In May 1945, my dad and his two 'pals', Bill Peryer and Steve, had left the column of PoWs being marched away from the camps by the Germans and had made their way to Dux in Czechoslovakia where they found shelter with a small group of English PoWs in a work camp at the porcelain factory. One of their number heard Churchill's speech on 8th May 1945 and so they knew the war was over.
This is part of my dad's diary account of that day:
"We heard a rattle of tanks and a little firing of small arms. This indicated the arrival of the Russians in the main street. Gradually we crept towards the street and I had my first glimpse of a Russian tank. It was covered with soldiers (including women) who clutched a rifle or tommy gun each. They stood anywhere on the outside of the tank and all the time I was there, I did not see one Russian soldier wearing a steel helmet. As soon as 8 or 9 tanks had gone by, the column came to a halt as the first tank was evidently confronted by another barrier at the other side of the town.
As the noise died away, we moved out into the street and saw that most of the Russians had dismounted. They were grimy but very cheerful. One or two strolled over to us and our first job was to impress on them our nationality. Someone said ‘Engliski’ and that did the trick. Their faces widened with a grin and out shot their hands. They had a grip like a vice and a fist like a football. Due to languages, we could say nothing - only reciprocate in actions. They said something about America, England and Russia and put their hands together which dispelled any fears we may have had. They showered German cigarettes on us and from that day onwards we smoked like chimneys.
A few minutes later, we noticed a party of Russian officers approaching. As they drew level the corporal called us to attention and saluted the party. One of the party who was evidently in charge spoke to a colleague who spoke to us in German. He asked were we French. We tried to look indignant and the corporal informed him we were English. Their faces lit up and they conversed together. The German-speaking officer then asked if we had been ill treated by any Germans and if so to point them out and the Russians would dispose of them on the spot. The officer in charge emphasised his colleague's words by putting his hands to his own throat and stamping his feet. I gather from those actions he was a rather nasty person to cross. He told us we could carry on as he proceeded up the road.
From the top windows of the houses, flags began to appear all along the street. The most amusing thing about it was the fact that those flags were put out when Hitler first occupied Czechoslovakia. They were the national flags, red and white halves and in the centre one could clearly see a clean, circular patch where the swastika once adorned the flag. Red flags were also prominent and gradually the civilians made an appearance on the streets as they saw the Russians allowing people to live on! Many old women were weeping, so great was their relief.
I’m afraid the Russians didn’t live up to that first day, but of course they were front line troops. Those who followed in their wake were looting and committing all sorts of terrible crimes. The same night, they invaded the wine cellars in the town square and all night we heard shots and shouts. Our safest place was, obviously, inside the factory! I had a sound sleep that night as I was very fatigued by the marching I had done."
from the WW2 diaries of Bert Martin, Gunner, 67th Medium Regiment, Royal Artillery, PoW 1942-45
Lovely shot, my dad was in London celebrating and bumped into his brother who he had not seen for years as he was based in Africa. Just such a great story, considering how many people were in London at the time.. Fav
Many thanks - I'm always a bit concerned I'll bore folk so I'm happy that this interested you.
Thanks for sharing this chapter of you Dad`s interesting dairy .
I hope your dad got home too?