We were then transferred to Oslo and I finished up in a police cell. The food here looked like dog biscuits with caraway seeds. l couldn't eat them at first but I did eat them, as it was them or nothing.
After a few days in Oslo we were transferred to a ship, about one hundred of us in the fore-hold and more in the rest of the ship. The fore-hold was 40ft by 40ft and 30ft or so deep. On each side of the hold were fastened huge metal troughs 12ft deep 2ft wide and these were our toilets. On the opposite side were troughs of smaller size for us to wash ourselves and on the bottom of the boat were duckboards.
At first sight it looked and was a reasonable place for our journey, though I was to change my mind later on.
The ship moved only at night, moving short distances and picking up other P.O.Ws on the way. The journey took many days before we reached Kristensand, which is situated on the mouth of the Skaggerak. By this time the stink from the hold from the excrements of the men from diarrhoea and seasickness was so bad that we were allowed on deck 20 men at a time for a breath of fresh air. On these occasions we were covered with machine guns.
Suddenly one night the screws on the engine were not running so gently as they had been doing until then, they started throbbing and picked up speed considerably across the Skaggerak to the coast of Denmark. During this run the excrements in the troughs were slopping among us to our distress and now we weren't allowed upon deck. The hatches had been closed and we just had to suffer the putrid smell below deck.
Later on I will tell you the reason for this sudden dash by the ship; according to an English sailor I met in Stalag XXA.
In the shelter of the Danish coast we moved only at night again and we were allowed on deck as before. Twenty men at a time under guard and once again we travelled slowly.
Food was scarce and word went round that our watches and rings would be confiscated when we arrived at Germany and foolishly I parted with my cherished gold ring; I got two loaves of bread for it.
Occasionally water was lowered down into the hold for us to wash but as we neared Germany this pleasure, if that is what it could be called, came to an end.
I can't remember the number of days and nights we endured in this boat before we disembarked at Hamburg, though I am positive that if we had been on this boat much longer there would have been an epidemic and men would have died.
When we reached Hamburg the hatches to the hold were thrown open and we were given plenty of water to wash and clean ourselves. The reason for this was obvious as we alighted from the ship. We were paraded in front of the people of Hamburg who seemed to have been prepared for our coming. We were all photographed and the people back home were informed that we were prisoners of war. We were given a number; mine was P.O.W.no.5101.
We were soon on our way again, this time in cattle trucks 40 men to each truck. Straw was inside the trucks for us to sleep on and we learned that our destination was Danzig, which was quite a few days away. We travelled as usual by night and were shunted onto sidings regularly during the day. Our diet was dry bread and the occasional army soup and water to drink.
When we landed at Danzig many of us had dysentery and diarrhoea and sickness. We were a long while before we got over our trip from Norway to Danzig.
At Danzig our billets were a Polish fortress, which was more like a prison than a billet, and, each took about forty men. The windows were heavily barred, the doors were made of solid wood and bunk beds were situated all round the walls. We were issued with palliasses, which we filled with straw and put on the bunk beds. There was a wooden dining table down the centre of the room and an N.C.O. was in charge of each room. We had roll call each morning on the parade ground.
The cookhouse was operated by British army cooks and we had kartoffel (potato) soup daily perhaps with a small amount of meat, but too small to see.
There was about 400 men, N.C.O's and Officers, and gradually more men came. It took a few weeks for us to get fully organised. When all the billets were full there must have been about 1200 men here.
We had a cookhouse, a small hospital and a place for Officers.
Every day a man would be chosen to help in the cookhouse, peeling the spuds and cleaning pans. This wasn't a chore at this stage because those on spud bashing received tit bits such as chips, or sugar in their tea. Food was so short, there were 5 men to one loaf and a packet of knackerbraut each. Helping with the spuds was better than walking aimlessly around the Fort.
This went on until the instructions were given out that each soldier below the rank of sergeant was detailed to working parties and even sergeants were glad later on to take charge of the working parties to relieve the monotony, for boredom had caused a lot of friction and fights too.
My first working party was in a small wood on the outskirts of Danzig. There must have been at least 4 parties of ten men, 40 men with 4 guards. We were to retrieve the barbed wire from around the wood, where the Polish soldiers had made a stand against the Germans. My job was taking out the staples that held the wire to the post; the wire was then pulled free and wound onto huge spools. This we did for a day or two until we came to a part in the wood that was very swampy and was full of mosquitoes. These creatures attacked us ferociously, they were so bad that the guards left us to it, they refused to go near the swamp. It was very hot but we had to wear clothing to cover every part of our bodies; nevertheless many of us were bit and had huge lumps from the bites, many of which turned septic.
This worked to our advantage, as there were many Poles in the woods collecting mushrooms and wood for the fires: we would get friendly with them and they would give us food and sometimes we could do a trade with them. This would only be on a small scale as we were always searched before we returned to camp. I was glad however when this job finished, it was so uncomfortable wearing clothes in such hot weather.
After this we were transported daily to a seaside place called Zoppot. Here we came under the working orders from an ex Nazi soldier who walked with a slight limp. His job was to restore buildings that had been devastated during the war with Poland.
