The Pleasure steamers, filled with happy tourists, today pull away from the pier at Kleipeda (formerly Memel) on the east Baltic Coast. Excitement is high and anticipation of an interesting and relaxing trip on the Baltic is common among the passengers.
How different the cruise on board the collier S. S. Insterburg in July, 1944. Russian armour had broken through the German lines south-west of Leningrad and was hurrying through Estonia toward Lithuania. Stalag Luft 6, a Luftwaffe prison camp for Allied aircrew, lay directly in the path of the Russian advance. German authorities decided to evacuate the camp.
Stalag Luft 6 housed thousands of Allied airmen in three compounds and an administration center or Vorlager. The camp doctors, hospital workers, patients, and Red Cross workers made up the personnel of the Vorlager.
The 14 July 1944 was a lovely summer day which was soon spoiled by orders from the German Kommandatur to prepare to move out. The prisoners in K Lager and the Vorlager were to leave ahead of those of A and E Lagers.
Shortly after noon the prisoners hoisted their homemade packs and urged on by shouts of "Raus" they shambled off to a railroad siding to be loaded into boxcars, the famous "40 Hommes & Chevaux" of World War One. A short journey brought them to the port of Memel.
Convinced by shouting, gesticulating guards the airmen climbed aboard the collier S. S. Insterburg, a most unprepossessing rusty old tramp that had piled the Baltic for many a long year. When the men reached the head of the gangplank they saw the prisoners ahead of them disappearing down a hatchway. Some, in the confusion, managed, in spite of the security, to slip away and hide among the deck cargo. However, it was only temporary as bayonets soon rousted them out and convinced them to join the others. A steel ladder led down to the coal bunkers thirty feet below. The bunkers were cold, dark and damp and a terrible smell of old bilge poisoned the air. As they arrived at the bottom the men arrange themselves on the steel plates but it soon became crowded. Shouts of "no more men, it's too crowded" were ignored as more and more men were forced down until every inch of space was occupied. Some even climbed up onto the propeller shaft housing. More men continued to descend and for them accomodations was made by each man sitting between another man's legs. There was no room to lie down. Sanitary arrangements consisted of a bucket. If the bucket was full some were allowed on deck one at a time to relieve themselves in the souppers. At the hatch armed guards with Schmeissers and steam hoses watched over the wretches below.
After the first night men began to get sick with the foul odor and since there was no spare room they simply vomited over themselves and their companions. Conditions such as this tend to draw men together and it was a touching sight to see a dirty, unshaven sergeant wiping the face of a vomit-covered airman, or holding his head while his stomach heaved. Throughout the long days and nights each tried to bolster the others.
Rumors of a mutiny to take over the ship and sail it to Sweden were soon squelched by saner heads who had noticed, when on deck, that the Insterburg was accompanied by a torpedo boat. A detailed description of the E boat by one of the fortunates who had seen it was listened to eagerly as many had never seen a torpedo boat.
Each man tried to stifle, thought of Russian sumaries as the ship made her way down the coast of the Gulf of Danzig past the Frische Nehrung, north to round the cape at the head of the gulf and then due west. While the Interburg drove forward at a steady seven or eight knots the main drive shaft made a noticeable thump-thump which was perfectly audible for miles and could be heard by any submarine in the vicinity. Some of the airmen had been members of aircraft which had sowed mines in the Baltic and pictures of the ugly horns on the mines haunted their imaginations. Each noise transmitted through the plates made them wonder if a mine was scaping the hull.
After three long days and nights the Insterburg approached the harbour at Swinemunde. Egged on by the familiar "Raus, Raus" of the guards the prisoners climbed the ladder to fresh air and sunshine. They savoured these as they moved off the ship and over to a long line of "Side-Door Pullmans." These rail cars had been altered somewhat and were divided in half at the doors by a wire mesh. One side of the car held fifty to sixty "Hommes" and the other half held one lone guard armed with an automatic weapon.
The men's boots were taken and they climbed into the half car set aside for their exclusive use. Again it was very crowded but the men had learned to cope. Just as loading was completed the air raid sirens started their high-pitched ululations and the guards wisely scrambled out of the cars and looked for a hiding place. Batteries of anti-aircraft guns set up a dreadful noise just behind the rail yards. As each battery fired the freight car would give a little jump. None of this contributed to the prisoner's peace of mind as the guards thoughtfully locked the cars before seeking shelter. Over the sound of the anti-aircraft guns, the shell bursts, the continued wailing of the sirens and the beat of the aircraft engines could be heard the rising scream of falling bombs to be followed shortly by the explosions. Fortunately, the raid seemed to be a small diversionary by the United States Airforce and the dock area was not hit. The raid hastened the final loading, the guards climbed aboard, the doors were shut, the locomotives hooked on and jerking and lurching the train moved out.
