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The Army That Didn’t March On It’s Stomach
(Part Four)

An Authentic Diary Of The Forced March Undertaken By RAF POWs

MAR 20th

Start at 9am feeling very tired with pains in my legs. I guess its rheumatism or gout. Never will I grin at unfortunate old men again when they mention their aches and pains. Going is now very hard. Werle at 10am and we have a long rest of 50 minutes as the Jerries issue a further 3/8 loaf and a blob of margarine. It’s not Adolf’s birhtday yet, surely? Why the generosity? On to Kremmin and reach Beckentin at 1.30pm. Mathematician Neeves announces that we are tearing across the Third Reich at a rate of 14 miles a day on two slices of bread and four spuds. Great cheers go up. Seven spuds come round at 7 o’clock, the boys have been pinching again, bless ‘em. Very tired after today’s slog over some hard and rough roads and my legs are killing me. Jack’s favourite blister has burst yet again. We 'buy' 15ozs of sausage meat from a civvy farm worker for 15 cigarettes and sell 3ozs of liver for 20 cigarettes. We are getting quite expert at bartering.
12 miles

MAR 21st

Off at 9.40am, wait for remainder of the column and then whole compound moves off, first time we’ve been together since Swinemunde. Head winds, dust, perspiration and a slow pace all brass us off completely. Through Wanslitz then strike through the forest over bags of sand to Eldena, a small market town on the canal. Arrive Bresegard at 4.45pm and split up into small barns. 100 men in each. Meal at 6 o’clock of stale bread and sausage meat. Get the serviettes out Jack, we’re dining in style! Only two spuds come up but we have a hot wash in the yard. Hope we stay here tomorrow!
11miles

MAR 22nd

Do we Hell! Up at 5.30am but one consolation — we have two cups of marvellous thick soup before we leave at 7.30am. The old stomach feels quite full, rather a strange sensation these days. Glorious sunshine but with an Army overcoat, I hate it. Boy, do I sweat and my feet are deadly. Remind myself to take my boots off tonight. I’ll suffer for it next day though. Through Karenz, Conow and Mellis to Heidorf. Here I fall out for the usual and I’m rapped across the rear with a rifle butt by that brute of a Sergeant. I’ll do him one fine day. Have to tear down the road to catch the boys up but the guard tears with me so I don’t mind so much. Half a Red Cross parcel issued on the roadside and poor old Barracks 8, 9 and 10 have to carry the 50lb cartons for 1½ miles. Brave and stalwart fellows. If I carried one I’d collapse after a few yards. I just missed that ordeal through belting up the road to catch up. We cross the river Elbe just north of Domitz. River Rhine next stop boys then dear old Father Thames. Air raid begins and we turn off the main highway and have a rest. Bags of flak, give ‘em hell boys. Think of it, most of you up there will be back, necking in the back row of the flicks tonight — Ah! Woe is Me! Another three miles down the winding road by the river Damnatz where we stay the night. A rudimentary stew and a hot brew then a shave and a wash. This is a cheap existence, one razor blade has lasted me eight weeks. A good night’s rest for a change and I dream of home sweet home.
16 miles

MAR 23rd

Two cans of soup with a bit of meat in them from the Hun for breakfast. Resting here today, ideal spot too on the banks of the Elbe. If we had a boat out I’d imagine myself on the Thames back home. A goon tells us we’re getting a full parcel today. Right, we’ll see how that turns out. He’s given us a load of duff gen up till now. Glorious sunshine all day, sitting outside on the straw. Spring is here, snowdrops and swallows knocking around. 1/5 loaf and 1/25lb of margarine issued. They’ll kill themselves with generosity any moment now. Decent spud ration for tea and we also have a piece of toast from a local farmer. Clean my boots for the first time having sneaked a Jerry’s boot polish and brushes when he wasn’t around. Most of us have a touch of sunstroke. I feel very tired and have a splitting headache. We must have come through many degrees of longtitude because seven weeks ago we were marching in deep snow and ice, now we’re being bitten by mosquitoes!
Nil

MAR 24th

Off we go at 8.30 but hang around on the road for a hell of a time. Half a parcel issued on the road and we set course for Dannenburg. Fairly large town and much bomb damage evident. Amusing how the pace quickens when the boys pass their handiwork! Usual air raid in progress but we go to Tripkau and Melzingen. Sun really hot by now and I’m perspiring like mad and tired out. Finish day’s march at Bredenbock, 100 men to a barn.
16 miles

