THE JOHN LENBURG STORY

I was a flight engineer - top turret gunner on a B-24 named Miss Fortune. I was in the 460th Bomb Grp., 760th Bomb Sqdrn, 15th Air Force based in Spinazzola, Italy.

Blechammer Mission - June 30, 1944

It was Friday and our crew was scheduled to fly and the mission was Blechammer South Oil Refinery up by Poland. This would be my 36th mission. Our group was to lead a force of 600 planes of 15th Air Force on this mission. We were to fly number two position in the high box of the lead attack unit. We were to pick up P-38s as escorts but because of bad weather this never happened.

As we approached the southern Hungary the weather turned bad. There was a high dense overcast with high clouds. This condition cut our visibility down to almost zero. Because of this condition the mission was aborted. In turning back we lost visual contact with the other planes in our attack unit but were able to keep visual contact with the planes of our box.

As we came out of the overcast-35 - 40 German ME-210 fighter planes attacked our box. They attacked in waves of four abreast raking our plane with 20mm cannon fire. My turret took a hit from a 20mm knocking me out. The plane was set on fire. The heat from the fire was being sucked up into my turret. This revived me. Suddenly, I had a sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach that we were going down.

GOING DOWN

We still had a pretty good load of gasoline and a full load of 500-pound bombs. I had seen other planes in this situation, blow up, with no one getting out. It was at this point that I felt I was going to die and asked "God" to save me. I reached under the seat and pulled the seat release, which allowed me to drop out of the turret to the flight deck. I then realized how badly our plane was damaged and a fire was raging on the flight deck. The pilot looked around and motioned for me to get out. The pilot had told the co-pilot to ring the bail out bell but the noise was so deafening that I couldn't hear it. They were trying to keep the plane in a level flight and avoid going into a spin. If the plane would go into a spin, none of us would be able to get out. The centrifugal force of a spinning plane could hold us in.

I pulled my flak suit release, it fell off and at the same time I pulled my flack helmet off. The fire on the flight deck was by the gas gauges on the rear bulkhead. My parachute was usually stashed in this area. I reached for my chute pack, snapped it on, and headed for the bomb bay. In doing so, I burned my right hand reaching into the fire to retrieve my chute. Then the back of my jacket caught on fire from the intense heat. The forward bomb bay doors were open and four bombs had been jettisoned. The rear bomb bay still held its 4 bombs.

Our bombardier was already on the catwalk in a crouched position in front of me but he seemed to be hesitating to jump out. I put my feet were right on his shoulders. We still had a partial load of bombs and I could still envision the plane blowing up since it was burning so badly. By now my jacket was burning pretty good as I was waiting for Mike to jump. I guess at that point, I gave Mike a little nudge. Mike went out and I right after him. As soon as I hit the slipstream, my jacket fire was quickly extinguished. I did not open my parachute right away since I thought we were at a much higher altitude, not realizing we had dropped down to about 12,000 feet. I started counting slowly in order to delay opening my parachute. I think, I got up to about fifteen when I decided to pull the ripcord. It was a good thing that I didn't delay my chute opening any longer since we had dropped down to the lower altitude.

I was tumbling slowly through the air as I was falling to earth. When I reached for the ripcord handle with my right hand, I found it wasn't there. In my haste, I had snapped the parachute on backwards and the handle was on the left side instead of the right. Luckily, I found it and pulled it with my left hand. By then I was falling headfirst and it was a welcome sight when the chute flew past my face and opened up. I was suddenly jerked into an upright position and my descent was slowed considerably. After leaving the deafening noise in the plane, suddenly everything was quiet.

As I was floating down, I began to realize the full extent of my injuries. My forehead and right hand were burned and my right jaw was split open. I had pieces of 20-mm in my face that were about the size of shotgun pellets. I was told this later by a Hungarian doctor. He kept pointing at them and saying "husz millimeter" (Hungarian for 20). The largest piece was stuck in the corner of my left eye. Luckily for me, it must have been pretty well spent when it hit me, since it was stuck in the right corner of my left eye by my nose. Another piece went through the left corner of my mouth and another through the right corner.