We filled cellars with boulders, sand and cement and then flooded it with water from the hosepipe. This was to reinforce the buildings, which were to be brought into use when we had finished our work here. There were many German soldiers and sailors about and when these buildings were finished they probably would be used to accommodate them.
We were extremely hungry at this place and would go about looking in the waste bins for bread that the soldiers and sailors had thrown away. There were civilians here as well, both Polish and German, who were working on these buildings too.
In these buildings were the uniforms, cavalry boots and mattress' belonging to the Polish soldiers and we helped ourselves to a good deal of this stuff, using it for trading for food when possible. If we were caught with this loot we most certainly would get roughed up and could expect a spell in solitary.
We were here for some time and would seize the chance to take some of this army equipment, when we had a guard over us who we knew wasn't so particular about searching us. The odd guard would just take it off us, put his fingers to his head and say ''Dumfkoff" (thick head). These were the ones that we would take a chance with. We took the covers off the mattresses making the covers easier to conceal on our person and these would be eagerly received by our mates back at camp. We put our palliasses in the mattress covers, which made the beds look nice and clean.
The boots and tunics etc. that we took from the Docks were taken by other parties who were working inland and traded for bread, sausage or whatever they could get for them, mostly food.
We came to know quite a few Poles through this bartering.
It was now late into the summer and we had our first lot of Potatoes delivered from the Polish farms. They were not dried off properly and had been stored in a damp condition in one of the barrack rooms. The rooms had only one entrance and we were to regret this later on.
We worked on many projects in the harbour and the surrounding areas, stacking bricks on building sites and on some occasions getting close to where the ships were being unloaded and loaded ready for sailing.
We did hear of one soldier getting back home. This, we were told, he did by dirtying his face and uniform with coal and joining in with the loading of coal onto one of the ships. This could have been true because by now the Germans were more lenient towards us because of the work we were doing.
We were having trouble back at camp with lice, which was very disturbing and caused a very unhappy atmosphere. This we suffered for many weeks. This first onslaught of these creatures caused us to develop many sores from scratching, and some men finished up in hospital from septic sores.
At this time of our captivity we had no soap issued and we washed our clothes by boiling them in a 5-gallon oil drum, which we had cleaned out. With our first issue of soap everybody wanted to wash themselves at the same time and everyone wanted a stand up bath. Nevertheless we had to be patient and organised, and room-by-room we cleaned up the best we could considering the circumstances. This was my first wash with soap since I had become a POW 6 months ago. Even so, we couldn't get rid of the lice. The trouble was getting worse and the Germans had to organise a proper delousing for us.
First of all we burnt our palliasses and then we were taken in lorries to a German army depot and there all our clothes were stored. We washed thoroughly with soft soap after shaving off our hair and returned to camp nice and clean, receiving new palliasses on arrival. These we filled with fresh straw and felt great. I was to repeat this operation often during my life as a POW.
We were still working around the Danzig area and the potatoes that had been stored in the barrack room were beginning to rot. So once again men from each room were detailed to help in the cookhouse. The potatoes by now were one stinking horrible mess and it took hours to sort out enough potatoes for the daily meal. Even when the potatoes were cooked the fust could be tasted and those of us who went out with the working party could smell them a mile away if the wind was in that direction.
It took many weeks of hard work and horrible meals before we cleared the room where they were stacked and besides the rotten spuds there was green mould on the loaves of bread; the mould we cut off. Many of us had diarrhoea and stomach pains and this must have been the start of my stomach ulcer, which I have been plagued with until this day.
We went to work at a place called Gdynia, which was hit very hard during the German onslaught in 1939, here we worked on the roads and also inside the German barracks where soldiers were training. We did quite well at this place, these were occupational troops and not front liners, they were older men and were easier to get on with.
After a number of weeks at this place our next working party was Gdansk. This place wasn't so far away from the Fortress as the others had been and we were more in touch with the German Navy. We did in fact see warships around this area and we were more heavily guarded. Here we were helping to build chalets by carrying wood for the German Navy Personnel to erect on site.
We were moved on after a few weeks to the main Stalag XXA. The winter had set in and it was very cold. Our journey to the camp was in cattle trucks and although only a short journey was very uncomfortable. I was amazed at the size of the main camp, the number of soldiers, N.C.Os and Officers there must have been 3,000 men with many Germans on guard.
On my first visit to this camp I was of the impression that we were all being congregated to form different working parties. We were so crowded and pressed for washing space that when detailed for working parties we accepted straight away.
I volunteered to go out with one party to a place called Brounlow, or something like that, and when detailed to this work I found that there was about 400 men already on this working party. We were again loaded into cattle trucks, different ranks and different regiments all together, and we were on our way to yet another billet, one that had been prepared for us in advance. Each hut would house approximately 40 men and each hut had 3 pot bellied wood burning stoves.
I had no regular mate and I found that I was with 3 more English men and the rest were 30 Scotsmen all from one regiment. I am not going to say that I enjoyed their company on this our first acquaintance.
