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I was captured on the 29th June 1942, at 10 miles east of Mersa Matruh after an unsuccessful attempt of a breakout by our brigade, from behind the German lines.

There was twelve of us in a 10 tonner which unfortunately was hit by a mortar (I think) and put out of action.

We were herded into an area where hundreds of our forces were being held as prisoners, and so started life as a POW for 34 months.

The first person I saw milling about in the crowds was an old pal who was called up with me in February 1940 called Dave Wagstaff. I had last seen him in the latter months of 1941.

After around seven to ten days we were loaded onto old Italian lorries and driven with escort to Sidi Barrani, where there must have been between five to six thousand of us.

While waiting at Sidi Barrani for our next move we used to sit in little groups and natter about all sorts of subjects mostly though about food, which of course we were short of. In due course it turned out that ten of us always appeared to be in the same group, so we decided to stick together. They were George (Bouncer) Russell, Dave Wagstaff, Cpl. George (Spud) Taylor, Ginger Watmough, Taffy Evans, Bob Avery, Stan Studd, Frank Hyam, Sgt. George Southgate and myself.

In October 1942 we were put in an old Italian ship, put down the holds and boarded over until we arrived at a port called Brindisi. A few days were spent in a field until we entrained in cattle trucks and had two days travelling to a camp called Campo 82 at a place called Latrina.

We were billeted in tents , twelve - fifteen in a tent. We got one meal a day. A loaf the size of a hot cross bun, plus a bowl of watery mixture called stew! (If you were lucky you found a horse’s tooth in the bowl.)

We managed to keep in the group and ended up in the same tent. Each morning and again at night we paraded for roll call, I don’t think the Iti’s ever got the same number twice.

Eventually the Italians built a row of huts, no windows or doors, in which we were housed. The bunk beds were two tiers high and sighted along the length of the huts.

We had five double bunks all together, lucky again. The conversation was grub, fags, home life and roll on the boat!!

Things improved slightly after the red cross parcels arrived. These really helped to keep us alive. Soon a market formed where you could exchange one article for another, of course a lot of bartering went on to get what you wanted.

There was an area allocated for brewing up etc. and all sorts of ovens were made up from the empty tins from the Red Cross parcels and we made corned beef stew, Yorkshire puddings and all sorts of concoctions turned up, but nothing was wasted.

We tried to keep fit by doing all sorts of exercise, running, walking, games, mostly football. International games caused a lot of amusement, South Africa versus Scotland; England versus Ireland etc. - all good fun. On one occasion Spud offered to be the referee (Scotland v Ireland) football match. All went well until the goalkeeper picked the ball up outside the penalty area. Blowing his whistle he gave a penalty which was completely wrong. The crowd went crazy and a Sgt. Pye took over. Poor old Spud was booed off the pitch. First time I think a ref. got a red card!! We then lost Bouncer and Frank Hyam as they were picked for a working party. I next saw Bouncer after we got home. So that left eight of us in the party. And so life went on until the Italians capitulated in September 1943. All the Italian guards disappeared on September 12th. 1943.

Our bright RSM and sergeants in charge of the camp told everybody to keep calm and remain in the camp and everything would be OK (how clever and wrong could one be).

Monday 13th September 1943 announced the arrival of the Germans, and on the 17th September after a few days of mayhem we were marched off to the station put into cattle trucks ,about forty in a truck. Our first stop was Bologna, where we had to change trucks.

We arrived in Germany at Stalag IVb about 1a.m. of Monday 20th of September 1943.
We were marched to a field, we had to strip and our heads were shaved by horse clippers. We then had a cold shower, all our clothes were deloused and fumigated and left in a large heap.

We then entered a large hut where four doctors stood and we got four inoculations, two in the chest and one in each arm. After that we had to find our clothes (if you were lucky!).We were marched to a hut and left there until seven o’clock the next morning. A cup of some sort of coffee and a slice of black bread was breakfast.

In parties of eight we arrived for our photo session. Four sat on a bench and the other four stood at the back. We all had to hold our POW numbers up in front of us and then be photographed. Yes it was the same eight faces on the photo. Shortly after Sgt. Southgate and Dave Wagstaff were detailed for a working party. Then there were six (just like the ten green bottles). Later we were then allocated to another working party consisting of South Africans, Irish, English etc. - about fifty altogether.

So I became POW No. 223954 at Stalag IVb and life in Germany started.

Tuesday 5th of October 1943. Our working group left Stalag IVb for IXc at Urfurt which was a working camp about a five mile walk away. We arrived on Wednesday 6th October.

Thursday 7th October. We left IXc camp for a sugar factory and arrived at a place called Stobnitz at 8.30pm where we got a hot meal of cabbage stew and a third of a red cross parcel.

Sunday 10th October 1943. I was detailed night work 6pm through to 6am. Every two weeks we changed shifts and worked 18hours out of 24 hours. During the changeover myself and a chap called Bob Avery were put on outside work called hocking. This meant using a fork like a pitch fork and pulling the sugar beets into a channel of moving water which in turn took the beets into the factory, turning them into sugar, etc.

During November and December it was very unpleasant at 2 o’clock and 3 o’clock in the morning in the snow and wind and ice etc. When the sugar beets were finished we had to fill the railway trucks with the snitchel (This is what was left of the beets after the sugar was extracted). This was used to feed the cattle. This went on until Sunday 2nd of January 1944.

