The following story was provided by Mrs Olive Brown of Strelley in Nottinghamshire for the purpose of keeping her late husband's memory alive and ensuring in the process that the privations endured by our young soldiers as Prisoners of War were not forgotten.
Private John Victor BROWN (Jack) of the 8th Battalion Sherwood Foresters dictated his memories to Olive while recuperating from an illness. No apologies are made for misspelling of place names or titles as Olive took this story down in longhand over a long period of time before her son in law Nick Richardson typed it out.
It is an interesting and sometimes amusing story that should be told for the benefit of future generations, so please read on and remember.
From the late fifties onwards I have had the urge to write of my lost five years as a prisoner of war (POW) in Poland. In my opinion a country of honest, friendly and hard working people, but rather backward in development.
I shall not dwell upon the times that I was prodded, provoked and pushed by the Germans in Norway, with both ends of a rifle or the shits that did it.
I know many men had worse and its all been said before. Nor will I comment upon the squabbles and sometimes fights we had as POW's in the first few months.
The squalor and the primitive way of life and equipment on the farms will be evident as you read on. The schooling here was not the three R's but the three M's, muck, muscle and manual work, for here there were no work saving devices.
In the spring of 1939 I joined the Territorials. I was on the staff of the Coal Board at the Bulwell Pit and was a shot firer, my wage being �4.15 a week, which was very good at that time.
A Territorial unit was being formed by a part owner of the colliery. He was, I believe, an officer in the First World War. We were to be a feed unit of the 8th Sherwood Foresters. Staff from the colliery were made NCOs (Non Commissioned Officers) and the workers who joined were infantry, I started as a full Corporal.
We were taken on a fortnights training holiday to Wales under canvas with Army instructors and introduced to Army life.
In September 1939 war was declared. We were at war with Germany and we Sherwood Foresters were the first to be called up.
It wasn't long before the authorities realised that the pits couldn't work without shot firers and miners.
I had been detailed to go on a physical training course of 6 weeks duration. All the others from Bulwell Pit had been recalled when I returned. They were all my mates; they had gone back to the pit. I, as a trained PT instructor was refused unless I paid �250 for my release. I didn't have that kind of money, which was a big sum in those days.
The first few weeks of the war I was in charge of ACK ACK duties around Hucknall aerodrome. Our quarters were a Bell tent. On and off duties we slept on the airfield and some nights we were allowed home. We also did some work for the local farmer in the nature of potato picking. Some nights we slept under the hangers at the aerodrome. This was all right when the weather was fine and dry, but when it rained the water ran through the hanger and all the palliasses would get wet. So the solution was all but those on duty on ACK ACK were sent home. Bestwood lodge was being prepared for us to take up billets there and we would travel to the aerodrome in lorries from Bestwood Lodge when on ACK ACK duties at Hucknall airfield. We had an RSM (Regimental Sergeant Major) from the regular army visit us and everything was done by order with him even to riding bikes.
After duties at Bestwood Lodge he would command us to mount our bicycles. The orders were "prepare to mount" which meant put your left foot in the pedal, and on the word mount you pushed three times with your right foot, cocked your leg and got on the saddle. However, some men weren't very good at this and when they fell all those at the back of them finished up on top of them. This was one operation they didn't repeat. By now Bestwood lodge was finished and we were regularly billeted there.
All my friends had got back to the pit and the unit was now made up of men from Retford and the surrounding area. It was after this that we were sent to Shildon County Durham. I had forfeited my corporal stripes in my endeavour to get back to the pit. I was told that while I was an NCO I couldn't hope to get back, especially with my PT training. So when I went to Shildon I went as Private 4977616 and after 6 weeks full training I passed as an infantry soldier. At Shildon we were in an old railway station house and the people there had been warned about soldiers and that they would wreck the town. Nobody had a word for us. We were there many weeks before they realised we were just ordinary people.
