Dusk came and in accordance with the regulations, we retired once more to our billets. I joined in a game of bridge with Diffy and Jack and a young American officer. I am afraid that none of
us could work up a great deal of enthusiasm, as the novelty of being able to go to bed had not worn off and we were all really quite anxious to have another early night, while the chance was there. One of the big advantages that I found these barrack rooms had over our Nissen huts back at base, was the fact that lights had to be out at 10 p.m. and there was no disposition as was often the case at home, for some of the fellows to want to talk until well into the small hours. Everybody was in bed and asleep by the time the lights were turned off, and as on the previous night, we all slept like logs. Unfortunately, when we were awakened by a loud voice outside in the passage imploring us to get up at once, it didn’t seem, from the colour of the sky outside, that it was anything like the normal rising time!
T
he gentlemen with the watch announced that it was 5 a.m. There was a lot of shouting and grumbling going on from the other fellows and we soon learnt that our orders were to pack and we were to leave immediately. When we visualised our few belongings, we considered that the word ‘pack’ was hardly appropriate. It seemed that there was a set method laid out of wrapping up one’s belongings into the two ends of a rolled up blanket, in such a fashion that it could be worn across the shoulders with little or no inconvenience. There was a plan hung up on the wall at the entrance to the barrack block, showing exactly how this should be done. As the guards seemed to be in a desperate hurry for us to get moving, there was much frantic scambling up and down by the fellows who had their stuff out on the floor at the far end of the passage and who were anxious to have the thing done in the proper manner. The system seemed to need a
fearful amount of room in the initial stages, as the blanket had to be laid out flat, and the chaos that existed with people charging up and down the passage, trampling over each other’s blankets and kicking one another’s possessions all over the place, can be imagined.
Amid the general confusion and hubbub, German guards were dashing in and out shouting at us in their best English to hurry up and get outside.
‘We move at once,’ said one guard in a strange, dull monotone that was to become one of the most familiar sounds to us in the days that followed.
I managed my pack in fair style, remembering at the last minute to snatch my washing off the line and to remind Arthur about his. I joined the growing crowd outside, just in time to hear my name called. It seemed, even then, that although everybody, whatever his state of health, had been got out of bed and forced to line up outside, only those whose names were called and who were fit, were going to travel. The out-going party were ordered to line up in a fresh group by the main gates. When at last we were in something like order, a count was taken and it was found that there were eighty-two of us. Our American Colonel gave us a short address and told us to take heart, as it was quite possible that we should be back in the camp that evening He did not appear to be going with us, although we had two Wing
Commanders as well as an American Major in our party.
We were issued with a supply of chocolate and cigarettes and then at the last moment, it seemed that there was a hitch about food, as the Germans were alleged only to have enough for their own men. Apparently on an impulse, the Colonel ordered us to be supplied with a full American Red Cross parcel each. We thought that at least we ought not to starve for a few days, but carrying the parcel was causing everyone concern, as it was quite heavy and rather bulky for placing under the arm. For those of us who had the material, a piece of string tied round the box provided a temporary, although not very efficient, solution.
Outside the gates, the contingent of German guards and members of the
Luftwaffe
were also getting themselves organised. There seemed to be a very large number of them and they had two or three trucks with their equipment on. One very large vehicle, which would have been horse-drawn had they possessed a horse, was packed so high with kit, that it looked as though at any minute the whole lot might fall to the ground. This fearful-looking load, it seemed, was to be pushed and pulled by a party of guards detailed for the purpose. We could understand the guards being in a hurry to get us outside, because the organisation of the whole outfit into some semblance of an ordered unit, must have taken at least an hour and a half. Finally, we were all ready
to go and on the word of command from the German Major who was in charge of our cavalcade, we moved off slowly down the road.
The people with the horseless cart led the way, followed by a substantial body of Germans marching in a column, and then came the party of prisoners who were lined on each side of the road by a single column of guards. There were a further few files of
Luftwaffe
men behind us and bringing up the rear were all the small trucks with the kit and then the inevitable crowd of small children, who assembled as if by magic once the party got on the way. The morning was misty, which probably accounted for the extremely hasty departure. The general impression among the prisoners seemed to be that the American Armies were advancing towards Wetzlar from the direction of Frankfurt and if we had any luck at all, there was a good chance of our being caught up before the day was over.
