大象传媒

THE TRUSTED PRISONERS

I was a very small child in the war, living in a large farm house in a village in Herefordshire. We were living with my grandparents, very much as an extended family.

There were a lot of farm hands, eight men living and working there. Also, German prisoners of war came daily in a truck to work on the farm and were fed at lunch time at the farm.

At the back of the farm house, there was a building which was the wash house. It was very large and had a long table in it where all the men came in for their meals, joined by four women who did the cooking.

Living in the house with us were three young German prisoners of war. They slept upstairs in an attic extension. Their names were Hans, Max and Otto. I remember going as a small child, up to their room and seeing Otto鈥檚 toes sticking out at the bottom of his camp bed, and the other two men tickling his toes with a great deal of laughter.

In 1946 I remember that in the winter time I was given a pony. I was only two and a half years old and I remember it coming. The German prisoners used to take me out on the pony on a leading rein. These men were trusted to take me out. I had no fear of them at all. All three had children of their own in Germany. They taught my younger sister German. They were living with us for a long time after the war.

They made me toys, a stock lorry and a pram, and also a huge doll鈥檚 house, out of wood. I still have the lorry made in the style of the period. It has a ramp at the back, and the top part comes off the lorry and then you have a flat vehicle. The prisoners spoke good English, they were young Army Officers.

Eventually, after the war, two went back to their families. Otto stayed. His wife had been put in a Russian concentration camp, and was missing. Later he learnt that she had escaped. At that time, if somebody in this country paid money for a search to be made, the Red Cross would try and trace relatives. My Mother paid 拢20 for this to be done, and Otto鈥檚 wife was found in Berlin, where she had stayed alive by eating sparrows and nettles. She had escaped from prison by travelling on the under-side of a train. She had a son, but he had become separated from her, and my Mother again paid the Red Cross to make a search and he was found. They came to England to join Otto, and eventually bought a cottage locally here in Herefordshire. They lived there until Otto died. His son is still here, somewhere.

The English farming family became great friends with these Germans. Max, one of the prisoners, kept up correspondence with my Mother for years.

My grandparents who had lost many relations during the First World War, accepted these young men as nice people, and trusted them and included them in their lives.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by June Woodhouse of the CSV Action Desk at 大象传媒 Hereford and Worcester on behalf of Elizabeth Ann Glover and has been added to the site with her permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions

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