I was told daily there would always be an England whilst it was joined to Scotland. I often wished that I could cut the bugger free and let it drift into the sea up there. We didn't mix very well with these men and we had reason to confide in an English sergeant who took up our complaint and so the situation became more tolerant. We worked with English soldiers during the day and it was after work that we were pressed into arguments, which we knew we couldn't win.
Our first chore in this place was getting wood for the stoves and the cookhouse, this wasn't a big problem as we were actually at the side of a wood and we had cross cut saws and axes.
The Germans told us how to saw the trees down, the branches, which were lopped off, were for burning on the hut stoves and the trunks were taken away in lorries. We found that after a while there were many Poles both men and women working in the wood.
We were issued with gloves, which we needed because of the utter cold. In fact it was so cold that we were warned about grabbing the saw or any metal with bare hands as finger ends could be left on it and we did have casualties this way.
To have a pee was something you prepared for and gave great thought to in this bitter cold. There were no zips and hands had to be warmed before you started or your hands would be too cold to fasten the buttons when finished. We were told to rub our ears with snow in the early days of capture; later we used what wool we could get to cover out ears.
As we chopped down the trees and went further into the woods. The Poles, both men and women, could also be seen working there. We then began to use their toilets, which were under cover they were about 4 foot deep and a twenty foot long trench, with wooden seats with round holes cut to make a toilet seat.
Imagine my amazement when a young Polish girl nipped in and sat on the toilet alongside and began to jabber away, and jabber away to me. I didn't know if she was telling me off or being sociable. I didn't stop to find out. I jumped up quickly, pulled up my trousers and fled. When I saw the guard and told them about it he laughed and said "ganse gall". I think he meant it's all the same. The lads got quite a laugh out of this. Me! I thought I was going to be shot for invading the women's toilets. We were here long enough to find out that both men and women used the same toilets.
We made friends with many of these Poles in the next few weeks that we were there, these were the weeks running up to Christmas. They told us to look at a certain building in the distance where they had a Christmas tree and it was decorated with "number 10 in lights". These Poles were a working party also, but they weren't so restricted as us for they could come and go as they pleased, whilst we as POW were behind barbed wire and there were guards on patrol.
They must have had access to food for we had many a parcel off them. They would indicate from a distance, pointing to the ground and we would saunter to the spot and there would be a parcel with bread and sausages, sometimes fat which would be lying on the ground either wrapped up or just lying there. However, it was very thankfully received, especially the bread, for at the camp we were still on the German army ration of bread with its green mould, and five of us to a loaf and one kartoffol (potato) soup each day.
This was my worst Christmas ever. There were so many men from the evacuation of Dunkirk and none of them had any good news, plus the fact that by now I had developed a very grotty stomach and we had started with lice again.
One of the English lads with us seemed to be suffering more from POW life mentally than any one of us and it showed. He was a loner and very withdrawn. This, and the fact that he would always have tealeaves boiling on the stove, drew everybody's attention to him. How he got these used tealeaves nobody knew, we did know that he kept them in his bed, either under his pillow or under the mattress. He was nicknamed "tealeaf" and he was blamed for everything that went wrong in the room even to the lice. He was once taken out by the Scottish lads and held under the icy water that run from the pipes on a hill close by. This stopped him from hoarding tealeaves in his bed, but it didn't alter him in any other way, he was mentally ill.
Over the Christmas period all the huts were left open and we were allowed to mix with whoever we wanted. This was where the food from the Poles came in handy for anyone who had been lucky enough to get any. We all got together and had a singsong, but it did not ease the unhappiness within us.
One good thing here was that we had ample wood to feed the pot bellied stove and it would give out a terrific heat so we were very warm at this billet. The most outstanding thing that I recall was the chimneybreast in the washhouse where we stripped off our clothes, picked the lice off them and crushed the lice on the chimneybreast, which was coloured red from the blood from the lice. I was glad to leave this place, there were no fond memories here.
When we returned to Stalag XXA towards the end of January we were immediately deloused. It was during this procedure that I lost my boots and I was issued with an inferior pair of rubber shoes, which, unlike my boots, were very thin and cold, and I had to manage with them for the rest of the winter.
Many men had gone from the Stalag on our return. We were organised, paraded and counted each morning and then marched out of the camp to some barracks where German soldiers were being trained. We were cleaning at different buildings and we managed to get the occasional meal from the German field kitchen, which was soup, always soup. This soup had more taste in it though than any of the soup back at Stalag.
We did some work here for a German civilian. He was one of the very few Germans that appeared sociable to us, even when everything at this stage of the war was going their way.
We cleaned the area and bricks began to arrive. These we stacked ready for the builders. When we returned to the Stalag each night we shared a loaf of bread between 5 of us as usual. The only thing left to do at night was to go across to the main building where the NCOs who didn't want to work were billeted. We would watch them play cards and Ludo, this being the warmest place in the Stalag and this was our daily routine.
From time to time different parties of men were arriving, some of whom were sick and had to go to the sick bay. From one of these working party arrivals I was overjoyed to acquire a pair of Polish cavalry boots. I suffered with very cold feet because of having to wear the rubber shoes. I was so pleased to get hold of them although they cost me a full week's supply of Polish cigarettes, this being a week's allowance that I had to queue for at the shop where we spent our POW money.