After a while we were accepted and we began to socialise, cups of tea and pieces of cake, and this made things much better for us because the billets here were very cold and draughty.
Our weekly pay was 7s-6d married men and 15s-0d single men. Out of the 7s-6d I had 1s-6d stopped for Barrack damages. Every man had to pay this 1s-6d whether he had damaged anything or not.
There was plenty of snow here and we would slide down the hills which made perfect toboggan runs. We also did a lot of PT and running through the snow in the early morning, when it was very cold. We were all of the opinion that we were being prepared for the cold conditions that we would experience in Finland, where we were expecting to go. The huge thick fur coats that we tried on, left us in no doubt that we would not get sun burnt on this trip. All this fizzled out however in early December 1939 when Finland surrendered to the Russians. The Arctic clothing was withdrawn and we were in the right place when Hitler decided to take Norway. Whilst we were here we were taken out six men at a time to learn to drive. This was very frightening. A driver and a learner would sit in the front of a truck and four men would sit in the back hanging on for dear life whilst the man in the front was taught to drive. The truck would be going very slowly one second then pick up to a terrific speed the next. Those in the back of the truck would find themselves on their backs in the road if they did not cling on tightly. It certainly was a hair-raising event. Double de-clutching was the way of being taught to drive. This de-clutching would make the truck jump into the air when we learners were in the driving seat.
A spare driver was needed in the team and this was my introduction to Mortars, though I much preferred to stay in the infantry, as I knew nobody in the mortar team. My wife told me that she had read in the local newspaper that these lads (meaning us) were being sent to Finland and many of them hardly knew how to fire a rifle; in most cases this was near the truth. At the time we embarked for Norway, I had the pleasure of seeing six rounds fired from this mortar and one of those was a bloody dud that had to be detonated by the bomb squad. I had six weeks Infantry training; was passed out and then sent to the mortars a few weeks before we embarked for Norway.
It was a very miserable existence here; we were not allowed home leave and my spending money had dropped from �2 a week to 6s-Os a week; that was enough for 5 cigs a day and a cup of tea now and again. We were at Shildon the whole of the winter.
In April 1940 we were sent to Rosyth in Scotland standing by because of the German invasion of Norway. Whilst at Rosyth I applied for compassionate leave to see my daughter Kathleen, our first born, but I was refused.
All leave was refused because of embarkation and so we went on board a luxury ocean going boat ready to sail to Norway.
The decks of the luxury boat were filled with Bofor ACK ACK guns and the swimming pool was full of ammunition. This luxury boat had a sumptuous lay out, the long dining table glittered with silver and for a few days we lived like Lords. We had luxurious bunk beds and excellent food and from the porthole we could see the Firth of Forth Bridge in the distance.
We were here for two or three days and then we were transferred mid stream to the Arathusa HMS light cruiser. Looking back this was hilarious, as we had to transfer from flat bottom boats to the destroyer in midstream with a six to eight foot swell. The narrow bridge between the two boats would tilt from horizontal to 60 or 70 degrees as the swell lifted the flat-bottomed boat. This was bad enough, but after circling around for two or three hours many of the soldiers were seasick and this spew was circling around too, being blown by the wind whilst the men waited to transfer from one boat to the other. This had to be done one man at a time, as the bridge between the two boats became level. The sailor on the boat pushed a soldier across the bridge and the sailor on the Arethusa would grab him to safety and so on.
Once aboard we had to keep out of the way of the sailors as they had to run the ship and we had to bed down anywhere out of the way.
The kit bags were thrown over too, some of them not making it.
Food on the ship was plentiful. Uppermost in my memory were the piles of hard-boiled eggs down the centre of the dining tables, there seemed to be hundreds of them.
After a day or so on this ship mid river in the Firth of Forth, we sailed for Norway.
I recollect how fast we must have moved for the water was breaking over the bows of the accompanying destroyers and I remember saying to a mate "Cor look at that!" meaning the huge waves.