MAR 25th

Set out at 8am with nothing inside us. That’s nothing new however. Three chickens made a quick exit from this world overnight. Wally had a banty! Pass through Gut Collase, and Zienitz and then an air raid begins. Formations of U.S. bombers fly over us and bomb further on. What a super sound it is! Then a monotonous plod for eight miles, no sign of a village for ages until we hit Himbergen, where most of the column stay for the night. We strike unlucky and do an extra three miles to Almsdorf. Good barn, 80 of us with electric light as well. Generous ration of spuds and Jack and I dig into the parcel with a slice of bread and jam and prunes and powdered milk. That was very nice Jack, come again. One yank finds an upholstered seat from a car, and an old table. He wistfully imagines himself in the Waldorf Astoria, no doubt. The straw spoils the effect somewhat. Could I do with a wash, these perishing mice are becoming mechanised.
15 miles

MAR 26th

Off at 8.30am after waiting for the rest of the column. A good pace for a change and most of the blokes in step. Six miles go past in no time, through Romstedt, Bevensen, Nassen, Nettdorf, and Emmendorf. Sun very hot and pace slows down. Roads becoming grim, these cobblestones play hell with my blisters and aching feet. Barracks 1-4 and 8-9 and 10 go ahead but we stay behind. Never found out the name of the village, the German RAC has fallen down on the job. One thing about the country, you always know where you are, signposts all over the place. Small barn but uncomfortable and I shiver as soon as I lay down. Billious during the night and sick three times. Out another four times for the usual. Off the old food and Jack has my spuds. Sleepless night. I sit in a buggy with a guard to get some fresh air after being sick in the night. Oh Lord, spare me from dysentery again!
13 miles

MAR 27th

Day of rest and I’m very grateful. In the old pile of straw most of the day, but have half a bath in a bucket of water. Don’t eat my spuds so Jack tucks in once again. News flash! We’re supposed to go three miles to Uelzen, get split up and go by cattle truck to some camp. Yah! 1pm we pack up and move to Ebsdorf — 5 miles away. Crikey, it may be true so the boys tear along the road with trains before their eyes and we’re there in just over 1½ hours. That’s the fastest we’ve walked yet. Several budding Olympic walkers in this mob. Yes, the trainload of cattle trucks are there and we all pile into them at Ebsdorf Bahnhof. But what a blow. These trucks usually hold 8 horses or 40 men and even then we’re crowded. On this occasion , the hard pressed Germans cram no less than 80 men into a truck. It is a physical impossibility to sit down. Dear Lord, how long will this last? Now we decide to get cracking on the grub we have left in our parcels. Remembering the sad occasion when we moved to Luft 4 and had our food stolen by the Jerries we are determined not to take any with us into this new camp. Off we go with a hunk of bread, spam, cheese and jam and the parcel slowly deflates. Then I begin to feel ill and can’t eat another thing. This is the most tragic moment of my life. Here am I, been longing for a super meal for weeks and now I’ve had it. My God, am I ill! Sick twice, and a 'GI' in a Klim cam, a masterpiece of precision work. The doors have been closed a long time and the air is pretty foul. We’re on our way, however and about 2am we stop for 20 minutes. Jack helps me out, and I see Doc Pollock who doses me with opium. Relieves the pain a hell of a lot. Locked in again and pass a horrible night. Everyone swears he prefers marching to this hell on earth.
5 miles

MAR 28th

Finally arrive at Fallingbostel, near Hanover. 1½ miles to walk from the station but we’re mighty thankful to stetch our legs. Arrive at Stalag X1b, a mixed Army camp of French, British, Serbs, Yugoslavs and Indians. Hang around and then searched in a huge marquee. None of the Germans pinch any food and a couple of cigarettes skilfully planted in their hands gets us through the search without any bother. Camp is horribly overcrowded, most of the British are Airborne chaps in their weird 'jumping suits'. Nearly all were captured at Arnhem and like all new prisoners they’re 'airborne' all the time. What 'Stories of the Air' we are subjecetd to. Grub stakes very poor, only 1/2 parcel has been issued here during the last 3 weeks and the German rations consist of three spuds, 'whispering grass' and two cups of weak ersatz coffee. Soon after we arrive a mass funeral takes place. 15 of the boys are buried in plain wooden coffins. The majority of them just wasted away. I’m not feeling any too happy at this dismal sight. Up half the night with the old 'GI’s' and lose my trousers temporarily. We are all herded together in a huge marquee and I have approximately a space one foot wide to sleep in. The long trek has now ended and so has the diary, I’m afraid. No more writing paper or toilet paper so we have to use grass and straw!
What have we come to?
1½ miles

