´óÏó´«Ã½

We were a territorial battalion and had been sent to the Doullens area to try to hold up the German advance whilst the majority of the BEF were evacuated.

We had encountered the German armoured division on May 20th 1940 at a small village station named l’Arbret.

We were woefully equipped compared to the German forces. I believe that we had 3 Bren guns and 3 anti-tank rifles plus a couple of mortars and our Lee Enfield rifles between the whole battalion. Our enemy consisted of a Panzer Division and an Infantry Regiment.

A truckload of us had taken over the railway station earlier that morning. Just before the first German tank showed up our officer had shouted ‘everyman for himself’ and everybody evacuated the station. Except for Sid Bartlett and myself. We had been posted at the top of the building and were the last to reach the station entrance. As we attempted to leave we came face to face with a German tank a few hundred yards away which was firing in our direction. We dived back into the station and out of the back of the building and across the railway lines. Taking cover in the long grass of a field just as a German tank came rumbling along the railway track beside where we were lying but unfortunately not noticing us.

The sound of the German armour went on for hours as they pressed on. Through the night we listened to the continual rumbling and clanking and the grinding of the vehicles. And there was a crimson glow over the village from the burning buildings. The sounds finally ceased and we awaited the arrival of daylight.

Undecided on our next move, we saw a group of French soldiers with an officer, crossing the field and thinking that they would have a better idea than we of which direction to take, we tagged on the back. But they didn’t seem overwhelmed to see us. In fact they ignored us both.

Because there was still German transport going along the main road we went through woodland mostly.

Eventually arriving at a small village we were taken to a cottage and given food and wine. After that the French party moved on to a large farm and entered one of the stables and lay on the straw. They laid one side and Sid and I laid on the other. There was no attempt at conversation between us. The people from this farm brought us some food. But the next day after a villager came in with the news that the Germans were heading our way and searching houses and only a few miles away, the French party slipped away whist we were asleep.

Sid and I were deciding on our best plan of action when the lady from the farm appeared and told us to follow her. We went to a loft that had a huge pile of grain on the floor and then she produced some civilian clothes and told us to put them on and to bury our uniforms in the pile of grain.

Thanking her we made our way across the large courtyard towards the farm entrance — just as a German officer and a companion walked in. The officer had a drawn revolver and the other soldier had grenades sticking from the tops of his boots and into his belt.

They shouted to us to stop and searched the two of us. But luckily for us neither of them understood the French language and we were allowed to carry on. The lady from the farm had given us some biscuits as we left and I offered them one. This they laughingly refused and we very relieved to have got out of a difficult position. We walked away just following whichever way the road took us. After about two of three miles we had been stopped and searched four times by sentries posted along the roadside. On one occasion we were nearly discovered because the German who stopped us was able to speak a little of the French language. Luckily I could speak a little as we had been taught it at school. Although not very good it was enough to bluff him and we were allowed to continue.

After spending the night sleeping in an old chicken run at the rear of a cottage and feeling frozen and cramped we joined in amongst the thousands of civilian refugees that were passing. We walked about 30 kilometres that day. That night we slept in a barn in Bapaume.

The following morning we continued amongst the other refugees but after only a mile or so, we realised that there were two German sentries ahead of us stopping everybody and checking identifications. We reached them and I attempted to converse with them in French. Luckily neither of them could speak French either and after talking with each other, they sent us off down a side road. We were soon able to find a road, which took us back on to the road with the refugees.

A good many miles further on, and a storm began. Sid and I entered a barn behind a farmhouse for shelter. The barn was empty and after covering ourselves with some straw and old sacks we slept.

I awoke suddenly when something struck me. It was a saucepan, and it had been thrown by a German soldier. He and five or six others had dragged a field kitchen in from the storm outside. He was shouting and then scrambled over to us to search us. After waving their rifles they let us go. Breathing a sigh of relief we had only just departed when we were stopped by a German officer. He could speak decent French too. He asked where we were heading and I mentioned the name of the town that I thought was nearby. ‘How far is this town?’ he asked, and I said ‘one or two kilometres’. He seemed surprised and I found out afterwards that it was actually about thirty.

Instead of letting us go, he took us to a church which was packed with refugees. The following day we were allowed to carry on. When we later arrived at another large town everyone was being stopped for some form of identification. This time Sid and I managed to avoid the sentries and quietly slipped away down a minor road. Again we later rejoined the main column of refugees. When we found out that we were heading for the Belgian border we anticipated another identity check there, so we left the main road and went out into the quieter area of the countryside on our own.

We came to a deserted brewery and entered it. The owners had fled after turning on the taps of the large vats. We paddled through the beer and after filling our old suitcases with bottles we left.

Later we arrived at a tiny village with a sign saying that we were at the French/Belgium border. After entering Belgium and walking several kilometres we hadn’t encountered one German and felt fairly secure. I thought that we might head for a town named Gand which I believe had canals which could perhaps help us get back to England with the assistance of a friendly boat owner. Whilst we were walking through some woods near to Audenarde/Oudenarde(?), we were halted by two German officers on horseback. One of them could speak fluent French and asked whether we knew who owned the woods. He soon realised that my French was pretty dubious and that Sid had no knowledge of the language at all. We were consequently ordered to follow them to a large farmhouse that was occupied by a large number of officers and men. One of them interrogated us as to where we were going, where we had come from and if we had identification. I said that we had come from Bapaume. He produced a large map and when I showed him where it was, he said how did you cross the Belgium border without identification. When I said we had simply walked across the border, he said that was impossible. After that they gave us a good meal and I thought that we might have bluffed our way through. My optimism vanished when we were questioned again by another officer who could speak not only French but also English. Realising the game was up, we admitted to who we were and they took us to a large field that was full of French prisoners, and one Scotsman.

