing to walk 2 miles to the church in the local town鈥� Certain rules were read out to which we had to agree ie 鈥渢o march in a tight column鈥� as this of course was handier for the guards. Rule 2鈥� 鈥渢o sit in the rows which had been marked out for us鈥�. The Amies with the rifles stayed outside the church. On the way back from church we were still singing, not hymns, but German marching songs like 鈥淎uf der Heide steht ein kleines Bl眉melein und das heisst Erika鈥︹�� This was allowed for some time but then suddenly the Ami Captain gave instructions 鈥渋t is forbidden to sing in the streets鈥�. The German spokesman argued that this was not in the original agreement and that it was good for the morale, but in the end we had to obey the Ami Captain鈥� Two weeks later we got to know that some townsfolk started asking 鈥渉ow come the Jerries aren鈥檛 singing any more?鈥� It had transpired that some Yankee bloke had written a letter to the Chief Commandant about this. It was in the form of a petition with several signatures 鈥� confirming that they liked our singing and that it should not be suppressed. From then on we were allowed to sing again.

Fraternisation was also forbidden, but somehow there were loopholes, especially in the 鈥淪atellite Camps鈥�. I saw POWs reading mail which had not been censored. Some POWs had relations in Chicago and other towns but the uncensored letter were mostly from girlfriends. One such letter created great interest. Curly brown hair was taped to one corner in the shape of a heart. Everyone in the hut noticed as it was opened, because the perfume smelled to high heaven.

The German Unterofficer stood up and said 鈥渇orget her鈥� but Max ignored this order and somehow managed to send letters back to her. Max the boxer was not to be discouraged, he was a good fighter (I had seen him boxing in the ring in the camp). Time passed and a letter arrived 鈥淚 am in the family way!鈥�

The news spread so fast and the Commandant got to know as well. Max tried everything to stay in America but to no avail. He finished up in the same Nissen-hut in England as myself. It was in the Nissen-hut in Mildenhall, Suffolk when he had a letter with more hair , but this time the colour was different. He smelled the hair and was overjoyed 鈥� it was his son鈥檚. You could see him feeling proud. Max was so pleased and started wriggling and warming up like a boxer, his hands clenched into fists and arching his back exclaimed 鈥淚 have got a junior boxer鈥�.

We did have a proper boxing ring at the camp in Colorado Springs and we also had fair facilities for sport, cinema and theatre. Unfortunately in our plays the female parts had to be taken by men but still the Yankees came to see the plays and provided us with the necessary furniture and equipment. Singing was also popular, especially in the warm evenings just after sunset. Someone would start off with a guitar or accordion and people would sit down and join in. A very popular place for practising one鈥檚 voice was the shower baths. We had not forgotten how to cheer ourselves up and some new songs about POWs in America, were created. Our band was getting quite good and was engaged playing dance music to the American forces.

Whilst I was in hospital I realised what a good job The International Red Cross provided. There were quite a lot of books in the German language available also games. This of course also applied to the main camp and now and than a Red Cross commission came to inspect conditions.

I vowed to myself to give generously to this organisation when I was to be repatriated. They even provided Lingaphone records so that we could learn English easier. We also received German language newspapers which had been printed in New York. Once a month I was allowed to send a Red Cross card to my former home in Sudetenland, but alas I never ever received any mail whatsoever for 2 years and 2 months. I did not know whether my parents and brothers and sisters were alive and wondered if the knew whether I had survived. I certainly felt depressed about this. Most of the other inmates received letters and although the war with Germany was finished all the mail was censored (except of course the odd bit of mail smuggled in).

The year in America went by very quickly and in march 1946 we bid farewell to the wonderful state of Colorado. The most interesting rail journey of my life was now to come. Two days and two nights rolling along to the Pacific coast. First following the Arkansas and Colorado rivers then across extensive cowboy country till we reached civilisation again at Provo on Lake Utah. But before we reached Salt Lake City we were thrown out of our seats. The train stopped very sharply. We were not being attacked by Indians but by a shepherd who had lost a few sheep. The train had ploughed through part of his flock. (Railway land is not fenced off in those parts and sheep do not heed the constant whistling or bell ringing of trains). This unfortunate accident took some sorting out, the shepherd was cursing but it also gave us a chance to admire the scenery. To the left and right snow-capped mountains and then behold a golden dome glittering in the sun. We could see Salt Lake City in the distance. What a sight it was when we approached 鈥� the whole Mormon town spread out on the hillside with Utah鈥檚 Capital state building dominating the town together with the spires of the Mormon Temple.

About half an hour later I did not feel so safe crossing the Great Salt Lake Bridge. How did they manage this engineering feat? The train had to go very steady for over 12 miles with stone dams starting from either shore but the centre part seemed all timber pier construction and must have been quite a few miles long 鈥� the briny waves splashing underneath us. Why did this railroad lead straight into the desert where nothing whatsoever grew? Were they going to take us to some salt mines in Nevada and not to the promised Fatherland.