I suddenly realized I had a new problem. If I continued descending like I was, I would in all probability land in the water. I knew that I had bailed out over southern Hungary but did not realize that we were right over Lake Balaton. I had my "Mae West" on but it was always worn under my parachute harness. It can be quite a trick getting out of a parachute harness along with a wet parachute in the water. With a wet chute and its shrouds on top of me besides heavy wet clothes, there was a good chance that you could drown before getting out of the parachute and inflating my "Mae West." I kept spilling the air out of my chute by yanking on one of the shroud lines. By doing this, it helped change the direction of my descent so that the slight wind started carrying my chute more towards the shore. It looked like I was finally going to make land.

POW

As I got closer to earth, another obstacle appeared. I was going to land in a vineyard on the side of a hill. The vineyard was full of poles stuck in an upright position supporting the grapevines. I was going to have to try and negotiate myself between them. If I couldn't, then they could impale me. I did manage to slip in between the rows of poles. After hitting the ground I began to slowly get up, two Hungarian soldiers ran up to me and with their rifles pointed at me, yelling, "Pistola, Pistola." I indicated to them that I did not have a gun. As the soldiers started helping me gather up my parachute, some of the local peasants came running up and started gathering around me. They had clubs, rakes, pitchforks and scythes. They began shouting at me while shaking their fists and waving their clubs. One of the peasants had an old blunderbuss gun. This gun has a barrel that looks like a funnel on the end. Some of peasants tried to spit on me and hit me with their sticks. Then all of a sudden, the one peasant with a pitchfork made a lunge at me. One of the Hungarian soldiers threw the butt of his rifle up and deflected the pitchfork. If the soldier hadn't have done this I probably wouldn't be writing about this episode. The other Hungarian soldier started scolding the people; after which they backed off but followed us, shouting and shaking their clubs and fists at me all the way down through the vineyard to a road. Here the soldiers put me into a car. At this point I think that I starting to go into shock. I started shaking and felt like I was going to pass out. My right jaw was killing me since it was split open. My face was bleeding and hurting from the facial wounds and burns. I could hardly open my mouth.

The soldiers drove me to a small village where I was brought before several German officers seated at a large table in what appeared to be the town square. One of the officers asked me my name and what outfit I was with. I told him my name, rank and serial number. That was all that I was required to give him under the * "Geneva Conventions Agreement." One of the German officers said, "Vor you, da vor is ofer." He was wrong; the toughest part was just beginning.

Eventually, I was taken to the small town of Tapolca and put into a small hospital run by Catholic nuns. My burns and facial wounds were treated. The next day Saturday, July 1, a group of us were escorted to the train station by some armed Hungarian soldiers and put on a passenger train to Budapest.

HUNGARIAN MILITARY HOSPITAL No. 11

We arrived in Budapest in the early evening at the bombed-out train station. It had suffered some damage due to the allied air raids. There was a glass-domed skylight over where the trains pulled into the station. Most of it was missing. Some of the metal structure that held the skylight was twisted and had fallen down. Budapest had been bombed by the 15th Air Force the day of our arrival. There seemed to be some confusion as to what to do with us; so, we were taken to the Budapest City jail. There, I was put into a cell with a Hungarian national. The cell had two beds and was illuminated by one small light bulb hanging down from the center of the cell. This was to be left on all night. My cellmate was able to speak a little English. He told me that the R.A.F. was going to bomb Budapest that night. Sure enough, the air raid sirens went off with their loud wailing sound.

The thunder of the exploding bombs and the anti aircraft-guns firing kept me up most of the night. The next day Sunday, July 2nd, we were to be taken to the Hungarian Royal Military Hospital No.11 in Budapest. That was delayed because the 15 Air Force came over and bombed targets in Budapest again. So, it rained bombs most of the day and the ground shook and shook. My roommate and I spent more time under the bed again while the waves of planes passed overhead dropping their bombs.