The word went round that more working parties were going out and I immediately applied and found to my amazement that it was for farm working. Twenty men were selected and one sergeant included. This time we rode in the guard's van on the train and this was a pleasant surprise.
We had a German feldwebel (sergeant) and a private soldier as guard. After a short journey we arrived at a village where there were a number of small farms, the largest of these belonged to the Bergermaster of the village and this is where we were billeted.
Later on the guard brought in the Bergermaster. I don't know if this was by arrangement, but on all these working parties either an English man could speak German or a German could speak English. We always understood what we had to do. They told us that at eight o'clock the next morning someone would come and arrange for us to go to our respective jobs on the farm, and the Bergermaster had already picked out the three strongest looking.
A very large German lady arrived very early the next morning and to our amazement picked the smallest one among us. He was a very sick young man who was with us at Danzig and had been very ill with dysentery. We were to see the woman come to fetch him every day rain or sunshine.
Nobody else bothered to come for any other workers and so all detailing was left to the Bergermaster. We were split into two parties and marched off into opposite directions. The feldwebel took one lot and the private soldier took the other half. As we approached each farm the number of workers they had asked for were allotted to them. I finished up about half a mile from the farm with a mate named Bernard. He was a "Townie," meaning that he came from the same town as me, Nottingham. He was actually in civi life, a farm labourer. When we arrived at the farm where we were to work there were two women, one, Frau Leitka who was the owner of this small farm and a Polish woman who was working for her. The Polish lady was getting on in years. Most of the early farm work had been done by this time. We went into the farmhouse to have breakfast, which was a slice of bread and a bowl of thin soup. It was enough, as the slices were thick and the bread was good.
The one awful thing that stands out in my memory was the amount of flies around the stove and in the kitchen. The stove was in the corner of the room and a large canopy was over the top to take the smoke up the chimney instead of going into the room. There were millions of flies around this canopy both on it and under it and later on we found out how careful we had to be from what we ate.
During the morning a Polish fellow of middle age came to the farm. We understood that he went to two or three of the farms as an advisor. He got on very well with Bernard, who, being a farm worker understood the work.
It was by now the beginning of June and the potatoes were about eight inches high. Our first job was hoeing and covering the potatoes with soil. We had been told to come back at twelve for 'mitt tag' (lunch) and the meal was the usual potato soup with a thick slice of bread. In the meantime the older woman had been and checked what work had been done. She seemed satisfied and we were back again in the afternoon doing the same work hoeing the spuds and at four o clock, another two slices of bread with plums (the plums having been boiled) and a mug of ersatz coffee (burned cereal used throughout Germany as a substitute for coffee and tasting nothing like coffee) was brought to us on the field.
The guard had visited us by now to make sure that we had not run away and he had to borrow a bicycle to visit us later. We finished work here about 6 o clock in the evening, the guard would fetch one of our mates who was working further on to join us; picking up other mates as we went along and so back to the billet for the night.
Later on we were left to return to the billet on our own. There was a lot of talk about this first days work, but it seemed that everybody was satisfied with their lot.
We were still paraded the next morning, though we were away quickly and were soon back at work on the farm. My mate was called Bernhard by the women and I was called Brower. They didn't seem to be able to say Brown. My mates at camp called me Ginge because of my ginger hair.
We soon finished work on the potato crop and Bernard who had worked with horses on a farm in England was soon clearing land and getting ready for other crops: whilst I was being taught to look after 20 sows and a boar: the food for these were boiled in old copper pansions (the fires were wood burning). Another of my jobs was with the cows both feeding and mucking out and giving them fresh straw. I did try my hand at milking the cows, I didn't know if my hands were too cold, but no milk ever came out, so the old Polish woman milked the cows and we soon got into an harmonious way of working.
As soon as breakfast was over in the morning, Bernard would go straight up the fields, mostly with a horse and I would feed the cows and the pigs; mucking them out and putting down straw, fresh bedding for them.
By the time I had barrowed the pig muck and stacked it onto the dung heap it was well into the morning. I was supplied with a saw a pick axe and a spade. The previous winter had split many of the fruit trees and these had to be taken out by the roots, which was more time consuming.
The Pole who was supervising came to me and explained how it was done, I pick axed the soil in between the roots and with a trenching spade (a narrow spade) I exposed as much of the root as possible. I then sawed the root a distance from the tree and when the tree was ready for pulling down, Bernard would bring the horse; we would fasten the rope to the tree and the horse would pull the tree down.
This we could do on the smaller trees but not the larger ones, though I did have a go at trying to dislodge them: the horse wasn't strong enough to pull them down.
The orchard was situated on the side of the road and people passing would shout "Morgan Tommie" and would wave as they passed.
As I pulled the trees down they were towed close to the farmhouse, where I sawed and chopped them up for firewood; this was an in between job for me.
