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The Army That Didn’t March On It’s Stomach
(PART FIVE)

An Authentic Diary of The Forced March Undertaken By RAF POWs

APR 14th

Cook spuds over a fire all morning and then plod for three miles to Barnstedt. We are now only 10 miles from Ebstorf, where we boarded the cattle trucks for X1B. The farmer has just killed a horse when we arrived. We didn’t care whether it died from T.B. or anything else. We just got stuck in with a knife or razor blade and ran off triumphantly with a hunk of lung or God knows what else. Get the fire going Jack, we feast tonight. It tasted wizard. Tough but something to get the old teeth into.
3 miles

APR 15th

Find some rhubarb for breakfast. Added some German saccharine and it made a pleasant change. Moved at 1p.m. and do 4 miles to Eitzen. Here Jack and I make a dash for it. It’s now or never. We go past a farmyard and I keep an eye on the guards. They turn the other way for a moment or two, and I prod Jack and whisper 'left turn' and into the farmyard we dart sweating like mad. Into a cattle shed and under some straw and there we stay for a long time. No one appears and later some civvy kids come in and then race back to tell the old man. Two old ladies come in and we natter to them stalling all the time. They are scared stiff of the pair of us and keep telling us that the Allies will kill them when they arrive. We smooth them over with some propaganda and one old dear brings a postcard from her son who is a P.O.W. in Canada. I’ll bet he’s more comfortable than I am. Some Polish slave workers bring us food, cake, soft-boiled eggs, bread, margarine and coffee. It tasted like a five course dinner in Piccadilly. The farmer eventually arrives and he’s scared too. If he’s found harbouring POWs he’s for the wall and a firing squad. Fetches the Burgermeister who later brings in a German soldier. This is it, Jack, we’re off to join the column again. This soldier has fallen out with bad feet and we later leave the farm to hit the road once more. But luck is with us. A Polish slave worker comes tearing down the road and gives us some coffee and food to see us on our way. However, the Hun decides he’s had enough and back we go to the farm and spend the night there.
4 Miles

APR 16th

Breakfast in the kitchen of the farm. Milk, soup, bacon sandwiches and coffee! Wash clothes in a copper during the morning and for dinner we have a vegetable soup with onions and spuds. This is really wonderful. We’ve been talking to the guard all morning. He’s a disillusioned German, let down badly by the Feuhrer. He has lost his family in an air raid and his brothers on the Eastern Front and is horribly brassed off with the war, most of all with the march. So are we. With some diplomacy we persuade him to hide us up until the Allies come. He will be a prisoner in a week or so any way so what has he to lose?. Will he fall for it? We await events eagerly. At 5 p.m. we move on to Bienenbuttel, 4 miles away. He certainly is tired of marching. Things look very much in our favour. We will never catch the boys up by marching, only by truck can we make it. Air raid on the way and we stop by a cemetery! Then another halt in the middle of the wood and he leaves us with his rifle and kit while he nips smartly into the undergrowth. What the hell is he playing at? We arrive at the German village at 8 o’clock three hours later and stop by a house where a German brings us some apples. What a life. Two weeks ago we were being kicked and snarled at. Now they give us apples. The mentality of a defeated nation which crawls to the conquerors! Call at the Burgermeister’s house but he can’t do a thing with us. We go to the hotel where Germans are quartered and our hearts sink. But we’re kicked out. Whoopee! On we go to the outskirts to another farm and as soon as the hausfrau sees us she starts screaming abuse at us. The old guard talks to her and she takes us to a barn. Our straw beds are only a dozen yards from the road and we hear the Army lorries and troops going by. We go into the kitchen later and have a meal of fried eggs (first for two years), onions and lashings of milk. There’s more food on the table but we’re scared to eat it. We can’t believe it’s there, the result of the last few month’s privations. This is beyond our wildest dreams. I daren’t hope for too much, we’ve been disappointed so many times before. I don’t sleep very well, my brain is in a whirl.
4 miles

APR 17th

Up at 8.30a.m. and we help the little Russian girl in the kitchen. She’s about 18 and very pretty. Does she work hard! Jack and I feel sorry for her. Still you’ll soon be free, Olga, and the boot on the other foot. Huge breakfast and we’re called into the kitchen. Sheer luxury being called into meals and everything laid ready. Three platefuls of milk soup, bread, whey, cheese, jam, syrup, bacon and apples. Back to the straw to sleep, I can hardly stand. My poor old stomach can hardly cope with a meal of that size. For dinner we had potato soup, pork, stewed apples in syrup and coffee. Sit out in the sun and later the old guard brings us a bucketful of soup from the German Red Cross. I’ll guarantee they don’t know it’s for P’s O.W. in hiding! Later, supper (we couldn’t eat any tea) of soft-boiled eggs and sausage with hot milk. We’ve eaten more food to-day than we’ve had during the last month. The guard has worked it all out that our troops should be in the town by 4.30 a.m. tomorrow. Still a little pessimistic but the Germans are retreating like mad down the main road, just over the wall. They blew up the railway bridge this evening, and broke several windows in the house. I went flat on the ground, thinking the RAF were about. Another restless night.
Nil.