Sunday January 2nd 1944. We were marched away from the sugar factory and entrained for the Sweilager.

Monday January 3rd 1944. We arrived at Mulhausen prison camp. It took three hours to march to camp.

Sunday January 9th 1944. I was put in hospital bay with an attack of malaria (originally had six weeks in hospital in Sierra Leone in 1940-41.)

Tuesday January 11th 1944 discharged and sent to catch up with the old working party who had gone on to a salt mine at a place called Merkers. Arrived at 4.30pm. Owing to my stay in the sick bay I lost touch with my working mates, and was put in a hut full of Scots, who were captured in 1940 time of Dunkirk. My bunk was next to a young Scot called Stephen Frazer who came from Inverness. We palled up together, most of the other Scots were not very friendly, I must say.

I had my revenge though - We had an England versus Scotland football match one afternoon and we won 1-0 -- guess who scored? YES ME - my name was mud back in the hut, they didn’t even speak to me for quite a while - still revenge is sweet!

29th January 1944. Received news through the Red Cross that my father had died. I arranged through the German Camp Commander and the Red Cross to have my army pay plus my Prudential pay made payable to my mother to assist her with the weekly expenses, etc.

Commenced work down the mine. 6.30am - 2.30pm with no days off at all. As you went down the mine you got a bottle of water which you returned each end of shift. There was one blessing though, you got a hot shower each day after your shift, you then marched back to camp. Some days there were searches as you arrived back at camp.

My work was with two Germans, one was about 65-70 and the other about 40. We had to clear the road ahead, level it all out and then lay the rails for the wagons to go further into the mine. I suppose we were working about two miles from the pit head and we rode in an old type charabanc of the 1930’s (no top just seat benches across the width of the coach. About forty of us rode in it.

The mine was about two thousand feet down, and the main roads were about fifteen feet wide and ten to twelve feet high. The workings branched out either side of the main road.

Blasting took place after each shift. The main thing to remember was keep looking above you for any loose rock likely to fall down.

Towards the end of February and March 1945 stoppages got longer as the air raids lasted longer each week, this went on until April 2nd 1945 when we were again marched away to ? Nobody will ever know as we never reached there.

The Final March. We marched each day from 9am until around 4pm with short rests in between . We got coffee (so called) with a piece of bread before starting and about 5pm (most days) something to eat. Nights were spent in village halls, barns or some nights in a field if you weren’t near to a village.

This went on until (I think) 21st April 1945 when we saw some young boys eating chocolate and gum. We asked them where they got it. They replied from the Yanks in a large tank.

We decided to tell the two old guards to disappear and go home. We turned around and retraced our steps. Unfortunately nothing turned up that day . We saw nobody , not even a Jerry. We came to a village square and it was decided to find shelter for the night. Steve Frazer and I with others went into the hotel and bar and demanded shelter for the night. The owner must have thought we were the advancing army and he said OK. He gave us coffee and some bread (black of course). We all agreed to meet in the square at 8 o’clock the next morning. During the night we heard a lot of heavy armour and lorries going through the square.

The following morning 22nd April 1945 we all met up again and moved off about 8.30am. It must have been around 12.30 or 1pm as we went through this forest road we saw straight ahead this enormous tank with its gun pointing at us. We all stopped dead and a sergeant in charge of us walked ahead to the tank and explained who we were. Fags, chocs, K rations showered down on us and they put us on their tank and took us back to a little village and told us to wait there for further instructions.

As we walked down the main road we saw hundreds of displaced persons: Poles, Czechs, Russians, all sorts. Quite a lot were milling around a certain shop. The owner of the shop was gesticulating at the crowd. On seeing us he came up and said he was the village baker, and they were after bread. Our sergeant detailed us to help. I stood at the door and let them in one at a time. In due course the bread ran out, so we had to turn the rest away. The baker was quite happy and we all went into his back room and had coffee.

Shortly after the Yanks came back with a truck and said they would take us back. Guess where we ended up?

Yes - our old camp at the salt mine. What a waste of time and marching around for twenty days - for what?

Soon after that was when the Yanks brass hats (General Patten etc.) saw the gold and pictures stored down the mine. Some we saw being bricked up in some of the old workings. They were brought in lorries during the night.

We then spent another three days at the camp before the Yanks came back and took us to a large store by an air strip. We were kitted out in Yankee uniforms, and flown to Brussels before we were handed to the Red Caps. What a difference. What’s your name, number, rank, unit - where and when were you captured, and on and on. We were then given some cash and free again for two more days.

28th April 1945. The RAF came and took us to an airfield and they flew us to Wing in Aylesbury in Lancasters. We arrived about 4.30pm and went in a large hanger and given tea etc. Then by army lorries to the camp at Wing.

We were told we would be going on leave in three days . It turned out to be eight or nine days. Refitted out in British army uniforms, ration books etc. The Women’s Institute sewed all our ribbons and stripes on and we were told we would be taken by lorry to the station.

I arrived home around 4 o’clock on May 7th. The end of five years of wasted life and still one more year before being demobbed in February 1946.

I have worked out roughly the hours I worked (5000 hours). The rest of the time left of the day was spent locked up in your hut. No recreation outdoors, poor food and no wages. Would you call this ‘Slave Labour’

6021932
D Coy.¼ Battalion
The Essex regiment
4th Indian Division
Left England August 1940.
ÃÛÑ¿´«Ã½ May 1945.

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