Late afternoon the all-clear siren sounded. Then the Hungarian authorities moved us to a hospital. We arrived at the hospital in the late afternoon. As we entered the hospital, it was quite obvious that everything was in a state of confusion. People seemed to be running around. Many of the bomb victims were arriving and this resulted in chaos. We encountered some of the civilians; they tried to spit on us and shook their fists. We were taken into a large room, which appeared to be emergency room, where a doctor checked us. They weren't too happy with us being there, after undergoing several days of day and night bombing by the Allies. It seemed like they thought we were some of the flyers shot down over Budapest.

The doctor had us take our shirts off as he prepared to give us each a shot. When I saw where he was going to give it, I thought that this was the end. In fact, I think all of us thought that. Mike Brown loudly objected but the doctor gave him the shot, in the chest just above the heart. It turned out to be a tetanus shot. He looked at my facial burns and wounds. He took a swab of cotton with alcohol and stuck it into my face. At that point I think that I let out a yell but he just smiled. It took quite awhile before the piercing pain subsided. Later, a nurse put some ointment on some of the burns and wounds. She took tweezers and removed some of the 20-mm fragments from my face. Some were left since they were in deeper. Through the years, almost all of the pieces have worked their way out. I still have a few very small pieces in my neck and one in my finger on my right hand. During my 10-day stay at the hospital Budapest went through another air raid.

PESTVIDEKI PRISON

On Tuesday, July 11, 1944, we were informed the beds were needed by the hospital for more injured prisoners and we were going to be sent to another facility to complete our rehabilitation. This turned out to be a big joke on us. They loaded us in a bus that was powered by steam with a charcoal-fueled boiler on the back end. We rode across town to the part called Pesti. During the ride, I noticed the Star of David and the word "Jude" painted in white on various shop windows. Some of the people that we saw walking around also had a yellow Star of David sewn on the left side of their clothes over their heart. As the bus turned down one of the streets, we passed a brewery. It was along some railroad tracks. The bus then pulled up to a large metal door that was the entrance into a large Grey walled area that looked like a prison. This was to be our so-called "rest camp" for us to continue our recovery, the Pestvideki Prison. This was the same prison the Communists would hold Cardinal Josef Mindszenty, a Hungarian Catholic Cardinal, after the war?

The first thing I noticed upon entering were people walking around in a courtyard inside the walled area wearing light tan gunny sack clothes with a yellow Star of David on the left side of their breast. At that point I had a good idea where we were. My worst fear was that they had taken us to a concentration camp.

We were unloaded and taken to a building and told to take our clothes off because they were going to give us a shower. I had also heard news accounts about some of these so-called showers that the Germans gave. I think we all thought that this was it. My heart started pounding. As it turned out, it was a shower. We were then taken into this large building that appeared to be the prison. We went up a metal ladder to the second floor where they put myself, the bombardier, our co-pilot and another American airman into a cell. The cell was about eight feet wide by twelve feet long with a large metal door with a peephole and on the outside wall small transom-type window. It was possible to see the prison clock tower from our window. The cell contained a single metal bed frame with a mattress, a table, and a large pail for a toilet.

There was only one metal cot for the four of us to sleep on. We drew straws to see who would sleep on the bed. So one of us slept on the cot's metal springs and another on a straw mattress on the floor. The other two slept on the wooden floor. We were taken outside once a day where we were allowed to walk around in a circle for exercise.

The food consisted of a piece of bread and a thin cup of soup, three times a day. Our meals were served in small aluminum pots, which held a little over a half-pint of watery soup. Sometimes, it was hard to tell what the soup was made of, but it was possible to recognize peas (due to the color), cabbage, and kohlrabi soups. Each morning, we were given chunk of dark bread about the size of half a grapefruit. Prisoners would scratch their names, dates and messages on the aluminum bowls. By doing this it was possible to tell how long some had been in the prison. The longest time that anyone had marked on a bowl was 108 days and he wrote that he was going crazy. Bedtime was as soon as the sun went down since there was no electric lights in the cell. There were times when you heard guys screaming. We had been put into a prison with criminals, political prisoners, and Jewish prisoners. It was not just for POWs.