APR 18th

Up early for a wash and a shave. Looking quite smart these days. Help the Russian girl to carry buckets of water and then breakfast, more of the same. Sit out in the sunshine and fall asleep. And now the great moment arrives! The farmer’s uncle comes tearing into the yard from the town, yelling like mad and 'Heil Hitlering' every few yards. I know enough German to know what he’s saying — 'The English are here'! Absolutely wizard. Jack and I tear out of the gate with tears in our eyes. A council of war is held and one of us must stay and look after the guard who is now our prisoner and the other must go down to the town and see what’s cooking. Out comes a pack of cards. Jack cuts the jack of hearts and I get the two of spades. I retire to the kitchen and mount guard over ex-Gefreiter Marx. He whips off his badge of rank and insignia and they’re my souvenirs. I also have the rifle and bayonet and ammunition. Do I feel good! I’m on tenterhooks waiting for Jack to come back. Back he comes at 11.30 with a huge grin all over his face carrying sweets, chocolate, a box of cigars and biscuits. We give the biscuits, sweets and chocolate to the young Russian girl and Poles and puff contentedly on the cigars. The farmer and his wife realize the position we are in. We’re the bosses now and we’re invited into the dining room for a feast. Soup, rabbit, spuds, sauce, ham, stewed rhubarb and cherries make up the menu and we lean back in the armchair feeling that life is indeed good. I can’t believe it’s true. Have a wash and smarten up to meet our liberators and off we go with our prisoner between us. Just outside the gate we hear a Cockney voice and a smiling face appears. It's a soldier with his pal and they’re carrying loads of eggs. We just about hug them in delight, we’re the first liberated POWs. they’ve met. On down the raod and we meet a Captain in a scout car. We tell him who we are and out comes more grub. Into the hotel we go, the same one from which we were thrown out of the other evening. The Tommies are there in force drinking the place dry. Cups of strong Army tea are brought in and we’re the guests of honour. Then a mug of beer and down to the cellar where we find some clothes. I shed my old lice-infected clothing and fix myself up with a new shirt that has a collar miles too big for me, a smart suit, a red tie and a pair of soft black leather boots. Also pinch two bottles of preserved Strawberries and some soap and a suitcase. The German civvies are crying and protest but remembering the events of the past I have no pity whatever. We move up to the transport section and have our photographs taken by a Tommy. Off we go in a lorry and I’ve got an old 'News of the World' too! I devour every word. We’re going home at long last and at a stop on the roadside the Tommies cook us fried eggs and onions, and some bully beef. Then on we go and find we’re advancing with the 11th Armoured Division to Luneburg. The tanks open up at Messerschmitts and F.W.’s and we’re scared stiff. God, wouldn’t it be awful to be captured again. Stay in a farm at night and have a wizard supper and actually listen to the 9 o’clock news from England. Can’t sleep a wink, far too excited so get up for a smoke. Out I go at 5 a.m. and help a soldier light the fires in the field kitchens. So ends a glorious day, the happiest of my life and the one we waited so long for. Soon be home, Mum. I sent her a postcard this afternoon, won’t she be delighted to receive it? Our minds are too confused to think properly, we want to rush home in a couple of hours but we’ll try and be patient.

APR 19th

Lovely breakfast of porridge, fried eggs, sausages, bread and butter. Then delouse myself and my precious blanket sent from home. I’ve carried it all this way and it’s going back home on my bed. Off we go at 10 a.m. back to Bienbuttel. From Merdack we then go to Celle. Pass German aerodromes with dozens of burnt-out aircraft. Also see hordes of Russians, French and Poles making their way back on foot mostly. But six are in a huge car, driven by four horses! Arrive Celle at 6 o’clock and meet Norman Rees in the market place and a joyful re-union takes place. Billeted in Army Barracks and given a meal. They won’t allow us to overeat, several of the boys are in pain, their stomachs just can’t take it. Sleep soundly on the floor of the hut.

