- Contributed byÌý
- littleanne
- People in story:Ìý
- Anne Bishton
- Location of story:Ìý
- Edinburgh
- Article ID:Ìý
- A2455300
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 23 March 2004
My late father had been a regular soldier in the Royal Scots and so was recalled at the start of hostilities in 1939. At the time of Dunkirk he was not lucky enough to be evacuated but was captured by the Germans. My mother received the dreaded telegram "missing presumed killed" but was buoyed up by constant rumours of men turning up safe long after this sort of news. This was indeed the case with my father and he spent the next five years as a prisoner of war in Upper Silesia in German occupied Poland. At the time of Dunkirk I was five years old and my brother was nine. Two years later our mother died. A maiden aunt came to live in our rented house and the Army, after liaising with the Red Cross, gave her an allowance book with a weekly payment similar to that previously held by my mother. This continued until my father's release. In 1943 my father tried to escape from Stalag XXB but it was winter time and he was quickly recaptured. We were informed by the Red Cross that his punishment was removal of his boots and blanket but that we could arrange for replacements to be sent to him . This was not an easy task but my family managed this and he told us that the boots had lasted till he completed his part in the "Long March" We received food parcels at intervals throughout the war from families in Australia and New Zealand.
My husband and I went to Poland in 1995 and visited the area where the camps had been.
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