Our cell was infested with bed bugs. At night they would crawl out the cracks in the wooden floor and bite us. Since I slept on the floor, I would pull my socks up over my pants, turn my shirt collar up and put my hands under my folded arms. I would prop myself up in a sitting position by leaning against the wall to go to sleep. We would put our wash basin on the floor at night, half filled with water, the bugs would crawl into the water in the darkness; then we would kill them in the morning. I don't know how they ever climbed up the sides of the basin. We started keeping track of the days by making scratch marks on the wall.

On July 14, the 15th Air Force bombed Budapest. At about 11 A.M., the air raid sirens went off and the anti-aircraft batteries begin firing. After a few minutes, we heard the slow drone of hundreds of aircraft. Next came the rain of bombs with their loud whooshing sound. I think that we all felt the whole prison was going up, with us in it. All four of us crowded next to the thick iron door away from the window, hoping that no stray bombs would come our way. Even the door vibrated at times from the explosions. It sounded like it was hailing outside, from the falling fragments of the exploding anti-aircraft shells hitting the prison's metal roof. Then there was a violent explosion and everything shook. I thought the prison had been hit but no the brewery across the street was hit. I think we almost could have gotten drunk from the smell. The beer smell lingered for several days. According to the U.S. news reports that I found after the war for that day, the 15th Air Force were supposed to have bombed oil refineries and the railroad yards in Budapest.

During my second week in prison, I started getting a boil on the right side of the back of my neck. Our nurse/doctor checked it on one of her visits but didn't treat it with anything. This boil was to become quite a problem for me later.

INTERROGATION

On July 22, 1944, the Germans started taking us one, at a time, for interrogation. A Hungarian soldier came to the cell and took me down to the room where I was to be interrogated. We walked into this room and stopped. There was a German soldier standing by a table and a German officer seated behind the same table. The German officer turned and said something in German to the German soldier standing near the table. He in turn spoke in Hungarian to the soldier that brought me in. The Hungarian soldier brought me over to a chair in front of the table. The officer told me to sit down and offered me a cigarette, which I refused since I didn't smoke. A Hungarian soldier stood behind me. The German officer turned and said something in German to the soldier who had been standing next to the table. After this the German soldier left the room.

The officer's first question to me in perfect English was what my name, rank and serial number were. I told him. His second question was what outfit I was with. I answered that under the "Geneva Conventions" I was only required to give him my name rank and serial number. He went on to ask me the serial number of our plane and what our mission was for June 30th. I repeated the same answer to him. He asked me if I would like to spend some more time here in the prison, to which I replied, "No.". He asked me again what my outfit was. I gave him the same reply. Now he appeared agitated and started to get angry since I wasn't answering his questions with the answers that he wanted. I had the presence of mind to answer him as I had been instructed in training back in the states. He went through all of his questions again, but I still gave him the same answers. Finally, his face got red and he hit the table with his fist and said that he was going to put me back in my cell. He turned to the Hungarian soldier that brought me in and shouted to him in German to take me back to the "gefangenen zelle" (prison cell). Then he looked at me. I guess he was waiting for me to start talking, but I didn't say anything. The Hungarian soldier didn't make a move. At that moment, the other German soldier returned to the room and he told him in German to take me to the "traensport raum."

RIDING 40 & 8 STYLE

I was put into a room that had other Americans in it. After a long wait, about ten of us were loaded into the back of a military truck. We had four German guards carrying machine pistols. One of the guards was apparently in charge. He ordered the canvas flap covering the back of the truck to be closed. We were taken to the train station and loaded onto a boxcar. We were put us on one end of the car while the guards stayed on the other end. We were told not to cross the middle of the car or go to the open doors of the boxcar or we would be shot. When the train made periodic stops, German women would bring buckets of soup and this was given to the guards and us.

We arrived in the Vienna marshalling yards in the early evening. It appeared that there was quite a bit of damage to the marshalling yards from allied air raids. There was a lot of activity going on and they had repair crews repairing the damaged rail lines. By now the boil on the back of my neck was getting larger and it was making my life miserable. Our boxcar was put on a siding where it was eventually attached to another train.