APR 20th

Up at 8 o’clock and after breakfast we queue up to be registered. The boys are coming in by the dozen now, wonder where the old column is by now. I expect they have crossed the Elbe. Draw clean army battledress from a store and after a bath I become a soldier. After tea we go to the cinema. The film is very old and I fall asleep. Geoff Neeves and Don Goddard roll in later that night. They’ve been hiding in a wood and the Tommies thought Don was with a girl-friend. Geoff’s hair is so long these days. Complete diary by candlelight. Almost finished it now thank God.

APR 21st

Up early and we are soon off on another stage of the journey home. We pile into lorries and the convoy moves off in a rainstorm. Arrive at Nienburg at 2 o’clock and given a meal of stew and rice pudding. Meet a fellow from Oxford and have a drop of rum with him and a long talk about home. Promise to visit his people and take a message back for him. He gives me two souvenirs of Holland, a couple of silk scarves. Hang around the rest of the day, very impatient. Write to Mum.

APR 22nd

The rich food that we’ve been having these last few days has made me feel very ill. Yesterday, Jack and I ate a 2lb fruit pudding each with cream and then went down to dinner and knocked back Irish stew. It’s difficult to turn away from the good food but I’d rather not have that deadly dysentery again. Many of the chaps have been very ill through over-eating. May leave for England tomorrow. Prowl around the German stores again looking for anything worth having then into bed. Tomorrow night should see us in England once more.

APR 23rd

Nothing happens all day, so Jack and I go to the cinema and see some news reels and Mickey Mouse. Halfway through the picture some bloke comes in and yells 'POWs outside'. You never saw such a rush. Everybody dead scared the trucks would leave without them. We don’t move off for two hours so into the Q.M.’s office and we sample some red wine looted from France. Feel rather drunk but very happy. Leave at 10 pm in the trucks. Uncomfortable, almost as bad as the cattle truck but we’re all very cheerful.

APR 24th

We ride all night and one truck crashes into a tree killing the driver and seriously injuring several POWs. Wake up with a stiff neck and aches all over. We’re at Borghorst and we raid a milk lorry outside the dairy. Billeted in town for five hours and I have a good long sleep. Charge into a German house and have a feed, wash and shave. The Huns didn’t murmer. Leave at 2 o’clock for Rheine airport and drive right up to the aircraft. Seperated from Jack for the second time. See you in Blighty, Jack. We’re soon airborne and on the last stage for home. Soon we leave Germany behind, over Belgium and France, the Channel and then the white cliffs of Dover. There are several lumps in throats as the boys gaze at them. Pass along the coast to Dungeness then across Guilford and we land at Dunsfold at 6.30 p.m. I'm first out and a W.A.A.F. rushes up to kiss me. That was worth all the two years of deprivation. Even S.P.’s come up and greet us. One bloke, a prisoner for over five years, sits on the grass and weeps unashamedly. The welcome bowls us over. The good old Red Cross is there in force and the hanger is hung with flags and a huge 'WELCOME HOME' sign fluttering from the roof. A wizard tea, £2 advance pay, a rest and off we go to London. The money jingles merrily in our pockets. All the W.A.A.F.’s follow the truck on their bicycles, what a glamorous guard of honour!. Leave Guilford and arrive London at 9.30 where we mob the first policeman we see. He doesn’t know what’s happening. Off to a hotel at Euston, beds all made for us, new pyjamas, a bag of good things from the Red Cross and a final message from them. The message reads 'We salute you and wish you the best of luck'. I rather think we should salute them as without their wonderful help we wouldn’t be here to enjoy the welcome. A bath, a real bath, and I lay in it for two hours. Jump out as weak as a rat but really clean this time. This is sheer heaven.

APR 25th

Off at 10 a.m. for Paddington and we’re in Cosford reception centre by 12.30 p.m. Another terrific welcome, rekitted with new RAF uniforms, interrogated by intelligence chaps and more gifts from the R.A.F. and the Red Cross. Organisation superb and we remain here till 9 a.m next day.

APR 26th

Now we’re really on the way. Arrive Oxford at 1 p.m. and on the local bus to Witney at 2.15 p.m. Sent a wire to Mum. Arrive home at 3 p.m. and she is waiting for me. The great moment has arrived, even more wonderful than I had expected. No words can describe my feelings. I think I’ll leave the Diary here. I’m alive and home and very very happy, what more can I ask?

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