We were not long seemingly before we were passing the magnificent fjords and approaching harbour.
The Germans had bombed the harbour and were expected back.
We were bundled off the ship very quickly. She took off immediately or else she would have been a sitting target.
People stood cheering us as we rode through the town. It was easier than we had expected. We were made to believe we would have to fight our way off the ship.
Our goal was Lillehammer. We had many sightings of the Luftwaffe as we sped along but they were evidently on their way back to base.
We were detailed by a Norwegian Officer to relieve a Mortar on what he said was a hill; to me the hill looked like a mountain. With Mortar and bombs in our truck we reached the bottom of the hill.
It took 1 to 2 hours to reach the place where the Norwegian Officer took us. Then the Norwegians withdrew with their Mortar and we were left to set ours in its place. Theirs was a four-inch Mortar and ours was only three-inch; the ground they were covering with their Mortar we couldn't hope to cover with ours. We could not reach target.
My part was to carry the base plate (about 50 lb weight) slung from my shoulder, this with rifle and pack was hard going to say the least, especially as the mountain was covered in thick snow. Four of us had to retrace our steps and bring up the bombs, which were three bombs in a case, a case in each hand.
As we made our way up with the bombs, going up two yards and slipping back three, a Norwegian Officer observing us shook his head. He could see we were not equipped to get up the hill in these British Army boots; we needed boots with studded soles to get up these hills. He ordered some Norwegian soldiers to take the bombs off us and even carrying the bombs they left us standing, they were used to climbing snowy slopes.
When we returned the Mortar was rigged ready for firing and we laid the bombs in position, forty-two in all. The Range Finder confirmed we could not reach the area that was covered by the Norwegians and so the Mortar was set at maximum.
The Range Finder, the one who looks for the enemy through binoculars, then took up his position. We were well situated; we were only twenty yards from the side of the hill and had a good view of the area to be covered, with the Mortar out of sight.
The hillside and the whole area where we stood were covered in pine trees, so we had a perfect view without being seen. We English were not alone on the hill. A good many Norwegian soldiers were moving away from the action behind us. A few miles away was the noise of battle, and German spotter planes were above us. As the action came closer we noticed more and more people, soldiers and civilians at the back of us all going one way.
The Range Finder shouted that there was movement on the ground we were covering, and the corporal told me to get the bombs ready. When he came back after consulting the Range Finder we prepared to fire. We then fired because the NCO decided that the enemy had reached the position that we could cover and we started putting the ten-pound bombs down the barrel of the Mortar.
One man took the bombs out of the cases; passing them on to the next man nose first; he passed them on to the firer and he put them fin first down the Mortar barrel. Whilst this happened another man moved the barrel of the Mortar slowly to cover the area in front. I should say the full traverse of the Mortar took about twenty bombs. The Range Finder had indicated that we were on target so we reduced the length one hundred yards to finish off the bombs.
Suddenly all hell broke loose! A spotter plane must have noted the position because Mortar bombs and shells were falling all around us. The trees that were so protective were now falling. We immobilised the Mortar and joined the retreat with the civilians and soldiers. The bullets were thudding into the tree trunks as we made our way along the top of the hills.
The Norwegians told us that the Germans were on the low road where our truck was and that meant that we had lost our truck and that we were afoot. We then had a concentrated attack of shells and bombs and I was parted from my mates; I never saw them again.
I joined up with the flow of Norwegian families and soldiers who were streaming away from the action and at intervals I noticed Norwegian troops dug in; presumably to slow the enemy down. We joined in the skirmish with the Norwegian soldiers many of whom looked more like schoolboys. Away from the action we came to a large building where food was being served and I was glad to hear English speaking voices. I sat with a soldier from the Green Howard's and had food and water.
English Officers there told us that after we had rested we must make our way back to England if we could. That meant getting to a foreign country or trying for the coast to be picked up by the navy.
