Gordon Bourner's War Chapter 2

PRISONER

We were marched off to a nearby field for the night, at the mercy of the elements. For the next six weeks or so the pattern of being herded along from sunrise to sunset, and sleeping in the open at night was to be our unchanging routine.

On the first day, we joined 4,000 French and Belgian prisoners of war, and after about four hours marching we stopped by a village for the guards to change. Some French villagers gave us some soup. (Our steel helmets came in very useful here.) After a while, I came over very cold and felt ill. A kind French lady could see my condition and she asked her husband to help me. He promptly put me on the top of a huge boiler and gave me some cognac to warm me. I lay there asleep until our new guards arrived in the late afternoon. The Frenchman woke me, gave me a round cheese and wished me luck. We marched on, eventually stopping for the night in a huge brickyard. I made myself a bed of bricks, which was just as well as it rained heavily - all night. Fortunately I had kept my greatcoat, which saved me from getting soaked.

During the seemingly endless march no food was provided, so that we were forced to raid crops from the fields. With 4,000 prisoners of war ahead of us, the British troops were generally left with the peelings left from their spoils. A typical midday meal consisted of stewed grass, nettles and peelings. I was constipated for two weeks! On one occasion, while waiting for a midday meal, a squadron of Stukkas flew over us, very low; I remember that this was particularly frightening.

The marching was arduous. If anyone of us felt that he could not manage it and fell out of line he had to face a crucial decision: either he could force himself to complete the days journey, or he would be shot through both legs and left to die; there was no one available to care for injured men. However, many soldiers took it in turns to carry their injured friends, leaving them to be tended when we passed through a village.

Our march was directed along the German supply route to the coast; the Germans were preparing for the invasion of Great Britain. As we marched we saw the supplies being taken for the invasion. Significant amongst these supplies were: pontoon bridges (to be stretched across the channel), tanks, an array of artillery and many specialist troops. The purpose behind the Germans marching us along their supply route was to protect their line from attack from the British Air Force. However, R.A.F. aeroplanes did often "have a go" so that on many occasions we had to dive for cover, usually into the closest ditch.

Eventually, after four weeks, we reached the Belgian border a line down the high street in a village. We continued marching to the foot of Trier Mountain. Our route was to take us to a prisoner-of-war camp a third of the way up the mountain itself, a route that was wet, cold and steep. On the morning following our arrival we lined up to be photographed. We had identification discs hung round our necks on which were chalked our details, then, click, the photograph was taken. Next day we were given metal identification discs to be worn round our necks at all times; I was the 722nd prisoner up to that point.

I developed an intense toothache. I was particularly worried as our doctor had informed us that we had no drugs nor dressings. When I sat down with other prisoners-of- war waiting for dental treatment, an orderly confirmed what the doctor had told us. The room cleared, 1 was the only one left. 1 went into the "surgery" and sat down. The doctor looked into my mouth and said that one of my molars had broken off and was full of decay. I elected to have the remains extracted.' Two hands clamped across my forehead like steel bands; 1 felt someone’s knee on my chest. The doctor used a pair of builder’s pliers for the operation, having first advised me to pray - 1 did.

The camp on Trier Mountain was a distribution centre. Soon we left there, heading south. At one point we had to cross a small bridge, where we had to pass dozens of local people who shouted abuse at us. For "good luck" a woman broke away from her line and spat into my eye, telling me that I was an “English pig!” Had I been able to retaliate I would have pushed her into the water running beneath the bridge.

We continued to a railway station south of Luxembourg. We stopped by a river to wash, and even a part bath here was welcome as 1 was filthy. 1 was surprised to learn that my sunburnt hands were not sunburnt at all, just dirty. With the aid of some sand and the water from the river, I changed colour and smelt better. When I took off my army sug boots, 1 saw that I had worn the soles (studded soles at that!) down to the ground; 1 was through to the paper lining. I bound the boots with anything to hand: wire, string - anything.

Next day, we were put aboard cattle trucks, although we were not told where we were going. We were loaded about fifty to a truck with no toilet facilities and scarce food. (I do not think 1 should give the full, unpleasant details here.) Under these conditions, the journey seemed to go on for ever.