Early Sunday evening, July 23, our train pulled into the rail yards of Breslau, Germany. The guards took all of us out of the boxcar and walked us into the train station. We were taken to a soup kitchen that was used to feed German troops that were passing through the station. One of the guards took me to a German first aid station, where they attended to the boil on the back of my neck. They put a black salve (a drawing salve) on it and wrapped it with a paper bandage. By now, my head was starting to pound and I couldn't lay down and sleep at night. The only fairly comfortable position to try and sleep was to prop myself up in a sitting position by leaning against the side of the boxcar.

We were taken to a different train and loaded into another boxcar. None of us had any idea where we were going other than to a POW camp somewhere in Germany. The next morning we pulled into Posen, Poland. Here we changed trains again and I was taken to a first aid station, where a nurse checked the boil on the back of my neck. She put some more black salve on it and rewrapped it. I still wasn't getting much relief from the throbbing pain in my head.

STALAG LUFT IV

When we arrived at the rail station of Gross Tychow, we were taken off the train. The guards walked us down a small dirt road about two miles to the POW camp, Stalag Luft IV. It was late Tuesday afternoon, July 25, 1944. Stalag Luft IV was situated about two and a half miles west of Gross Tychow, in the Pomerania sector of Germany. If you drew a straight line west, it would be about even with the southern end of Hudson Bay in Canada.

The camp was set in a forest clearing about one and a half miles square. This particular forest was chosen because of its dense foliage and thick underbrush, which served as an added barrier against escape. There were two barbed wire fences ten feet high completely surrounding the camp. It was said that the outer fence was electrically charged. Between the two fences was another fence of rolled barbed wire four feet high. An area 200-feet deep from the fence to the edge of the forest was left clear. This made it necessary for anyone trying to escape to cross this area in full view of the guards. Twenty feet inside the wire fences was a warning rail that ran parallel with the Barbed wire fence. A prisoner could expect to be shot first if he touched or stepped across this rail. Watch towers were built at close intervals around the camp. These towers were equipped with powerful spotlights and machine guns. The barracks were built off the ground, which was open, so the guards would have a clear view.

The camp was run by German officers who hated American or British airmen. This prison camp was opened in April 1944 with the transfer of 2,500 POWs from Stalag Luft VI, known as Heydekrug in East Prussia. Most of these prisoners were Americans except for about 500 non-commissioned British R.A.F. officers. At the time that I arrived, only lagers "A" and "B" were being used. Lager "C" and "D" were still under construction but just about finished.

KRIEGIE 6410

We were taken to a building outside of the barbed wire enclosure that was called the Vorlager. Here we were given the dos and don'ts of the camp, and mug shots were taken. I became Kreigesgefagenen number 6410. Most of the regulations were don'ts or you would be shot.

Here I met two of the German guards who had a part in the "Run". They were Oberfeldwebel Fahnert ("Iron Cross") and Feldwebel Schmidt ("Big Stoop"). They would physically abuse prisoners, as I saw in one case. "Big Stoop" picked up one of the POWs and tossed him over a partitioned wall. He also liked to cuff a prisoner on the ear with his open hand using a sideways movement. This would cause pressure on the eardrums, which would cause it to puncture. I tried to avoid them as much as possible. Oberfeldwebel Fahnert was nicknamed "Iron Cross" because he always wore the German Iron Cross medal around his neck. Feldwebel Schmidt was called "Big Stoop" because he was about 6' 7" tall and had very large hands and had a mean look about him.

I was put in Lager "A" temporarily, since the other lagers were not completed. Some of the British POWs were housed in tents since the barracks were full. So I was put in with them. It was from these POWs that I was told about the "Run".

LIFE IN KRIEGIELAND

On September 27, along with other American POWs were moved to Lager "C" and the British to Lager "D". I was put in Barracks 1, Room 3. Every barracks had 12 rooms and a latrine. Each room was about 14' x 16' and had eight triple-decked bunk beds, with shredded wood mattresses supported by four bed slats. There were 24 men in each room. We had a little table and a small pot-bellied stove. During the winter each room was given twelve peat bricks a day for fuel. You had to dress warm.