After being marched for about a week, together with thousands of French, Belgians and Moroccan prisoners we three decided to escape. At this time we were wearing Belgian greatcoats over our civvy clothes. The next day we got into position in the middle of the endless column of prisoners. After passing through one town we arrived at a section of road that had a ditch covered with small bushes and trees running along beside us.

Because of the vast number of prisoners, we three slipped down into the ditch without any of the guards with us being aware and we laid there until the last column had disappeared from view. It was 10.00am.

Dumping our greatcoats we quickly made our way down a quiet lane and into a small wood about half a mile away. When we came to the first village we found an empty house with a garage attached. The house was locked, but the garage was not and we lived in the garage for two or three days. We obtained bread from nearby houses. When we left, we broke into the house and found cigarettes and other items we needed.

Two days after arriving at a large farm, we knocked on the door, but there was no reply. So we found a way in and discovered lots of clothes hanging up. We changed some of our old clothes for the better class ones. I had an overcoat, silk shirt and tie. The Scotsman with us found a pair of shoes, overcoat and a trilby hat. We lit a fire and from the large garden outside, got onions and potatoes. As there were also chickens running about we killed one and made a tasty soup. After having washed we walked to the nearby village. We had been given a few francs from somewhere along the way by a lady, so we bought a beer each in a little café we came to. And all the time we were passing German troops who never stopped us once.

Later we thought that we would return to the farm but on arriving there we met a gentleman (who turned out to be the owner) together with a gendarme and several villagers. We admitted that we were English and after deliberating amongst themselves, they said that we could sleep in a barn belonging to one of the men that night. We were speaking to the owner of the clothes that we were wearing for about half an hour without him recognising this.

The following morning, starting off early, we reached a place named Namur. This was a large town and was full of German troop so we kept walking and after a few miles past Namur and out in the country once more, we came to a village. Some of the villagers came up to speak to us, and learning that we were British, they took us to an unoccupied house. It was fully furnished, with beds and bedding, lots of books also. We made a fire and slept in nice clean sheets that night. Next morning a woman arrived with lots of food for us that she had collected from her neighbours and also a young girl who was the village hairdresser came to give us all a haircut. There was a large wireless set in the house which we found and also a violin.

What we did not know however was that the Germans had imposed a 10pm curfew in the area and which the Belgian gendarmes had to enforce. And at 11pm we had all the lights on and we were singing, with Sid trying to pay the violin.

Our stupidity was our undoing. There was a loud knocking on the window with a lot of shouting. Although we put out the lights and kept quiet, the back door opened and two gendarmes entered. After we explained who we were, they said that they were afraid of the Germans but we could stay for the night, but we must leave before daylight when they would return. When they came back at seven am we were still asleep. They took us back to Namur and handed us over to the German authorities. In a huge building they were using as headquarters, we were taken one at a time to be questioned by some officers.

I saw my mate Sid come out of the interrogation room and he was looking a bit unhappy which didn’t help my morale at all and then it was my turn.

When I entered the room there were two officers, one sitting in an armchair, the other standing. The one who was standing was in a benevolent mood and said ‘would you like a cigarette’? When I accepted, he lit it for me but then his mood suddenly changed and he bellowed ‘siddown’! He followed this with ‘if you tell us one lie you will be taken out and shot’. ‘Who are you’? When I said that we were soldiers he said ‘I think that you are spies’ then he said ‘where did your clothes come from’? I replied that we got them from a farm to which he said ‘I don’t believe you, because they fit too well. I think your government supplied you with them so that you could spy behind our lines’ all the time he was translating our replies into German for the benefit of his companion who didn’t understand English.

Not wishing to come to a sticky end I then showed him my army pay book and some family photographs, after he had looked at them and conferred with his mate, Sid was also brought in.

Addressing Sid, the English speaking officer said ‘do you know a song called we are going to hang out the washing on the Siegfried Line’? When Sid replied that he did, the officer sang it’! After that he translated it into German for the benefit of his companion whereupon they both roared with laughter. Then he said to us ‘well, you are going to Germany where you will be able to hang out your washing on the Siegfried Line’.

We were then taken to a place named Gembloux and then to Leige, and finally to a place named Huy. Here, we were put into a fort in which were eight other British prisoners, plus French and Belgians. After a month we were taken to Dortmund in Germany. After three nightmare days locked inside cattle trucks we arrived at Torun in Poland where we were given our POW numbers, finger printed, heads shaved and photographed.

We had been on the run for over three weeks in enemy territory ands we had walked from near Doullens in France to Cambrai, Maubeuge, Mons, Tournai and to being captured near Audenarde for the first time. From Wavre we went to Namurand towards Charleroi when we were caught for the second time.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.