Our destination turned out to be a small village outside the town of Poznan; Poznan was large enough to be a city. The weather, by now, was very hot and dry. We lined up, but with very few uniformed guards. Instead, we now had plain clothed security guards, complete with pistols in their hip pockets. On arrival, we were herded to a fortress, just outside Poznan, called Fort Winary. As we were marched along, our guards made announcements to the public through loud hailers: "These are Churchill’s soldiers, sent to free you." The townspeople saw only filthy boys!

We were housed in the cellars of Fort Winary. These were at moat level, having windows only two feet six inches long and one foot six inches deep and iron grills; there was no possibility of escape. We were put to work carrying out tasks that were forbidden under the Geneva Convention, but then we had not been registered as prisoners of war. These tasks included unloading tanks and field guns, captured in Russia; loading guns and other munitions, plus goods and uniforms for the front line. Sabotage was carried out in many ways and, unfortunate1y, I was caught filling the oil sump on a truck with sand. With a group of other soldiers, 1 was sent to a punishment camp at another fort for six months. This was June 24th 1940, my twenty first birthday.

Two soldiers were waiting on the drawbridge of this second fort to shave off our hair. To begin each day our food ration was three hard tack biscuits (4" by 2 1/2" by 3/8") and a small piece of sausage but there was a bigger problem with this food than its meagre amount: the biscuits were as hard as marble! Once again we were in cellars, but unlike Fort Winary there were no bunks provided. Instead we had to sleep on straw placed on bricks - which were damp. Washing facilities consisted of ice cold water from a pump and green German soap (one bar per month, 2" by 1 1/2" by 3/4") which produced no lather. When the soap ran out, sand was the only, painful, answer. Each morning at seven o’clock we went out in working parties to a site three to six miles away. We began work on site at about eight o’clock not returning until six or seven o’clock in the evening. We worked alongside Polish people who, because of the German invasion of their country, were particularly kind to us. They gave us some of their rations even though they barely had enough to survive themselves.

When we returned from each day's work with certain guards we were made to stand on parade for an hour before being dismissed. We knew that we would manage only a few hours sleep for, unless we rose between four and five a.m., we would not be able to wash - even then we had to pump the water for each other; but personal cleanliness was vital if we were to survive. During the day our food ration had been one loaf of bread per five men, a portion of sausage or German quark cheese. This all took a lot of swallowing as the brown military issue bread was dry and stale and, often, covered in green mould. When we got back from the day’s work we were given soup to supplement the bread. These soups varied in flavour between, mostly, fish, swede, mixed vegetables, sauerkraut, potato, celery. (It is because so much of my diet during this time consisted of soup that my teeth have suffered, because of lack of exercise.) As a matter of interest, the fish for the “clip-fish” soup we were given to eat was sent by the main road from the coast. The fish were then dressed, cleaned, hung in huge sheds to cure and then packed into store until required, mostly during the winter months.

We were regularly given food on our way to work by ordinary people, usually young and sick with hate, who would contrive to sneak us the food without the guards seeing. However, on one occasion a young pregnant girl was caught in the act. She was forced to march with us to our place of work, where she was taken away by the S.S. guards escorting us. This incident will always remain vivid in my mind. '

At the end of our six months stay we were sent to erect some barracks for Russian prisoners who were expected at any time. The temperature was thirty degrees below zero, so cold, in fact, that our eye lashes would become frosted. A Pole had been contracted to empty a sump, draining the contents into a tank on his horse and cart. One day, on his way to servicing the area tank, he passed the buildings we were erecting. The poor horse dropped dead right by us. The guards offered us the dead horse to supplement our meatless rations. No sooner said than done! That evening our meal was delicious!

Following the above job, we were transferred to a recognised camp: Bau and Arbeits 21. We now stood a chance of getting Red Cross food parcels to supplement our rations. On one particular day a huge loudspeaker was erected and we were told that an important message was to be relayed to us. The message came from “Lord Haw Haw”, a Scottish officer who had turned traitor. He was trying to entice us to join the German ranks fighting on the Russian Front and, thus, obtain our freedom. To my knowledge there were no takers. We worked at a huge factory complex that had been carved out of a huge wood and measured ten miles square in area. Factories of every kind, producing a wide range of products, had been built here, those requiring outfall facilities being situated by the river which ran from our camp.

