POW march across Germany, 1945. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Easter day dawned, much the same as any of the other days before, - except that today we had some breakfast - and that must have been the first time for just over 2.5 years for me and longer for many of my companions. We were asked to emphasise that nobody must attempt to leave the Camp and this we did. There was still a lot of work to be done but I managed to get an hour, during the morning, to attend a drumhead service conducted by an American padre in the field where our marquees were situated. It was a marvellous service. I had attended church every Sunday in Stalag VIIIB and taken communion, both under my own faith as CofE and, on alternate weeks as a Non-Conformist, but this service was so different. It was a lovely morning, the sun was shining, there was a large congregation both American and British - it was a very moving ceremony. Just before lunchtime Major Morton told me he had reports that ex POWs were leaving the camp by various means i.e. any way except through the main gate and he wanted a roll call of each compound. I returned to my own compound to arrange the roll call - it seemed the Major was right - I was 102 men short on the count. When I got back to our H/Q I found the story was the same from the American compound (148 short) and the French and goodness knows how many Russians had gone as well. The Major was very annoyed and we agreed that directly after lunch we would start investigating.

The Americans had opened a special Mess for their officers who were coming and going to and from the Front Line and also for the US staff working in the camp. It was fully staffed by cooks from the 3rd Army and was quite something. I was invited to become a member of the Mess because I was working as the Senior British Officer and hadn't got time to get my own food ready. I was very pleased about this as it meant I hadn't got to go back to my barrack each time I needed a meal

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The food was excellent and the place was conducted on the usual lavish American lines. I lunched at the mess and then we started our tour of investigation. It didn’t take long to establish HOW the chaps got out. They had adopted the old POW method of going under the barbed wire, aided and abetted on this occasion by members of the 3rd US Army who very considerately cut the wire for them, from the outside.

In the meantime a steady stream of Germans were being brought in as prisoners and were held in the camp; as they were rounded up and whilst they awaited transport to the main prison camps - it was amazing how demoralised they looked - there was no sign of the jackboots or the goosestep in this lot!

Hereabouts we ran into our first bit of serious trouble. When I returned to the Compound one of my Barrack Commanders - CPO Eric Fox RN, was waiting for me to report that the lads were having serious trouble with the Russians. It appeared that they were welcomed into the compound by our chaps but had immediately started stealing things. When the British boys tried to prevent the stealing the trouble started. Eric had managed to throw them all out but feared they might try to come back after dark, and really go to town. We talked about it, he was a very sound type with about 24 years service in the Royal Navy, and not given to panic. Finally, we decided we would have to mount a picket on the gate to stop any unwelcome visitors coming in at night. I returned to the HQ and reported the matter to Major Morton and he told me the Yanks had got the same trouble in their compound. He was of the opinion that an unarmed picket would have no chance of stopping the Russians and he didn’t want any of the American or British contingent to get hurt. He therefore suggested that we should mount an armed guard on both the British and American compounds. He proposed to issue 10 rifles to each compound with 10 rounds of live ammunition for each rifle, so that we could maintain a full guard of 2 men on the gate of the compound with 4 armed guards patrolling the wire. It seemed very drastic but I returned to the British compound and called a meeting of the Barrack Commanders. I explained the situation but said I would refuse the offer if they were against it. After a short discussion they were unanimous that we should accept. We decided that each barrack should take its turn to supply the guards and that only apparently responsible people should be detailed for guard duty. I took a party down to H/Q and drew the rifles and ammunition from the armoury - happily we never had to use them.

This incident highlighted our greatest problem - the Russians. Communication with them was extremely difficult owing to the language
barrier, yet we wanted to treat them exactly the same as all the other ex POWs. It was obvious they didn’t trust us and they seemed to have nobody who could speak either English or German so we had to find somebody who could speak Russian. The grapevine told me we had just such a chap in our compound - he was one of the Palestinians who was a Jugoslav by origin. I never knew his surname but he was known as Peter to us. He wasn’t one of the favourite characters in the compound as people had always been suspicious of him. However, I had no complaints and I sought him out and asked him if he would help. Naturally, he was a bit wary, so I invited him down to H/Q to talk it over with Major Morton. We talked to him for a few minutes and he agreed to help. We therefore appointed him Compound Commander of the Russian Compound and we had no more trouble.