I rested for an hour or so and then took off with the two Green Howard soldiers; we had lingered too long because we were caught up by the Germans who were advancing swiftly.
Mortar bombs and shellfire were exploding on each side of the road; it was obvious the Germans didn't want any craters in the road to slow down their advancement. Everywhere was alive with bouncing bullets, which were so concentrated I took cover behind a big abandoned lorry, which was already smouldering. As my stomach came in contact with the wagon bumper a burst of machine gun fire ricocheted underneath the lorry and slammed into it from the other side. I crouched down until the firing subsided and then I ran like bloody hell.
Out of range once again we kept moving on, and from time to time we stopped along the way getting information from Officers both Norwegian and English. We travelled so for a few days and nights.
I well remember how embarrassed I felt on one of these stops. We were sitting at a long table and being served hot gruel by young Norwegian girls and I sensed their revulsion as they served the 2 Green Howard soldiers and myself. We must have smelt like skunks.
We had been in Norway for over 2 weeks, lying in the snow and mud taking cover from the German fire. We were much slower than the Norwegians in this terrain and we were wet through with sweat just keeping up with them. We never seemed to get more than an hours sleep before we were on the move again.
On one occasion my two companions and I were making our way across a field with snow up to our crutch when a German plane shot at us. We must have stood out like a beacon in all that snow. He missed us thankfully, though we did get a sweat on trying to run in over 2 foot of snow. Eventually we came to the bank of a very swift flowing river on which, to our surprise, were gathered hundreds of soldiers and officers. The officers were trying to work out a way to cross the river. They had maps and the idea was that if we crossed to the other side we would by pass the enemy and have a chance to reach the coast. They had already established that the Germans were in charge of a bridge two or three miles upstream. Volunteers had tried to cross the river at different parts.
The river looked formidable and had huge boulders in it. Where the boulders were close together ice had formed between them. The ice was two or three feet thick in places and the water was roaring underneath. I said to my mate the Green Howard "I think I could get across there!". The part that I chose to cross was approximately thirty to forty feet across: the depth I did not know; I could see from where I stood that I could get across three quarters of the way without getting a dowsing. An officer encouraged me to attempt it and I jumped in a seesaw fashion until I got within the last ten to fifteen feet and, standing on a boulder, I knew I couldn't make it.
It was a very strong current there and I was told to return. As I came back I realised that I was in difficulties. At one point that was about six foot wide I jumped onto a smaller boulder and slipped into the water which was so fast I was fifteen to twenty foot down stream before I could stand up, with the water up to my chest.
The Green Howard soldier had taken my rifle. I thought that he was of the opinion that I could get out myself. I was grasping onto a boulder, afraid to let go, or the river would have taken me further down. The soldier came towards me over the rocks and ice and offered me the end of my rifle, which I grasped and he pulled me out. I used the rifle as a rod in my effort to get out of the water, but my hands were so cold that the rifle fell from my grasp into the river. It was now dusk and we all huddled together on the side of the river. The men put ground sheets down and I was in the middle of them and that is how I spent the night.
When dawn came and I awoke, I wondered what was the matter with me, my face was really distorted. I had a cold sore, which covered the whole of my face and my lips and nose. My clothes were still wet through, though strangely enough I wasn't cold.
We were there two more days, then, due to the activity coming towards us, we moved on in parties of twenty men. We made our way down river in the hope of reaching the sea.
Some days later, keeping close to the river, we came to an area where many English and Norwegian soldiers were grouped together, I should say five hundred English and even more Norwegians. By this time the blisters on my face had burst. I had a beard, which had to remain because I could not shave, though by now my clothes had dried out.
We were with that party at least a week. The Norwegians brought food for us daily. The fish balls I'll never forget. They were in a can floating in water. They were revolting, but we had to eat and we got them down.
Then suddenly we were Prisoners Of War. I don't know how it happened. One minute we were eating fish balls and then there were Germans among us and not a shot had been fired.