After the midday meal I would accompany Bernard up the fields (the year before the dykes hadn't been cleared out ) and this was our job to clear them out to keep the water flowing. The dykes were full of leaves, twigs and silt; we used long handled shovels and rakes for this job. I would work until 5 o'clock and then I would go back to the farm to feed the pigs and the cows.
When we were very busy, the old Polish woman would see to the animals for their evening feed and I would stay with Bernard.
Back at the billets we were concerned about the state of the war especially after the sinking of the Hood. Nothing seemed to be going right.
The guards by now had settled down; they had each got a Polish girl friend and they realised they were on a good thing. When they visited us now it was on bicycles and they often went to town after they had locked us up for the night.
The Polish woman who worked at the farm had to finish work because of illness; one job she did was to take the milk to the dairy daily in a pony and trap, picking up other milk churns from all the small farms on the way and after consulting the guard I took the job over.
There was no parade now, so we started one hour earlier; we just showed ourselves to the guard and took off for the farm.
A young Polish lad was employed in place of the Polish woman; his name was Johan: Frau Leitka milked the cows for a few days until he arrived. I fed the pigs and the cows, rigged up the pony and trap and set out for the dairy.
On my first journey there, I was trotting along nicely with the pony and trap when I came face to face with a German soldier on a bicycle; he told me I was on the wrong side of the road, which I immediately rectified.
When I arrived at the dairy I was greeted with a good swig of fresh milk and a lot of jabber that I didn't understand. When they realised that I was to deliver daily, I received gifts of cake and Polish cigarettes from the workers. The cake I took back and shared with Bernard on the 4 o'clock break in the field.
When Johan arrived he milked the cows and then joined Bernard in the field.
Johan, although only 16 years old had worked on a farm all his life, so I was the general "dogs body". I wasn't complaining, I had a better deal here. I was able to do some trading at this place especially when the personal parcel, sent to me by my wife arrived, from England.
Chocolates and cigarettes were good bartering items, I didn't forget the people who had given me cigarettes and cakes etc.. They had never tasted anything like Cadbury's chocolate.
Word went round at the billet that I was in contact with the Poles at the dairy. So when the others received their parcels from home I had something to barter with for their chocolates, cigarettes soap and socks.
The Poles working on the surrounding farms alongside of us were very reluctant to have anything that was British in their possession. They seemed to be afraid of what might happen if they were caught with anything English. They would take a smoke and eat chocolate out in the field and that is all they would do: they were afraid because most of them lived on the German occupied farms. The Poles that worked at the dairy went home daily.
Sometimes Frau Leitka would take the pony and trap and take the milk and I would go up the fields to help, which was a never-ending job of work. We were still catching up with the dykeing as well: so we were very busy indeed
A short time after the arrival of Johan we had rissoles for the midday meal and to mine and Bernard's surprise Johan wouldn't touch his: he indicated for us to look at them; there were dead maggots inside them.
Bernard and I had started to eat ours, but when we saw inside we left the meal and went out of the kitchen.
Johan was very wary of the Frau. The day he started to work on the farm she gave him an old couch to sleep on in the stable and during the night he was attacked by some beetles, which made a dreadful mess of his stomach. He flung the bed outside and set fire to it. She made no apology for this to the boy although we should have been ready for anything, because of the state of the kitchen and the hordes of flies. She was not of the best German standard where cleanliness was concerned. However, it was better here than anywhere else that we had stayed during the 15 months so far as POWs.
One day the sergeant was recalled to the Stalag and returned with 6 Red Cross parcels and 6 tins of 50 cigarettes. It was quite a problem sharing these out among 20 men. There was one tin of bacon in each parcel, condensed milk, small pots of jam, biscuits, butter and tea etc,
We all decided the tea would be used in the evening at the billet when we arrived there at the end of the day. For a while about 9 o clock in the evening we had bacon butties and real jam with the farm bread we were given and the lovely stink of the English cigarette smoke.
It came as a great surprise to me one day to find out how much weight that I had lost. Bernard and I were in the process of putting corn into the bags each bag weighing a sentna (1 cwt). I stood on the scales and said to Bernard "We haven't got the weights on properly!" Because I was standing on the scales and they didn't move. "How much do you think you weigh then" asked Bernard. I was flabbergasted! As a shot firer at the pit, when I joined the Territorials, I was over 12 stone, but after 15 months as a POW. I was under 8 stone. I put this down to the fact that I kept being sick to get rid of the pain in my stomach and the privation of being a POW. Knowing that I had lost so much weight, it affected me for a time and that didn't help in any way.
I had still got the little job of taking the pony and trap to the dairy most days. It was only when I was needed up the fields, when they were behind with the fieldwork that Frau Leitka would do this job instead of me. I would drink milk when I arrived at the dairy and I would take some back to the billet on these occasions when my stomach was off. We were now well into the growing season and the winter fodder for the horses hay had run out: we had plenty of corn chaff, which we had to cut daily. This was time consuming, for this was cut by a machine that needed two men, one to turn the handle and one to feed the straw into the blades.
The cows were grass feeding in the orchard and only came in for milking. To save time we started cutting the green feed, which was long grass, clover and lupins, mixed. This was my first introduction to a scythe: I was not very good with a scythe and I was lucky to finish up with both of my legs intact. Johan finished off my first effort and taught me how to use it.