The day ended on a much lighter note. When I returned to the compound I was told that our 'defaulters' were drifting back and when I got back to my room there was deputation from the Palestinians contingent they said they wanted some advice. Apparently whilst they were out they had visited a small farm and has purchased a sheep. They hadn't stolen it, they had bought it with some soap, coffee and other items they had received in their PX rations. Their trouble was that, according to their religion, all meat had to be hung for 24 hours before being cooked and they didn’t know how to hang it - could I help? I couldn’t but Yorky was just their boy. I asked him to go along with them and show them what to do. He obliged. Later on that night when I was making my final 'rounds' of the barracks I went into the Palestinian barracks and there I saw the sheep - neatly suspended between 2 sets of bunks with 4 Hebrews solemnly sitting round it. I asked why the ceremony and they assured me they were mounting guard all night to make sure the sheep didn’t 'walk' or be helped on its way by any light fingered member of the community.

On parade on the Monday morning it was remarkable to note that we were up to strength again - all our absentees had returned - the same way as they went - through the wire. I had asked for a working party the previous day to clean up the compound. We were using the Germans to do any jobs for us so the party was no problem. As the parade finished I was told the working party had arrived and I found 15 nondescript Krauts waiting my instructions. They were a mixed bunch, some Wehrmacht, some Luftwaffe, apparently we were gathering them in from all quarters. I spotted a Luftwaffe feldwebel (sergeant) and he looked the brightest of the lot. I told him he was in charge and explained exactly what I wanted doing. He, of course, recognised my uniform and, amazing as it may seem, there seemed to be a rapport straight away. I had always been treated well by the few Luftwaffe bods I had met. Apparently, even in the Third Reich, there was the same feeling between the Luftwaffe and the Wehrmacht as existed between the RAF and the Army, at home - the luftwaffe were regarded as the 'Brylcream' boys, just as we were. As an afterthought I called this particular German back and asked him if he smoked. He grinned and said he would if he had any tobacco. I have him a cigarette, and one for his mate, also from the Luftwaffe. I had a packet of Jugoslavian tobacco in my pocket, which I had acquired from somewhere, so I gave him that and a packet of cigarette papers. I don’t know if you have every experienced any mid-European tobacco - if you haven't, you have missed quite an experience - I had never been able to give it away to my own comrades, even when they had nothing else to smoke. When you lit it and drew on your pipe or cigarette it literally blew your cap off. Personally, I could get along with it - but, then, I like strong tobacco. You may think I wasn’t doing much of a favour to my prisoner by giving him this stuff - but he was delighted - and the result was really comical. I left them to it and went down to H/Q and didn’t return until about 2pm, by which time the working party had finished the cleaning up. I went to my room and I was truly amazed at the sight which greeted me. The place was absolutely spotless. The buttons on my greatcoat had been polished and a pair of light shoes which I had with me had been cleaned and laid out all ready for wearing. The whole place, floors cupboards, shelves, table had been scrubbed white and even the pots and pans we had managed to 'acquire' had been polished. I got hold of Yorky, my batman friend, and castigated him for doing all that unnecessary work, telling him I could still clean my own shoes and when I wanted the pans polished I would ask him to do it.

He stared at me, over the top of his glasses, 'unnecessary work be boogered' he exclaimed in his broad Yorkshire accent 'ye doant think I'm fool enough to do that, do you - even for you? Y'oud better have a word with your bloody Nazi mates - that so and so feldwebel from the luftwaffe came in here, turfed me out of my own kitchen and then turned about 4 of them loose in here. When I was let back in, this is what it looked like. Pity you hadn't got a pound of that bloody camel dung you gave him to smoke - he'd probably have pinched you a bloody aeroplane to go home in.' Yes, being a POW, or rather an ex POW, had its lighter moments, which was just as well as I had a very serious problem on my mind at the time.