After the move to the new lager, Kreigie life settled down to the daily routines. Hauptman Weinert was the German officer in charge of our lager. He was a repatriated pilot who had shattered his leg in an airplane crash. Weinert walked with a slight limp, spoke English, wore a long blue leather coat and black boots and demanded a salute from the POWs and guards. He did not use the stiff-armed Nazi salute but what we called the soft Nazi salute-just raising up his right arm. He always carried what looked like a riding crop clutched tightly in his left hand that he held behind his back. He stood very erect and had all of the appearances of a Prussian officer.

We had two meals a day from our kitchen, two roll calls a day and that was about it. Occasionally the Germans would have a lock out, when they would go through the barracks looking for contraband. For recreation we played baseball, football, walking, read books, played cards, checkers, chess, and etc.

Occasionally we would get Red Cross food parcels to help supplement our diet. I guess the guards; camp commandant and a few other people were stealing the parcels. For breakfast we were given hot water or ersatz coffee (this was made from barley). Anything else that we ate would have to come from our Red Cross parcels. Lunch or dinner could be soybean soup, sauerkraut, boiled potatoes, or some other kind of soup. Occasionally you might find a little horsemeat in the soup. This was about our only source of protein outside of our Red Cross parcels. We also received a ration of 8 loaves of German black bread every week per room. This broke down to a 1/3 of a loaf per man. It was of a rather heavy texture, dark brown in color, and made from a mixture of wheat hulls and wood pulp that had been chemically broken down. When cutting a piece of the bread to eat, you would slice it very thin.

We were allowed to walk around our compound or lager, as long as we didn't cross the warning rail. The guards in the towers made sure of that. At night we were locked in our barracks at sundown. The guards would shut the front and back door and put a bar across the outside so it couldn't be opened from the inside. Each room had a double window that would swing out to open. The windows were shuttered and barred from the outside at night. Our barracks were built up off the ground so it was impossible to dig a tunnel without being seen. At night, guards with dogs walked the compound, and the tower guards probed the grounds with their spotlights. There was a small transom above each of the doors that we could leave open at night to let air in. Of course, the Jerries tried to build this prison escape proof after the problems they had with escapes from Stalag Lufts III and VI. Stalag Luft III was the camp that the great escape was made from.

Life became pretty boring at night. All everyone talked about was food and what he was going to do when he got out of the service. We had the saying: "You could plan all day and dream all night long, but in the morning you still woke up in the same place." The days, weeks and months seemed to drag by.

On September 20, 1944 a FW 190 crashed in a wooded area near the camp. Three FW-190s would practice dog fighting over our camp. This day the sky had a low overcast and we could hear them practicing dog fighting above this. Suddenly one dove down through the overcast and leveled off at treetop level. The second one followed, right behind the first. Then the third one descended, but he didn't level off in time. He dove right into the ground, causing a big explosion. All of us Kriegies stood around and cheered. This upset the guards in the tower and they started firing their machine guns into the compound. We all hit the deck after which we were warned to knock off the cheering.

The Jerries conducted search after search looking for contraband or our secret radio that was hidden somewhere in our camp. This radio had been smuggled down from Stalag VI by some of the POWs. BBC would broadcast news reports at certain times of the day that were just for POWs. A runner would carry the news from barracks to barracks. While the runner was giving us the news, we posted guards to be on the look out for any Jerry guards. I'm sure that this drove the Jerries crazy looking for the radio which they never found. Once a week we were given a German newspaper called "Allgemeine Zeitung".

Occasionally the guards would test fire their machine guns in the guard towers. When this was done they would empty the barracks of all of the Kriegies. They would herd us all over to the side of the compound under the guns they were testing. Then they would start firing their guns. Several times we found bullet holes in the barracks.

Lt. Col. Bombach was the commandant of the camp. Hauptman (Capt.) Pickhardt was one his assistants, who was in charge of the guards and security. They, along with some of their henchmen, had mutual contempt for American airmen and the Geneva Conventions. Bombach spoke English, was a Nazi Party man, and had been a pre-war agent in France. Pickhardt was a fanatical Nazi, who was in charge of the "Run," and would physically abuse POWs. He was known as the "Mad Captain" or "Butcher of Berlin." Richard Chapman, our camp leader, protested the continued abuse of newly arriving prisoners but to no avail.