This fodder was put on a small cart and I would take it down to the stables for the horses to eat during the night. We were now ready for the harvesting and the first cut was the clover and grass for the animal's winter fodder. It was cut and laying on the ground when I returned to the field after two days when I went to market with pigs.
Going to market with the pigs, the driver and I loaded two pigs onto the lorry to add to the pigs that was already in there. We would get a stick, push it under the pig to wedge behind its two front legs, we grabbed the tail and threw it into the truck. The abattoir was very busy. A man with a pair of electric tongues would approach the pig and the electrode, which was like a pad was placed each side of the pig's head and when the man pressed the lever the pig was dead. It was lifted by block and tackle, bled and gutted and then dropped into a vat of boiling water. It was then lowered so that we could scrape the hairs off its body. This was done with a flat piece of metal, which had a very sharp edge. We left the pigs there and returned to the farm; it was the days work finished with. The man called for me the next day, I must have been on hire. We repeated the work of the previous day, then we returned to the farm and I collected my bread ration and returned to the billet.
Before we started work the next day Bernard and I were told to load a huge boar into a small-wheeled pig box to be transferred to some other farm. This pig was very vicious with wicked looking tusks, it was wild and Bernard was very apprehensive, and well he might be. We were told firstly to force it into a carrying cage, something like you see in films for carrying wild animals, we put this cage in the gangway: it was made to fit so that the pig would have to go in when its pen was opened; I called to Bernard to check that the cage door at his end was fastened and then to stand back. I had been feeding this sodding brute for weeks and thought I knew all about it. I got it into the gangway and then the bugger tried to turn round; I gave it a right wallop on the arse with a sweeping brush: it flew along the gangway and went straight through the other end of the carrying cage as if it was made of straw. I could see Bernard wide-eyed on its back riding backwards as it went charging along until he threw himself into one of the pigpens on the side of the gangway. He was not amused. It took four of us all the morning to get the sod into the pig box, "What a performance!".
The following day I was up the field turning the hay (winter fodder) with a wooden rake to dry it out; this hay had to be bone dry before it could be stacked in the loft over the stables; so it was turned regularly.
The Frau was taking the milk now leaving me free to help Bernard and Johan. The corn was being cut. On these farms the corn wasn't bundled with string the same as in England, it was left loose on the ground: with 6 or 7 strands of corn we made our bundles by gathering a small armful and tying up with the strands of corn to form a sheaf. These we stacked in an inverted v-shape, about 12 sheaves at a time to dry out. When dried, they were either stacked in the field or taken to sheds in the farmyard. When all the corn was gathered on the farm that I was on, I was lent out to other farms to help with the threshing. At these times quite a few people are needed to man the machines: there was only one threshing machine in the village, so the corn from each farm had to be taken to the threshing machine and the grain and straw after each threshing had to be returned to each individual farm, it was a case of borrowing and lending where the labour was concerned. When enough corn was threshed to suit individual farms, we then returned to our normal work.
I had by now been a POW for over 15 months, I was under weight, I had a grotty guts, I had been locked behind barbed wire every night from the time of my capture in Norway and to put it mildly I was thoroughly beezed off. So badly was I affected, that one night in the early hours, I woke up, opened the window, jumped out, climbed over the fence and took off.
For a mile or so I felt as free as a bird, although it was raining. Eventually I stopped to take my bearings and lit a cigarette, then I looked around me. I was amazed that as I turned about in every direction everywhere was as black as the hole of Calcutta. I couldn't see a light either close by or in the distance. I was wet and cold and I knew that I had made a right stupid balls up.
Where was I going in a British khaki uniform, hundreds of miles from any neutral country. I knew that Danzig was like Fort Knox; I was gutted, I knew I had to return and the thought of Stalag and all the regimental bull that went with it, was not very welcome to me. I need not have bothered, the only person who seemed to have missed me was the soldier in the bunk above me, Ginger Ralph. He said he would have joined me, had he known my intentions. We never had the chance to plan anything together as we were parted soon after.
Potatoes were the next crop to be harvested. This was done 'by each person having what is known as a potato grabber. I never saw a potato machine in Poland. A potato grabber was like a three-headed pickaxe and it was very affective. This grabber was struck into the soil about 8 ins away from the potatoes and pulled forward bringing the potatoes with it, they were then dried and later put into clamps with about a foot of soil to cover them, 6 to 8 ins of earth was then put on the top of the straw to form a frost free layer.
We followed up after this with Mangels, these we pulled up by hand, topped and tailed and made clamps, which were twice as large as the potato clamps.
Back at the billets more Red Cross parcels had arrived, they were Canadian this time and they contained coffee, powdered milk and huge round biscuits in a tin. These were like babies rusks and I swapped some of my stuff for these; the rusks and powdered milk were helpful when my stomach was playing up. There was also a few letters and photos from home and it was at this time that I received my first picture of Kathleen.
All the crops had by now been gathered, Bernard and Johan were busy ploughing and I was dyke cleaning.