Making a nice steady pace of about 2½ miles an hour, we swung down the hill into Wetzlar. The whole population on Wetzlar seemed to have turned out to see us go by, some of them obviously under the impression that we were the American Army moving in. Heaven alone knows what some of these misguided people thought when the American troops actually did come along, for the effect, as in due course we were to learn, was very little short of devastating. Wetzlar had been very heavily and recently bombed and we proceeded
with great difficulty over some of the roads, which were blocked by craters, and which were very muddy and slippery, even on those parts that were actually undamaged. We did not, at any rate, have to worry about being attacked by civilians as we had done so many times during that part of our ‘tour’ spent with Karl and Adolf.
We marched on and on. There was obviously a great desire by the Germans to place as big a distance as possible between themselves and the Dulag, and as long as everybody was fresh, they saw no purpose in stopping. It would have been about 6.30 a.m. when we left the camp and we must have walked for nearly three hours before we had our first break, which was a compulsory one, due to the presence of Allied aircraft overhead. During the break, the chief concern of a lot of the fellows was to make more adequate provision for the carrying of their Red Cross parcels. Some who had been members of the permanent staff at the camp, had managed to provide themselves with proper kitbags and they lost no time in ripping open their cardboard boxes and stowing the contents away Others unloaded their blankets and stuffed the tins of food etc., in the ends in the approved way, but they were soon to find that this method had every possible disadvantage. I thought that I would leave my food where it was for the time being.
The raid over, we moved on once more. Apart from a brief halt to obtain water from a farm
house, we made no further pause until around 12 noon, by which time we must have covered about 15 miles and we were all quite tired and extremely footsore. We dispersed into the woods and there was a brisk demand for can openers and penknives, or anything at all that would enable tins to be opened and inroads to be made into the stock of provisions. It all looked very nice, laid out in neat cardboard boxes. There were several tins of meat and other items such as biscuits, prunes, margarine, cigarettes etc. In fact, there was everything that was necessary to make up a tasty meal, if only we had possessed the necessary grounding in the form of either bread or potatoes. Whilst the biscuits served the purpose for the moment, it was obvious that if the march was going to be a long one, something would have to be done. Eating tins of salmon and such items entirely on their own was not only extremely wasteful, but quite likely to make the men feel ill, without really satisfying their hunger.
It was about this time that I first became friendly with Guy, who was a young fair-haired wireless operator. I did not learn his surname, but gathered that he had baled out on a raid on Köln a few weeks beforehand, and as far as he knew, he was the only member of his crew to survive. He did not appear to have any immediate friends in the party and as he and I seemed to get along, we soon started to spend most of our time together. I suggested to him (and to me it seemed a very
obvious course of action, although Arthur had already declined the scheme) that we pool all our rations, with a view to making them go as far as possible. He agreed, of course, and it really was common sense, because the tins of meat or fish were better eaten as soon as it they were opened and there was easily enough in any of them to make a good meal for two people. We discussed the problem of carrying our goods and finally hit upon the notion of using an item of clothing to make a kitbag. I made a rapid change of the long-legged service issue pants, for the ones I had washed. Then tying up the legs of the former, I found that they made a practical kitbag, which could be carried like the traditional tramp’s bundle on the end of a stick pushed over the shoulder
Everybody was trying to grapple with the same problem in his own way. The blanket idea was a dead loss from the start and obviously so, chiefly on account of the amount of space that was needed in order to get the things into the blanket in the prescribed fashion. (This actually was the only one by which they could be more or less relied upon not to fall out, as soon as the pack was slung over the shoulder.) It seemed that one could use the blanket to carry stuff in, or one could use it to keep warm at night, but only in the rarest circumstances was it likely to be of any practical use for both purposes. Some fellows still persisted, but I think that by the end of twentyfour
hours at any rate, nearly everbody had to devise some separate means of carrying his goods and chattels.