All the prisoners wondered "Where to now?" The future looked black and uncertain.
The train made its way slowly east and south from Swinemunde and some twenty four hours of travel brought it to its destination at an obscure siding. Amid much shouting by the guards and barking and snarling by the guard dogs the airmen vacated the freight cars, found their boots in the big pile on the ground and then were hurried toward the little station of Kiefheide. A vague uneasiness gripped the men when the volume of shouting and barking rose to new heights. When they turned the corner around the station their worst fears were realized. Commanded and egged-on by a seeming madman the guards urged the prisoners into a shambling run up a hill through a forest. As the guards became more excited they resorted to bayonet stabs, rifle butts and dog bites to increase the pace. Packs were discarded as the run quickened. Men began to fall by the wayside where they were beaten or bayoneted as they lay. The dogs, excited by their handlers, ripped and tore at the exhausted airmen.
Many acts of courage were enacted in the midst of the confusion. All along the route men shouted encouragement to each other and warnings against attempts to bolt into the woods to escape. Some had noticed machine gunners stationed in the woods on either side of the road. They were just waiting to cut down any would-be escapers. Exhausted men were assisted by others more fit. The stronger of the prisoners moved to the outside of the column in order to protect the injured and weaker men in the center.
Finally, after an uphill run of some three kilometres the weary men arrived at a field outside the barbed wire of a prison camp. Many had thought they were being run up the hill to their death and were relieved to find a camp at the top of the hill.
As the men lay exhausted on the grass the medical officer moved among them to treat the bayonet wounds and dog bites. The Padre also comforted the wounded. Neither food, water or medication was forthcoming and that night the men slept where they fell.
The following day several tents and drinking water but no rations were supplied. On the third day the men were to enter the camp but this was not the end of their trials. To enter the camp they had to run in single file throught a gaunlet of twenty young Kriegsmarine who bayoneted them or beat them with rifle butts as they ran through the gate. Once inside the gate a vigorous strip search of each individual was accompanied by beatings and confiscation of all personal belongings. Most of their clothing was also taken and many arrived in the main camp wearing only a shirt or a pair of drawers. Finally they received a bowl of watery soup, their first meal since leaving Swinemude.
The large huts in the compound were occupied by American airmen who told them that this was a new camp designated Stalag Luft 4 and that it was a Strafe Lager or Punishment camp for Terrorfliegers.
The passing of forty years has not dimmed the memory of the cruise on the Baltic and the stroll through the woods.
JOY OF THE BALTIC CRUISE
by Gordon W. Clubb
POW# 875
November 7, 1942. Sgt. Clubb the wireless air gunner and 3 other crew members beached the HAMPDEN Torpedo Bomber at the Bay of Biscay. Their target-Blockade Runner, but German flak put their aircraft, "out of operations". A half hour after beaching they were captured and the next 3 years as prisoners of war in Stalag Luft I, VI and IV.
Gordon was one of the many P.O.W.'s who had the day of the BALTIC CRUISE, the run up the road, and several trips in box cars, dysentery, lack of food, etc. Our arrival at dockside in Stettin from Luft VI was another box car experience. At high noon your people dropped their loads. Our area was covered with smoke screen, then heavy guns a short distance away from our private cars opened up. One of my fellow travelers was looking through a slight opening in the side of the box car, he invited me to take a look through the opening, a few hundred yards away, was one light cruiser or a pocket battleship. There were no direct hits. I was very glad to hear the all clear.
Another night while sleeping in a barn, we were awakened by low flying aircraft. The pilot left but then started his return, the engine noise became louder and stronger, then cannon fire and guns, a pull up out of his dive and lone bomb. Of the three barns we were the only ones who caught random bullets. A fire broke out in the thatched roof. A minor panic started by the guards unlocked the barn doors and motioned us at gun point to come out. Fortunately only one P.O.W. was killed!! Considering the number of P.O.W.'s in the barn it was quite a miracle. My Klim tin had a nice bullet hole through it. Luckily the Klim can was a foot over my head hangining on a nail. All in all we were most fortunate in most respects.