MAR 29th - APR 8th

I’ve scrounged a few scraps of paper but this must be very brief. Our stay at X1b is destined to be cut short, curse it. The offensive on the Western Front has opened up in full blast and now we are being evacuated from Montgomery’s Army. Presumably we shall meet the Russians half way back. The Army boys are staying behind but the poor old RAF have got to march away. We have spent 11 days idle and hungry and we’re all in. Blokes have been dying every day, including poor old Harry Bliss. He was taken ill with appendicitis in the cattle trucks and was kept locked up in agony. He died soon after we got here. In many ways I am glad to get out of here. We stand a little more chance of picking up odd bits of food on the road. Another month of this and I’m pretty sure many of us would hit the long, long trail. I can’t forget that Russian who was taken into the mortuary, covered with a sheet. The sheet was practically flat to the stretcher.

We move out at 12 noon on the 8th and I say goodbye to the pals we’ve made here, including Ginger and Sammy and some of the boys of the local Regiment. It was good to meet them. See you all at home very shortly! Fairly good rations given to us before we leave including flour and dehydrated cabbage. Accompanied by Army guards we march 12 miles through Nordbostel to Bleckmarch. The route is over country similar to Salisbury Plain and it has been used for the same purpose by German artillery. Decent barn and a liberal issue of spuds. Sleep pretty well wondering how far away the British Army is right now.
12 miles

APR 9th

Rest today. Three decent meals today of spuds, pinched from a store below the barn and a cabbage issued yesterday. Got a fresh loaf of bread from a Russian Army captain for a pound of German margarine. Pretty good deal that, no sentiment in business.
Nil

APR 10th

Off at 9am through Bergen. Miss the main road and cover extra five miles detour. Jack and I fall out for the usual and hide in a ditch. The column moves on and we come out later. There’s a German soldier down the road nattering away to a bevy of German maidens outside a farm so back we go again for a meeting to discuss tactics. Go a mile down the road, not a soul about and we make for an X1B Kommando, which is billeted outside a farm. Sit in a ditch to rest and wait a while when luck deserts us and a truck with all the stragglers aboard comes along. A German sees us and we’ve had it. I spin ‘em a yarn we’ve come from another column going another way but does he believe me, does he hell! Get in Jack. Ah well, it was nice being free for a while. We catch the column up but they won’t allow us to get off and we ride all the way to Trauen 6 miles on. Not enough barn accommodation and many sleep in the open air. Hardly any water available. Jack and I are in the barn but we have a deadly night. The lice and other small animals swarming over me give me hell. They’ve been multiplying for some time now but we can’t get rid of them. They are in our clothing, hair and it’s pretty grim not being able to wash.
16 miles.

APR 11th

Rest today, no one, Germans included, seems to know the score. Some of the boys from the column in front come back in opposite direction and there’s mass confusion. Don’t tell me the Russians are that close! Go into the river nearby and have a bath. Very cold but I prefer to shiver than have these deadly lice. Shed some of my clothing and throw it away as it’s full of animals! If we go on much longer I shall be the first bloke to cross the Third Reich in the nude. The afternoon is well spent by slinking into a garden and pinching some rhubarb. We make a tart with the flour and water and eat in style. This is better than the old Stalag! Exciting tonight. Spitfire and Typhoons shoot up an aerodrome just across the road, and are in combat with FW.190’s just above our heads. The boys all scamper into the barn, under bushes, blocks of wood and any cover available. We see a 190 go down in flames. What a bloody cheer went up. Another night of ‘hunting’. That bath didn’t do me any good.
Nil

APR 12th

Plod on across the fields and cart tracks to Wellingbostel. During a rest in the woods I find a propoganda newspaper dropped by the RAF. Gives us all the up-to-date gen and we devour it greedily. The Huns are reading it as well. Also find some ration cards and some leaflets dropped by the boys. Excellent barn, 17 of us in it and we’re locked in, the Huns don’t know we’re there. There’s even a lorry in here with us. Any petrol about? Just a slice of bread for supper, then go to sleep. The majority of the boys are out in the open in the wood.
15 miles.

APR 13th

Make a fire as usual out in the open, all budding Boy Scouts now. Stealing wood from the civvie's woodshed while Jack gets a few spuds cooked. No bread issued so we make a few biscuits from the last of the flour. Off we go at 1 o’clock along a dusty road for 5 miles to Betzendorf. Not a bad place and we go on the scrounge till bedtime. No joy!
5 miles

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