Much to our relief, the interval for lunch was prolonged by at least an hour owing to the presence of a team of roving Thunderbolts, who kept coming down to have a suspicious little peep at our contingent, no doubt wondering whether we were all we seemed to be. We were ordered to retire into the deepest recesses of the woods, where the trees were so close together that the chances of stray machine-gun bullets penetrating were very remote. It all helped to give us the rest we needed and we were duly grateful to our friends up above!
At length, at about 2.30 p.m., a further count was taken by the guards, and we pushed on. We had begun by this time, to be acquainted with the two English-speaking guards who between them, issued all our orders. There was one whom we called Claude, who wore glasses, and who spoke in a very precise, though slightly broken English accent. We did not like him very much and we were to learn that he could be very bad-tempered. The other one we nicknamed Joe. His English was deep and somnolent, and completely lacking in intonation. It was he whom we had heard shouting up and down the passage at the time that we were getting ready to depart.
The afternoon was hot, and the pace got slower and slower. We crossed the main road from
Marburg to Giessen, along which we had recently bowled in such good style with Adolf and Karl in the open truck, and got into well wooded and rather more hilly country on the other side. The halts for a rest became more frequent, due, we suspected, to the fact that the Jerries in charge of the wagon that ought to have had a horse found it so difficult to get up even the smallest hill without falling well behind. Not only did we have to wait for them to catch up, but they also would be in such sore straits when eventually they breasted the rise, that the pause had to be extended to enable them to recover. Our guards, too, were quite good about arranging for us to have a drink of water at some of the many villages we passed through. The system in force seemed to be, that Joe would borrow the Major’s bicycle and push on ahead. By the time the main force caught up again, several cottagers would be at their doors with pails of water ready for us to imbibe. Our chief difficulty for the moment was drinking vessels, but already some who had empty tins saved from lunch, were pressing them into service.
The most noticeable feature in all these villages was the extreme friendliness of the inhabitants, who could not move quickly enough to make sure that we had sufficient water. At one cottage a young girl threw out a handful of apples, which were readily grabbed by those who were nearest. When one of the Americans handed up a couple
of packets of cigarettes, the lass disappeared and came back in a few moments with a whole basket full of the fruit, which she showered into our eager arms below. I managed to secure one of this second issue, and mighty good it tasted, too. There was the usual complement of white flags hanging from the windows. As in Wetzlar, I felt sure that before they had established our identity. Many of the villagers thought that the victorious Allied armies were marching in.
At last, tired and footsore, we stopped in the small town of Allendorf and were led into the school yard. It would have been about 5.30 p.m., and already it was beginning to grow chilly. We wondered if any arrangements were in force to enable us to get under cover. It came, therefore, as an agreeable surprise when we were ordered to file into the school room, which turned out to be a clean, reasonably warm apartment. It had obviously been used before for the same purpose, for two of the sides were lined with straw to a depth of about six feet. Being among the first in, I was lucky enough to secure a berth on the straw; I saved a place for Guy, and soon we were inspecting our stock of tinned goods to see what should be our choice for the evening meal.
Selecting a moment when there were no Germans in the room, Wing Commander Kelly, who was our senior officer, gave us a brief talk. He told us that we were marching too well, and if we wanted to slow this effort down, it was up
to us to straggle as much as possible, and cause frequent halts to be made whilst those behind caught up. He also pointed out that our own common sense should dictate that our food would go further if parties of two or more arranged to share. He hoped that everyone would do this, as there was no means of telling how long we might be on the road. He doubted if even the Major knew where we were going to! The problem of bread was put to him, and he promised to see if anything could be done. Meanwhile, we were to go steady on the biscuits.
There was no light in the schoolroom, and we were warned that we ought to bed down by dusk. As we should probably be called before it was light, we should keep all our belongings handy, so as to avoid confusion when the time came to depart. It was then, that everyone who had not already done so, realised that his blanket, if it was doing duty as a haversack, was utterly useless as a means of keeping warm at night. Once unpacked (and the unpacking of it was most desperately easy), getting it packed securely again was next to impossible, for we were closeted in that little room like sardines in a tin.