Word was getting round that we would be returning to Stalag and only a few would be staying and to my disappointment I was not one of them. This was October 1941 and out of 20 of us on this first working party half stayed to replace the men who were being called up, the rest of us moved on to Stalag XXA.
Many changes had taken place at Stalag XXA during the time we had been on the working party. On our arrival we were each given a Red Cross parcel and 50 cigarettes. We were then sent to join about 1-10 men who were building a road about 15 miles outside of Stalag. We took our Red Cross parcels with us and we also took the l00 men, whom we were about to join, their Red Cross parcels too and 50 cigarettes each. This working party must have been there for quite some time, because every thing was established, cookhouse and huts for the men's sleeping quarters. The work, was breaking bricks and levelling them out for the foundation of the road. It was a monotonous job and well scrutinised by both German and civilians. We were guarded so keenly, that we had no chance of trading with the locals.
One of the guards here was a very quick tempered and suspicious man, who always had his rifle at the alert and was partial to giving any one of us the butt end in the back for no reason whatever. I was glad when I got over that stretch of road. He was a lanky gangling youth with a ginger moustache. He would twitch his moustache (probably from nerves) and I was told two of our lads had been shot by him. They may have been laughing at him; and I could understand this for he really did look ridiculous. He stood about 6 ft 4 ins and probably weighed about 9 stone, looking like a stick with a helmet stuck on the top, he was truly a figure of derision. I managed to keep clear of this man without any incident and as the work progressed I moved further on to another section and out of his area.
As I moved on I came into contact with a German who had lived in USA for a long time, He was in charge of a lorry that was delivering old bricks, that were to be the foundation of the road we were making and he spoke perfect English.
I had two packets of pure coffee beans, which I had saved from my Canadian Red Cross parcel, this pure coffee was very scarce in Germany. I could get 2 Deutschmarks for just one packet of coffee. I settled for one marc and three white loaves for each packet of coffee beans.
We had plenty of time to discuss the deal with the German lorry driver, as we had to take turns each morning with the starting handle on his lorry, which had a diesel engine. On very cold mornings, it would often take over half an hour to get it started. There was often an outburst of foul language from the person whose turn it was to try to start the engine and his efforts had failed. If the starting handle had not disengaged this often caused a kick back and could give a right good rap to the handle operator.
To get the three loaves that we had acquired in our barter, back to the Stalag, we needed the co-operation of the other members of the working party.
The three loaves had to be cut up long ways and hid to get by the German guards. Each man kept half of what he took through past the guard. Helping each other to do a deal was a recognised thing with most of us. Some would not take the risk.
It was getting near to Christmas, my second Christmas as a POW and to our amazement we heard of the bombing of Pearl Harbour, early in December 1941. Rumour was that most of the American Navy had been attacked and sunk by the Japanese aeroplanes operating from aircraft carriers. This unexpected vicious attack was very bad news for us. Later we were to hear both from the Polish and the English Grape Vine (radio) that the damage was not as extensive as said originally. We didn't know the full facts until just before Christmas and this knowledge (plus the fact that America was now in the War) was the best Christmas present that we could wish for. After work each day now we were eager for news.
Whilst probing around for news I chummed up with an old soldier, who was of Jewish origin. He seemed to have lots of information of how the War was progressing. He could and did at times produce a small amount of fat, sometimes butter for cooking. I was glad of this, because I struck up a companionship with him and I did the cooking. How he obtained these fats and little luxuries, I don't know. Whilst in conversation with a friend of this man, he told me, that as long as he had known him, he had always been able to get little tit bits.
My new companion, who we called Josh, would disappear each day until mealtime. Immediately after breakfast he would go, (he must have had his daily soup somewhere else) and he would always return about 4 o clock for the evening meal, bringing something back with him. On the odd occasion he would bring back spuds and with these cooked and placed on fried bread it would make a filling meal. Stalag beefsteak we called this.
We would sit down for the evening meal and he would relate the news that he had gathered during the day. He would tell us news that was always ahead of the camp news. His friend hinted that he thought that Josh was a freemason and that he might know someone else in authority, managing the camp.
This could be true, because by now there were many senior officers in captivity. Our friendship came to an abrupt end when I had to go into hospital with a burnt hand turned septic.
I was cooking at the stove and I got hold of a tin which burned the heel of my thumb, which was so bad, that the skin came off onto the tin and within two days I had red lines going up my arm and a lump as big as a tennis ball under my armpit. I was hospitalised straight away with septicaemia and this was how I spent my second Christmas as a POW.
At the beginning of my stay in hospital, I couldn't understand why the orderly more or less dictated to me how I should only use my own towels and bowl when I washed. At first I thought that he was telling me this because of my septic hand. Looking around the ward, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with any of the patients and I didn't worry about this at the time, I just lay back contentedly and thought how nice it was and how comfortable and warm I was: I considered myself very lucky.
I was also allowed to see the Stalag Pantomime. This was of course an all male show. Written produced and staged by the POWs of Fort XIII Concert Party in The Little Theatre "First Day of Pantomania" A fantasy in three acts, was on December 26th. The hospital was allowed seats for the show; Germans were there, Officers and guards, we all enjoyed it and clapped enthusiastically.