When I had arrived at H/Q that morning I found the US Major in a very bad mood. First of all he had one of his own blokes on a charge - of stealing - which didn’t please him at all and I sat through the charge with him - it was very interesting to watch how they handled such an event - so different from what we were allowed to do - if I had treated a ranker the way he did I would have been court-martialled myself and probably slung out. However, that was their business. Then came the really serious bit. He sent everyone out of the room except the US senior rank and myself and then he told us that he had had a most serious complaint - that a German girl, down in the village, had been raped by 2 ex POWs the previous afternoon. Remember, this was the day when so many of our chaps had gone AWOL. Needless to say rape is regarded as a most serious crime within our military code and rape of any enemy alien was even worse. I just couldn’t see that any of our chaps would be involved. True, many of them were, without doubt, in the village that afternoon, true, also many of them had had no contract with the opposite sex for a long long time and equally true, that few of them would regard a German girl as an 'enemy', but against that it was amazing how quickly people had adapted themselves to freedom and British discipline. Furthermore, there was the question of physical condition. Although we had had a couple of days on the ample rations the Americans so kindly provided, we had had three months of almost complete starvation plus several years of inadequate feeding and a gruelling and totally exhausting march of 600 miles behind us - the total result was that, physically, very very few would have been capable of committing rape - even if they opportunity arose. No - it just couldn’t have been our chaps. I put these arguments to Major Morton and my American counterpart was equally vehement in his denials. The major was obviously impressed but said 'Even if I agree with all you say, I've still got to clear the case - and I don’t have to tell you what it means if either a GI or an Englishman is involved.

I sought the assistance of a local plumber who had been called to complete work on the camp. He was a poor, scared looking, old man of about 5'5" - a typical German peasant - obviously very apprehensive and prepared to be very wary. I asked him to sit down and Yorky handed him a cup of coffee and we gave him some bread and cheese and a cigarette. He was obviously stunned by this treatment but it didn’t stop him enjoying the snack. When he settled down I told him why I wanted to talk to him. I asked him if he had seen any Britishers in the village the previous afternoon. Yes, he had - in fact one of them had called at his house and asked him for a drink of water. Apparently his wife had offered them some milk, which they had accepted, most gratefully. He had invited them in, to sit down and rest, but they had refused but he said how courteous they had been to his wife and how they had insisted in paying for the milk. He said 'what nice boys' they were and how he had enjoyed talking to them.

I then told him that two of these 'nice boys' had been accused of raping one of the village girls, and I had to find out who the culprits were. The mild, frightened little man jumped up from his chair and called us a few choice names (in German of course) and said the Russkies were responsible.

We pressed him for details (after he had calmed down again) and it appeared that whilst he had not actually seen the incident he had, as I had hoped, heard all about it and, in fact, his friend in the village had, indeed, witnessed it. This was good enough for me. I took the little German down to the US Major and got him to repeat his story. He said he was quite willing to go down to the village and bring his friend back. We accepted his offer and he was taken, under escort, in a jeep back to the village and the friend was located.

When they returned they were both cautioned and asked to make a statement. The friend was just another elderly German peasant, certainly not hostile in his attitude and he told us a story very much the same as the plumber, with the addition that he was able to describe what he said had happened. The whole incident took place in the main village street - on an Easter Sunday afternoon, mark you - and the two men concerned were Russians. There seemed no doubt on this point - the German was able to describe them and also their uniforms, in detail. His only doubt seemed to be whether the girl was actually raped or whether it was just a 'valiant' attempt by our allies. So far so good. We got the name and address of the girl concerned and dismissed the two witnesses. Our plumber friend insisted on returning to my compound to complete the job I had interrupted, his friend was taken home. We were all satisfied - and very relieved - that we had been able to exonerate the British and US contingents. However, to make the matter absolutely certain, it was decided that the girl must be interviewed. We arranged for the military police to go along to see her. This was done and her statement tallied with the information we had - she was certain the men were Russians. So a very unpleasant incident was closed. We could do very little about the Russians, except to keep them confined to their compound, well guarded, so that the couldn’t repeat the offence.

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