Old Comrades
Winter was extremely cold. We were able to exist on our food parcels, sometimes reduced to one parcel each week between two men, and occasional stolen vegetables which we filched from railway wagons broken open when we could get away from the watchful guards. Life was made bearable by the news, frequently received, of the big advances by the Allies in France and by the Russians on the eastern front. We took great delight in jeering at the Germans, guards included, and telling them that they would soon be conquered by our forces.
The calls for "einsatz" became more frequent. Always in the early hours of the morning we were called out to go to the railway marshalling yards of distant cities and towns, there to fill in gaping craters and bomb holes made by our air forces on the previous day or night, and to repair the rail lines. Meantime we carried on our task of building a new railway line on the outskirts of Falkenberg. Later, we were engaged in "coaling-up" railway wagons and engines for the German war machine.
Gradually the war came closer, and we were filled with hope that we would not long remain enforced guests of the Germans. We received frequent news by way of radio (usually given to us by Frenchmen) and from leaflets dropped by our own air forces during bombing missions. In between our work, carried out in shifts throughout the 24 hours, we frequently had to take shelter in nearby woods. On one such occasion, having dug bolt-holes in which to shelter, we suffered the effects of a massive American raid on Falkenberg rail yards. There were about 125 aircraft involved, and the sight and sounds of the hundreds of bombs whistling down, followed by explosions of earthquake proportions, was among the worst minutes of my life.
An hour after the bombers departed, fighter planes arrived to strafe the goods yards, but when we judged it safe to do so, we went into the area to look for food among the railway trucks. Many others had the same idea, and we were mixed up with prisoners of various nationalities and with German civilians. We helped ourselves to a wooden crate of 20 dozen eggs and several large tins of meat.
George, Fred and I stayed hiding in our bolt-hole in the woods when it came time to be escorted back to our barracks, and we were finally on the run once more. We picked up three companions. One was a Yank soldier not known to us before, and another was "Flash" Gordon, a South African who had been in our working camp. When darkness fell we slept the first night among bales of straw in a large barn. Fires were burning in the two goods yards, and everywhere was the stillness of desolation.
At 6a.m. we left the barn and returned to the woods. We had an icy wash under a pump at a farm nearby, and then took a walk to the farther end of the goods yard. 'Planes had returned to circle around the bombed railway, and bombing was in progress not very far off. We successfully passed Kolsa and Rehfeld, and were nearly rounded up when we were discovered by a guard making tea at a deserted house in the woods. However, we got away with it by pretending we were on our way back to our barracks.
We trekked past Rehfeld and went about 2 kms along the railway towards Beilrode. By this time, it had been raining hard for an hour and we were all soaked, especially the Yank who had no greatcoat. Everywhere there was an uncanny silence and we were afraid we should stumble any moment on gun positions or infantry. The rumble of artillery could be heard in the distance. Our friend Fred Grinham surprised me by deciding to go ahead at a faster rate than George could manage, he having twisted his ankle some way back. Pressing on with the Yank and another soldier, Fred quickly disappeared in the distance.
We forced the door of a workers small railway hut and decided to stay the night, as it contained a stove, fuel and a table. George, who had been brooding for a long time, suddenly got to his feet and announced that he was going back. I believe he expected to walk right over to our lines in the first afternoon. He was probably thinking too, of the motherly old ladies he had been comforting after the bombing. So we saw George off, now reducing our party to three.
We ate, made and drank tea, and prepared to settle down on the wooden floor at dusk. It was beautifully warm at first, but during the night I awoke cold and stiff. I was very pleased when dawn broke and we could make a move.Not far away we found evidence of a hasty move by German troops in the woods, in broken branches, tyre tracks and, lying on the ground, a new and almost complete white loaf of bread, which went into our haversack store.
We walked until we were south of Beilrode, at the edge of a wood, and looking west we could see Torgau (a large military training town in Central Germany). We met a Russian who told us that Torgau had not fallen, but our troops were 15-20 kms behind it, and also about 20 kms north of the town at a place called Dommitsch. By this time it was raining once more, so we made our way across the fields to a barn by the side of the railway, and just outside Beilrode. We were lucky. The barn contained straw and outside was a good supply of rainwater. So once again we had tea, fried eggs and meat, after much energetic blowing to keep the embers glowing. We did not have such a good night as we expected as there were large chinks in the walls of the barn and the wind found its way right through the straw to us.
Early on Monday morning we set off again, this time deciding to make for Prettin, 15-20kms north of Torgau, on the River Elbe and directly opposite Dommitsch. On the way we met crowds of refugees with oxcarts, handcarts, bicycles and packs, all on their way to the other side of the Elbe from fear of the advancing Russians (the "Red Army"). During the course of the morning we had a sudden surprise. About to leave the safety of a wooded area to cross a country road, we almost ran into the head of a column of German soldiers who were marching past. Quickly diving into a dry ditch at the side of the road, we watched as all kinds of military passed along. Apart from many marching troops, there were armoured cars, batteries of guns and transport vehicles. It seemed like the whole of the German Army was passing by only a few feet from us. Apart from the clatter of boots and the sounds of the motor vehicles there was not a sound from the men.
We were obliged to stay in our ditch for one and a half hours to watch this procession, which was probably a wholesale retreat but there was no way we could find out, nor did we want to know at that time! I was very glad that there was no water in the ditch.