This was my first and only chance to see these annual events held at the Main Stalag.
I have an album with many photographs of open air boxing exhibitions and programmes of plays that were put on. This album was given to me by a very dear friend Mr Alf Bates, it was a parting gift; we worked together on a farm in Poland.
I soon realised that this ward was something different. I was amazed to find there were VD cases and septic scabies and these sores had to be cleaned each day. I am glad to say that my septic hand responded to treatment and I was soon out of hospital. I was comfortable there to begin with, but I was very relieved to be discharged without my becoming infected.
It was now into January and I was looking forward to working on the farm again. Word came round that a working party was wanted for two or three months duration and I applied for this work and on this party I teamed up with Swanee and Punch.
This work party was to fill in huge holes to level the ground for a project the Germans had in mind. The journey to this site was in cattle trucks and it took over three hours.
There were two non-working sergeants on this party. The billets here were really good, with single beds and proper mattresses. They had been occupied by the people who had worked here previously.
We had a couple of days to get the cookhouse organised. We were told the job was twenty-four hours a day and 8 hour shifts, with twelve men on each shift.
Punch, Swanee and I started our first shift on nights. It was bitter cold and we started work during a raging snowstorm. The work was filling a huge hole with rubble.
This work must have been in progress for many weeks before we started. It wasn't hard work, but very very cold and uncomfortable.
As we approached the site, I could see arc lights over quite a large area; but the most outstanding thing in my mind was the shouting of the German in charge. All we could hear was Ooruk!! Ooruk!!.
Later I was to understand why the shouting was necessary. The men at work were spread out over such a large area and the man in charge had to shout very loud to be heard above the icy howling wind and his voice was very raucous.
We were taken to a cabin and told what the work was to be and we were informed that if we co-operated, meaning work steadily; we would get a voucher for extra white bread each day. This I found very acceptable, because the brown army bread issued to us aggravated my stomach and I was glad to work at a steady pace to get a voucher. It worked out three vouchers for one loaf of bread.
Swanee, Punch and I received a loaf of bread each day for three vouchers.
The place where we were to work had a small gauge railway line with fixed sleepers, which ran parallel with the hole and was kept about 2 foot from the edge; this ensured that all the rubble went into the hole when we tipped the wagon. If the rubble collected on the lip of the hole because of the rail being too far from the edge, the thick steel sleeper rails would be moved closer to the edge with wooden levers.
A small locomotive was being used, this train had 50 tip up trucks filled with rubble which we tipped into the hole.
There were 10 men on the stretch that we were filling in, with one at each end to keep the rails straight for the train as the work went forward.
From time to time a section of rail had to be inserted as the work progressed. When the full trucks arrived each of the ten men would pull a lever and tip the rubble into the hole.
They had 5 trucks each to empty and they also had to keep their individual section of line clear, so that the truck would not become derailed. When the line was clear the loco reversed and pushed the trucks back for another load. Further along the line must have been a junction, because no sooner had an empty train gone by, than another came back full of rubble.
I was placed at one end of the line to keep the track straight and free from rubble. I had a wooden lever and a large wooden jack, this jack had a screw down the centre and a handle to operate it.
As the men filled the hole with the rubble, they had to move the track over and I had to straighten the bends, which were created. It would have been a nice job of work in the summer, but midwinter, in these conditions and on the night shift it was atrocious. We were really exposed to the elements and on the few occasions that we lost our vouchers it was sheer stupidity. On one very cold wintry night, it was snowing and blowing a gale and one of the lads was feeling downhearted, he was known to put a piece of wood against the wheels of the tip up truck and then give the all clear.
When the train driver started the train, at least 10 trucks went into the hole. We were the losers! We had to get the trucks out by hand, well those that were close to the top and then we stood around until the crane came to lift the other trucks out of the hole.
By the time the trucks were back on the rails we had a forced break and we were very cold and our vouchers had been forfeited.
We could not trade here for sausages; fats or anything like we had been able to do on the previous work parties. Here we had only the loco drivers and the German overseer that we came into contact with and they were more interested in getting work finished.
I think this was to be a site for something special.
When the British soldier placed the piece of wood against the truck wheel, it was the only deliberate attempt to derail the trucks and of course everyone was punished and not just the guilty one. Though there were other times when the trucks were derailed accidentally.
The guard gave the soldier a hard time for a while after the deliberate attempt to stop the work progressing smoothly and as the weeks went by and the weather improved, the work seemed to be quite acceptable.
Back at the billet Punch and Swanee and I worked on a rota when we were on afternoon shifts and when we were on nights.
When we returned to camp, two would get into their respective beds. The other would mash and take his mates a cuppa in bed. This was good when we got back to the billet after a cold night.
The holes were filled in and the ground was made level by March. So the work here was finished.
Once again the old enemy lice prevailed among us. There had been a few cases when we arrived at this work party and so they must have been left by the previous workers.
After a delouse and a convict hair crop we were taken to Stalag XXA.