On Tuesday, I posted an account of my dad's jubilation in Sept 1943 when he was freed from being a PoW in Italy followed by his disappointment at finding he was to be a prisoner in Germany:
"We had only a short wait before our train appeared. Meanwhile we had a drink of water from some Italian women who lived nearby. Some chaps managed to scrounge some bread or odds and ends. We finally boarded our train which consisted of cattle trucks. Into each truck 40 men were herded. I found myself inside a wagon which was very crowded and we had to sit on the floor with barely room to sit comfortably and to stretch out was impossible. After half an hour or so, the Germans brought along rations of two loaves and a few raw carrots for each man. Nobody knew how long these were to last us but we were very hungry and so had a feed of dry bread and carrots. The door was pulled to and our only light came through four small ventilators. We eventually moved away on yet another mysterious journey.
The whole trip was extremely monotonous because besides being so cramped we could not see out of our wagon. I tried to peer out once or twice but the ventilator was too high and standing on tip toe was rather awkward. We travelled all night and very little sleep was had.
The next day, Thurs 23-9-43, at mid-day, the train stopped at a station where we alighted and received rations. A skilly was served up and I believe this contained barley or something similar. It was watery, but it tasted good because we were so hungry. We also received an issue of bread. This was our first sample of German bread and I was anxious to give it a try. The issue was a two kilo loaf between four men which was quite good. I was very disappointed with the flavour. Of course, we had no butter to spread on it and this did not improve matters. The taste was not unlike cake which had turned sour! I managed to eat a piece but the Italian bread was much better. I cannot recollect the name of this station.
I later succeeded in finding out some of the places through which we travelled. Those in Italy were Rovereto, Trent, Bozen, Brixen, Sterzing and we then passed through the Brenner Pass into Austria. We passed through Innsbruck, Hall, Worgl and Kutstein. I was able to see some of Austria and I can still remember the beautiful scenery there. There were many stretches of vividly green mountainsides with houses dotted here and there. I had only glimpses of this as I was peeping through a ventilator.
After several hours travelling, we were ordered to leave the wagon and climbed out and joined a column of men. We walked quite a distance and eventually saw a large camp ahead. There were a few houses but the camp itself was bang in the middle of fields. We stopped on reaching the camp and sat down while the Germans sorted us or themselves out.
We started to enter the camp later on and I learnt we were in IVB at Mulberg. The sleeping accommodation was very poor and my pal and I found ourselves in a hut which was already overcrowded. We found a place to sleep and made our beds down. It was dark by then and there were no lights and it was a difficult job trying to make a bed but at last we had a little sleep. That was on the evening of Fri 24-9-43.
The next day, we were able to get a much needed wash. The bread issue was a loaf between 5 men plus a little piece of margarine. The skilly was fairly thick and I enjoyed that at the time. During the day we had to have our hair cut off very short. I was used to that by that time and had learnt to take things as they came. There were two issues of coffee daily but this was dreadful to taste.
We spent four days in that pen and on one night we slept outside as the air was terrible inside. We pulled down the black-out shutters and laid down on them. In the morning, our blankets were covered with a heavy dew and we were almost frozen stiff. We moved out from there on Tues 28-9-43 into another pen where the conditions were equally as bad as the place we had just left. I met one or two regimental pals there, including Reg Carter whom I was with on the boat coming over.
In the next pen to us were Russian prisoners and their plight was terrible. Every day two or three died of starvation and the Germans treated them cruelly. On more than one occasion the Russians took a dead comrade on roll-call in order to draw his rations."
After a few days in this transit camp, my dad went to the workcamp at Cossebaude at the cement factory of Dickerhoff and Widmann where he remained until the end of the war.
I personally judge no nationalities in this comment but the last paragraph of this extract, more more than anything else in my dad's diaries had a profound effect on me, in fact on my first reading I really did not understand what he meant. Hence my title 'for compassion' because I continue to be horrified at man's inhumanity to man.
First of all, what an absolutely lovely photo. Secondly, wow! What an amazing back story. I agree, it is inconceivable to me that men can treat there fellow man so cruelly!
Stunning photo - wonderful detail. I still find it amazing how different your father's experience of war was to mine - two ends of an extreme, I should think. The diary extracts are very moving. What is so depressing is that the cruelty and inhumanity continues today in Syria, Iraq, Nigeria and so many other places.
Beautiful shot Hazel, very complimentary to your Dads' Diary on both counts. These records have to be cherished, and they are even more special when they are written by your loved ones.
Now of course I'm interested to know about the difference in your experience of war, Molly. I do understand what you say about the inhumanity which continues in many places. I find it quite hard to believe that nothing apparently is learnt from history
Beautiful shot Hazel, and what an amazing narrative it is to be cherished, story's like this will be needed in museums just to remind everyone how cruel war is.
Loving your fathers diary Hazel....so moving & to think all this happened almost to the day in September 1943. Men so desperate for food that they propped a comrade up to claim his rations......we still never learn...pretty much WW3 beginning in the Middle East ......I despair!
@quietpurplehaze My father had a 'good war'. Having never travelled anywhere, he joined the RAF and was in Egypt and Sudan - never saw action, but clearly enjoyed the camaraderie. For the rest of his life he used to talk with great enthusiasm about 'when I was in the war'. As I grew up and learnt about the other side of war I resented the fact that he never seemed to acknowledge this, and I became a pacifist partly in reaction. I loved my dad dearly, but I always found this aspect difficult to cope with.
@dolphin That's interesting and I guess that applied to other folk. In site of being a PoW my dad did draw some good influences from his war such as his love of classical music from the concerts given and which endured all his life. And of course there were prisoners in Japanese camps who had a much worse time than he did.
Golly Hazel, this makes fascinating reading, we have so much to be thankful for. My parents spoke very little about the war, they were married in 1945, during one of my father's leaves. He was an aerial photographer with the Fleet Air Arm, and was supposed to have as his best man a chap he'd known since they were at school together, but the man went missing in action shortly before the wedding. Their honeymoon lasted less than 12 hours, they arrived at their hotel to find a telegram waiting for him "All leave cancelled, return to base at once". My mother didn't tell me any of that until the day before I was married, 6 months before she died.
Another fascinating account. You would hope that something has been learnt by history. It must have been very scary being transported like that to an unknown destination and an unknown fate. Thank you again for sharing this with us.
Fantastic capture of this beautiful flower!!! Thanks for sharing your Dad's story!!! So sad what they were put through as prisoners of war, but glad he survived otherwise you wouldn't be here!!!
Your photo is stunningly beautiful. The petals look like cloth. I find it interesting what you shared of your dad's diary. I too live in amazement each day at the cruelty of men toward each other. And it great your dad survived and you have these written memories to share. A big FAV for your photo.
~beautiful photo, great details
Now of course I'm interested to know about the difference in your experience of war, Molly. I do understand what you say about the inhumanity which continues in many places. I find it quite hard to believe that nothing apparently is learnt from history