Since I posted the second episode of Frank’s war story, it is interesting that Danny’s excellent new thread has shown that many, who experienced or witnessed the brutal horrors of what Frank calls “the real war”, were reluctant to talk about their experiences. On the lighter side, some have shared how war brought them romance and a partner for life. The third and final episode of Frank’s story has both of these features.
After a short spell in a local POW camp, Frank was put on a ship to Naples and then by train to spend about 2 years in a POW camp at Serviagliano. It was here that he developed many of the manual skills which, apart from stealing, formed the basis of his career in later life.
In September 43 the Italians surrendered and for some reason The War Office ordered all UK prisoners to remain in their prison camps. However, the Senior British Officer at the camp ignored that ruling and Frank, along with two friends, joined about 2000 others in an attempt to make it to Switzerland. For some weeks they were helped by the local population but, when the Germans started to punish anybody who helped them, they tried to make it on their own. They headed North but the rapidly approaching Autumn and wearing out shoes made their progress over the higher ground extremely difficult and they were forced to retreat into a valley where they were spotted and captured by a passing German convoy.
The three of them were put into a cattle truck and started a long train journey to Germany. They spent the time trying to cut a hole in the floor of the truck with three spoons they had been given. They did get through but couldn’t make a big enough hole to escape through. It was during this journey, while still in Italy, they found out what it was like to be on the receiving end of a ground attack when their train was attacked by a flight of Marauders.
Frank and his two friends eventually arrived at Stalag 7A, Germany’s biggest POW camp. He spent a few months there before it was back into a cattle truck for a trip to Leipzig and Stalag 4B where he remained until the Russians arrived and then, he says, he found out what war was really all about.
It was one morning in the Spring of 1945 that the camp residents awoke to find that their German guards had gone. Soon after, the camp was invaded by a lot of local women and children seeking protection from the advancing Russian army. Obviously the prisoners could do nothing and as soon as the Russian soldiers arrived, they took the women and children from the camp and pretty much left the POWs alone. These had been the front line troops and they soon left to carry on fighting the Germans, leaving a bit of a vacuum behind them before the main Russian troops arrived to take over the city. During this time Frank left the camp to forage for food and it was then he discovered the horror of what happened to the German women. Many of them lay dead in the streets with their clothing ripped off.
He found an old bicycle which was ok apart from a flat front tyre and started to extend his searches for food. On one trip he came across an undamaged house which had obviously been occupied by a high ranking family. It sported a grand piano and a well stocked wine cellar. While he was exploring this house, he was accosted by two Russian soldiers and he was terrified that, with his blond hair, they would think that he was a German. However, he managed to convince them that he was American and they let him go. He got back on the bike and continued until he reached the River Elbe and a thoroughly bombed rail bridge. He could see the rails were unbroken, sagging beneath the water, so he made his was across with the water up to his neck. To his great relief the troops on the other side were American and his ordeal was over.
The Americans flew him to Brussels in a Dakota. They flew low over the middle of Cologne and the sight of the widespread devastation of that city, with the Cathedral standing apparently undamaged, reinforced his appreciation of the horrors of the real war.
From Brussels he was flown back to Benson in a Lancaster and then on to Church Fenton where they didn’t know what to do with him. At that time Church Fenton was being used to store surplus American vehicles and Frank used some of his POW skills to try to acquire a Jeep. Eventually they sent him home for 4 months recuperation with about £1800 worth of back pay and his first difficult decision of what car to buy. Initially tempted to spend a considerable part of his pay on a new SS100 for £850 or an MG TB for £500 , he eventually saw sense and bought a brand new Austin Nippy (sporty 2 seat version of the Austin 7) for £130.
Following a few weeks of leave at home, Frank was sent for recuperation to Sunninghill Park (eventually to become the home of Prince Andrew after his marriage to Sarah Ferguson). He drove down from Durham in his new car although petrol rationing made that a bit of a trial. He stopped at a country garage which appeared to be run by an American who asked how much “gas” he wanted. When Frank showed him his paltry petrol coupons he laughed and gave him a couple of Jerry cans of “gas” and sent him on his way.
AT Sunninghill Park he was able to further develop carpentry and metalworking skills he had learned as a POW. This huge country mansion also had a lake and Frank managed to convince the owners that a couple of sailing dinghies would help some of the guests in their recuperation. This allowed him to develop a lifelong interest in sailing and brought him into contact with the WRNS young lady who was soon to become his wife. Ironically, their daughter eventually married a double Olympic Sailing Gold medallist whose father had helped to sink the Bismark in a Swordfish.
So, a brutal World War took a young Frank, from his safe life as a trainee surveyor in his father’s business, through the physical and emotional maelstrom of fighting the enemy, to be deprived of his freedom and live by his wits, to eventually settle happily with his family on the South Coast as a loved and respected teacher of metalwork and carpentry in the local secondary school.
While I was interviewing Frank for his story, it was typical of the man that he kept telling me that his wife, sadly no longer with us, had a story as a WRNS officer which would have been much more interesting than his. At one stage she was a driver for the top brass engaged in the D Day landings. On one trip through the New Forest with a VSO she was so desperate to go to the loo, she stopped the car, made an embarrassed apology and shot off into the trees. She raced back to the car, mumbled her apologies again and drove off. A few minutes later she became aware that her passenger was not with her. Apparently he had taken the opportunity to get out and relieve himself as well.
Footnote:
I intend to give frank a hard copy of this story along with relevant posts which have followed.