CHRISTMAS 1944

Four days before Christmas, at about 1 AM in the morning, the air sirens went off making a loud wailing noise. The RAF was over Stettin. The explosions kept us up most of the night even though it was thirty miles away. Everyone watched what activity that was visible through a window above the doorway. We were told anyone would be shot if caught looking out the window during an air raid if we did this again. Christmas, 1944 was certainly different from any that I had ever experienced before.

According to our news reports, the ground war was going well and the air war over Europe was really in full swing. Maybe liberation was not far away. We could tell downed airmen were pouring into the prison camp by the droves. They also brought the latest news reports. The number of POWs had climbed from 3,000 when I entered the camp to almost 10,000 by the end of January 1945. The Jerries were working feverishly building Lagers "E" and "F."

The weather had turned bitter cold with temperatures below zero with ice and snow. There were 24 guys huddled in our little rooms with our little pot-bellied stove trying to keep warm. The Germans issued us 2 each blankets made of horsehair.

On Christmas Eve we were permitted to walk around the compound after dark. We were on parole so to speak and had to promise no escape attempts would be made. We were able to visit with other POWs in other barracks in our compound or other lagers until 1 AM. Our kitchen personnel had been saving pieces of beef for some time and made everyone in our compound small hamburger patties. They were great, although we all thought that it was horsemeat. We savored every morsel.

Groups of Kriegies walked around the compound singing Christmas carols. The guards went around wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. We had no roll call Monday Christmas day. Tuesday December 26th everything was back to normal.

- 1945 -

THE LONG WALK, (DEATH MARCH)

In early January 1945, the Russians had started their winter offensive from Warsaw, Poland. The German High Command issued orders to evacuate our camp. Stalag Luft IV was northwest of Warsaw.The Russian breakout initiated the evacuation of Luft IV. By February 3, 1945, the front lines were 40 miles south of Luft IV and extended to the Oder River; the only route left for our evacuation was northwest through a narrow 50-mile gap to Swinemunde, near the Baltic Sea. If the Russians kept advancing as they were, our camp would be right in their path. Maybe the war would be over soon. Little did we realize at that time the hardships that we would be forced to endure before the war ended. The weather here had been very cold with quite a few heavy snowfalls.

On January 15, 1945, the 3,000 sick and crippled POWs were loaded into box cars to be shipped to various POW camps in Germany. On February 5, the rest of the camp was put on notice. The Germans told us that they were evacuating us to a safer camp, which was to be a 3 or 4 day march.

Preparation for the march -- was to make bedrolls, knapsacks, and take "KLIM" cans---and have warm clothing. It was not uncommon to see small groups and individuals walking a fast pace around the compound. This was to try and condition themselves for the rigors of marching. Our inactivity in camp had left us in poor physical shape. So we had a lot of catching up to do.

We would need a utensil for drinking, for cooking and one for eating. These utensils had to be light, easy to pack, unbreakable, and able to withstand minimal cleaning. This is where the "KLIM" can came in. The "KLIM" can was milk spelled backwards and came in our Red Cross food parcels. It contained powdered milk. It was approximately four inches in diameter and about three inches deep.

Some of us took our blankets and made bedrolls by folding them in half and sewing the bottoms and sides up. We left the tops open. Then we took and pushed one of the sewn blankets into the other. By doing this we made a bed that could be crawled into. Next I took extra shoestrings and tied them together. Then I rolled up my blankets with what food and personal belongings I had, which wasn't much. Using shoestrings, I made a sling by tying an end to each end of the rolled up bedroll. We also used shirts to make knapsacks to help carry some of our meager belongings by tying the sleeves together, plus sewing up the bottom.

At about 10 A.M. on February 6, the guards entered our compound blowing their whistles and yelling the familiar "Raus" "Raus." We were ordered outside for roll call, and made to line up with whatever meager belongings we could carry. The Jerries had us turn and start walking out the main gate in a line of four abreast. As we moved out of the camp past the Vorlager, each POW was given a full Red Cross parcel and a third of a loaf of bread. This was the first time that any of us had gotten a whole Red Cross parcel, which might have to last us a long time. This marked the beginning of the full evacuation of the remaining 7,000 POWs.