The hoped for Red Cross food parcels did begin to arrive, which was wonderful; except that the German soldier issuing them would open up the parcels, pile tins of food on top of each other and drive his bayonet though the pile. This meant that the contents had to be eaten as soon as possible, which was not a problem, provided you did not mind syrup mixed with fish! We received one parcel between each two men. Private parcels were also coming through from relatives, and I received some from my fiancée, to whom I sent my permitted one card per month. I had been in the war for three years marked by the arrival of my elder brother, Reginald Bourner, who had been taken prisoner in Italy and sent to our camp. His arrival was not only pleasant for me personally, but he also brought up-to-date news of the war, news that was quite hopeful. Indeed, we had become aware that an increasing number of German soldiers were being sent back from the fighting fronts to work in the factories. They were exhausted and had been sent home as a punishment when they refused to fight. This indicated the failing of the German war machine, which was being fought on a front that was 3,000 miles long and too big to manage.

Something like six months after my brother's arrival we were becoming aware of reconnaissance air flights from the American air force. Air raids soon followed. The American aeroplanes would line up at one end of the factory complex and blast everything in sight. In subsequent raids 500lb and 1OOOlb "time bombs" were dropped, the Americans having first warned the public of their intentions by dropping warning leaflets. Our camp ran parallel to the river, and the latter would have been used by the attacking planes as a navigational guide. Our camp should have been lit up at night for the planes to avoid. However, the Germans would light up the whole factory complex, thus leaving us at great risk. Fortunately the raids were made during the daytime. These raids gradually became a way of life, increasing in frequency until they became daily occurrences. Warning was given when the attacking aeroplanes crossed the River Danube. As factory workers we got out of the factory complex double quick! Sometimes I got on the German workers' bus, clambering up the ladder at the back and lying flat on the roof. The driver would see me, but he did not stop me until we were about ten miles into the surrounding countryside.

Near to us were two concentration camps, one for Jewish men and the other for Jewish women. These people, who were mainly intellectuals or professionals, worked alongside us in the factories. Food was even more of problem for them than us. On one occasion, one of them stole a spoonful of sugar, but he was discovered. For this offence he was hung on one of the specially erected hanging posts by the roadside. On another occasion fellow prisoners were forced to watch four prisoners hung. (1 did have a photograph of this incident, but 1 lost it, along with my other personal possessions, in the rush to escape, that you will read about later.) One particularly frightening job assigned to these Jewish prisoners was to dig out from the factory any unexploded bombs; there was no telling whether these bombs would explode. Such incidents did little for moral, which was lowered even further when we witnessed the condition of some of our comrades; some had become so bad that they were certified insane and had to be repatriated.

The reconnaissance aeroplanes must have sighted the nearby working oil complex, as one fine Sunday the sirens wailed warning that planes had followed the river to bomb the complex. We rushed to the shelter we had built. When the bombing began, we were the first targets. We heard an ear-splitting whine and the first bomb landed at one end of our shelter; a flame shot through the shelter itself and out the other end. The roof collapsed on us, but as it had been constructed of poles covered with turfs no one was injured. However, some comrades in a concrete bunker in and adjacent camp were hit very severely. A bomb had dropped alongside this bunker collapsing its sides. Nine men had been killed and others were trapped, screaming for help, inside. "Your planes did the damage; you dig your men out" we were told. Manoeuvring huge pieces of concrete would have been unpleasant enough under normal circumstances but it was made particularly harrowing accompanied as it was by the screaming of our friends.

By now a radio had been constructed from parts obtained by bartering - chocolate worked wonders! According to the news, following years of being pushed about by Rommel's tanks, our troops were resting and re-grouping ready for a new initiative. Meanwhile Russia was turning onto the offensive, supported by American and British convoys carrying supplies via the North Sea. After years of depression, such news was very welcome, and whilst 1 considered how speaking in German for so long (vital if 1 was to survive) had resulted in my beginning to forget my own mother tongue, the news that the Russian advance was gaining momentum was supported by the occasional distant rumble of guns. We were told to be ready to move at any time. However, two friends and I discussed the situation carefully and decided that now would be the time to attempt an escape. We were frightened that the Germans might seek reprisals against us as they were forced to retreat. We planned to go east to the Russian Front, but had I known what was in store my decision would have been very different.

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