Waking up at dawn the following morning life seemed brighter again. We were obviously high in the mountains, for the snow lay 2 feet deep and we were passing through a tremendous forest. It reminded me of home. The train went obviously downhill and later started to twist. Tremendous scenery and the snow became less and less deep. Neat and lovely houses appeared in the forest and gradually we had descended the snowline. Forest鈥檚 gave way to orchards 鈥� half an hour later orchards and fields in blossom and we seemed to be in the foothills area, but still the train kept going down 鈥榯ill it widened into a plain where palm trees grew. Here were many towns with Mexicans and Negros and we realised this must be California. Soon enough we were in Sacramento then Oakland and by a tremendous bridge crossed the San Francisco Bay. Here it seemed quite tropical 鈥� we passed from winter to summer in seven to eight hours.

What a sight the harbour in San Francisco was and it was here that we embarked on a large troop transporter. At dusk we were leaving the greatest natural harbour in the world as we steamed towards the Golden gate the lights flickered 鈥� to the right Oakland, to the left San Francisco. The ship seemed tall, the bridge looked small 鈥� surely the mast had to be lowered? But what a deception in the twilight and how could the designers deceive us so much? How was it that we did not get nearer to this bridge? But then 鈥� something gave it away. A train passed on the lower deck which gave everything its right proportions. Until then I had not realised that San Francisco Bay Bridge had a double deck and is seven miles long. The Golden gate Bridge was yet to come. Although it is shorter, its height and main span is very impressive and its setting unique.

As we sailed past the light house at Land鈥檚 End, the rolling of the ship confirmed that we were now in the Pacific Ocean and we had left behind not only the greatest harbour in the world but also the land of unlimited possibilities.

Goodbye and Aufwiedersehen to the land of opportunity!

Glossary:
Ami - Amercians
Rommels Mob - Africa Korp troops captured in Tunisia
Calaboose - American Slang
Jerries - Nickname for Germans

Note: I was Prisoner of War from 5 April 1945 to February 1948
Total of 2 years and 11 months.

Panama Canal end of March 1946

Together with about 1800 other German POWs, I was on a very modern troop ship. Our destination was unknown and nobody would tell us where we were going. The guards refused to give us any information. Mostly they said 鈥渕aybe鈥� when asked 鈥渁re we going back to Germany?鈥� As we followed the coastline, we realised that we would possibly pass through the Panama Canal. We had a lot of time to speculate about our destination and we enjoyed seeing so many dolphins. One day about ten dolphins came right up to the bow of our ship. It was pleasant to see them jump over the bow wave. They followed us for about twenty minutes and then they suddenly increased their speed and we realised how fast they could swim. It was a lovely day for me and we looked out and they came back the next day. We think it was the same group. Occasionally we were followed by an albatross.

Day by day the weather got hotter and some POWs did not want to stay below decks as it was very stuffy. The guards did not object. I clambered up to the life raft at night. The first night I did this I was too cold so the next night I took my eiderdown. Unfortunately the eiderdown was moistened by dew in the night and became heavier as a consequence. I had no opportunity of drying it again before we reached colder climates.

At the Gulf of Panama, the ship dropped anchor and as soon as it was anchored there pelicans which flew in formations, one leader typically followed by three or four others. There was a flat calm, suddenly they would dive together for fish. It was amusing to us. Time went slowly and we saw the lights of Panama City. It was not until we had spent two nights on this pond that we weighed anchor and left for the mouth of the Canal. It seemed to us that we could reach the branches of trees on the sides of the canal, and we passed all the banana trees but could not get near enough to pick any. As we entered the first lock, we noticed a system designed to centralise the ship in the lock. This system consisted of tram-like vehicles on each side which were drawn by a cable system, six on each side. When we were in the second lock I was high enough in the life raft to see for about a kilometre. There was a huge boat coming round the corner and it turned out to be a cruiser. We were puzzled because we could not see a name, it was not until it was parallel that we realised it was a German ship. There was a 鈥淗oorah鈥�, we could talk to them and ask where they were bound. They could not tell us but wished us Bon Voyage. We would have jumped over to them if possible. We had been warned that anyone jumping off the ship would be shot at. The boat turned out to be the 鈥淧rinz Eugen鈥� 鈥� 6 months later we were in a Nissan hut in England and heard over the radio that she was to be tested by an atomic bomb in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The radio belonged to a POW, he had bought it in America, it was the only one which we had in a big Nissan hut. We were about 70 POWs in that hut in RAF Marham (Norfolk).

This was the highlight of the whole canal experience, a civil engineering masterpiece which had taken from 1913 until 1918 and it cost a lot of lives (c400). Life was cheap in those days, but Cannonfodder Rudolf survived.

Note: The 鈥淧rinz Eugen鈥� had sailed with the Bismark into battle (May 1941) in the Denmark Strait.

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