The 2,500 POWs of Lager "C" were the first to move out the gate with our guards carrying rifles, machine pistols and their K-9 corps. Hauptman Weinert was the German officer in charge of our group and Capt. Leslie Caplin, a captured American flight surgeon from the 449th Bomb Grp., was in charge of attending to the sick. We were told by the Germans that we would walk about two weeks and then set up camp at an abandoned sugar factory. Little did any of us realize that this was the beginning of what was to be called the "Black March" or "The Death March of Stalag Luft IV." Some of us would not be around to see its end.

The next 80-plus days that we were on the road, we covered more then 600 miles. During the walk, we froze and became infested with lice, were plagued with dysentery, diphtheria, typhus and pneumonia. We would live in filth, sleep in barns or fields, and dodge aerial strafing. Then we were marched from the eastern front to the western front and then back to the eastern front. For food, we would average 770 calories a day on German rations for the first 53 days of the march. If it had not been for the Red Cross food parcel we occasionally received, many more of us would have perished. These parcels gave us an additional 600 calories a day. They were the only appreciable source of protein for us.

Our daily routine during the march was walking, freezing, and starving. We were awakened at 5:00 A.M. every morning with the familiar "Raus" "Raus." Next came roll call and a breakfast of two or three boiled potatoes, depending on the size, then marching in columns of three or fours to our next destination. We were marched for two hours and then given a five-minute rest period. We were supposed to complete our toilet duties and take a rest in this short period of time. In the freezing weather this was impossible.

The usual procedure at dusk was the separation of the column into small groups and then distribution to whatever barns that were available, with the rest bedding down in the open fields. During the walk, if you fell behind, the guards prodded you with their rifles to keep up with the main column. If you fell behind consistently, a guard would fall behind with you. About five or ten minutes later, the guard would rejoin the column without the POW.

The very seriously sick were put on a horse drawn wagon that followed our marching column. Capt. Leslie Caplin, a captured American flight surgeon, was the doctor in charge of this wagon. By the way this wagon was at times pulled by the POWs. This was a farm wagon that had been used to haul manure. The doctor repeatedly pleaded with Hauptman Weinart to hospitalize the sick and dying but was repeatedly turned down. If a person died, the body was taken off and left behind.

Dysentery was our biggest problem since food and water were very poor. Almost everyone had it. For dysentery, we would burn wood then eat the burnt wood, which was like charcoal. Other problems were body lice, pneumonia, typhus, diphtheria, tuberculous and open foot sores that would not heal. All too soon the straggling became more serious. Blisters became infected, and abscesses developed and had to be opened. Mud and cold brought frostbite and in some cases, gangrene and amputation.

As the days and weeks dragged on, Germany's infrastructure began to collapse to the point the POWs and guards had to forage food. On rest breaks we would filter out in the farm fields and extract kohlrabis from the earthen mounds that housed them. The German farmers stored their crop of kohlrabis in these mounds for the winter. We would eat them raw since everyone was so hungry.

The following is diary that I kept of some of the day's events and places we stayed at:

FREEDOM

During the march each agonizing day was a repeat of the previous day. As the days and weeks stretched into March and April, the weather began to improve. This helped to make life somewhat more bearable. What kept us going was knowing that liberation was not far off but the trick was to survive each day as Germany crumbled around us. As we neared Bitterfeld, advance units of the 104th Division of the U.S. 1st Army met us. I can not describe the elation and exuberance that was shown as we met these men. Our German guards laid down their guns and became POWs. Some of the members of the 104th helped us cross the Mulde River outside of Bitterfeld. A temporary bridge had been constructed since the permanent bridge had been destroyed.

I was now free again. I had survived this great 600-mile ordeal through one of Europe's worst winter in this century, existing on 770 calories a day. I had lost over 60 pounds and weighed in at 105 pounds. This forced march was the longest in American history.

Copyrighted © December 14, 2002 by Angel45_2B

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