My time as a prisoner of war began on the 28th May 1944, when serving a tour of duty with II (AC) Sqn, I was flying a Mark 2 Mustang and during the photo-recce mission was shot-down by anti-aircraft fire, bailing-out near Boulogne. I returned to England exactly one year later to the day with a dozen or so other POWs in a Lancaster Bomber. In between my capture and my eventual return to England I spent seven months in the North Compound of Stalag Luft '3' Sagan, Poland, and three months in Stalag 3a, near Berlin.
Earlier in 1944 the news had reached England via the Red Cross in Geneva that the Germans had admitted to shooting fifty allied airmen-officers, while 'attempting to escape'. Little did I think that in a few weeks, I would be in that same camp where the Great Escape had taken place.
Now, some 64 years later, I was to return to the site of the Camp with others who had shared that same experience.
On the 23rd of March 2009 I flew (courtesy of Easy Jet this time!) to Berlin, where I met up with my fellow 'Kriegies' - “Kriegies”, an adaptation from the German for Prisoner of War – “Kriegsgefangener” - and a party of 20 or so RAF personnel of all ranks who had volunteered to accompany us, and during the week to carry out refurbishment of the Memorial Gardens at the Camp Site. We Veterans, as we became known, were 14 in number, the oldest of whom, Alfie Fripp, was 94; Alfie was a accompanied by his grandson.
A two and a half hour road-trip took us to our hotel in Zagan (the spelling has now been changed). It was late by the time we arrived, yet the bar was still open! How different from my arrival the first time round.
In 1944, the big Krupp-built steam engine had hauled the train, bearing ten of us across Europe to this remote spot in the German province of Silesia. To this day I can't remember if we marched the three miles from the rail station or whether we rode in a truck. However, I do remember my first sight of the high double rows of barbed-wire fencing, and the stark outlines of the roofed guard towers that loomed above them. We had passed through the camp gate of Stalag Luft '3' not knowing how long we might be there. Now, all these memories came flooding back the next day when we drove from our hotel to pay the first visit back to the Camp. We were there to commemorate the 65th Anniversary of the Great Escape so our first call was naturally to where the escape tunnel 'Harry', as it was code-named, had emerged above ground and where 76 Kriegies had started their bid for freedom. The spot is marked by a rough-hewn stone with an inscription recording the event. The tunnel itself has long ago caved in but its track, some 320ft long is traced on the surface by a row of granite slabs. By any standards it was a remarkable feat of engineering.
Then our little party toured the rest of the area, although nature has now reclaimed the land: where there was open ground it is now occupied by tall beech, larch and fir trees. Despite these changes however I was able to recognise several features such as the brick walled fire pool, which had doubled as a swimming pool during the hot summer months of the year.
More significantly, I was able to identify the foundations of the Camp Theatre where I had watched many excellent concerts and plays. The theatre building had a very different role to play back then. Under the floor of the auditorium had been a trap-door leading down to the start of another tunnel code-named George. This tunnel had begun but was never finished. It was built not for escape but as a refuge from any attempt by the Germans to murder the prisoners in as last desperate act of savagery. I had been involved in the tunnel's preparation, so to stand again at the point where it had began was a strange and eerie experience.
Over the following three days we visited the Museum that had been built next to the Camp by the Polish authorities and a replica of Hut 104 from which tunnel Harry had started. This reconstruction of the Hut had been completed just a few weeks before our arrival by a party of Royal Air Force volunteers, under the direction of a Royal Engineer Lt. Colonel. The rooms in the Hut are now in the process of being furnished as they would have been when we were in occupation. It will then form part of the Museum display.
Casting my mind back I remembered clearly the times I had spent 'bashing the circuit', as we called it. That meant walking round the periphery of the compound, inside the guard-rail that bordered the barbed-wire fence. I had spent many hours on the circuit with my good friend and fellow Kriegie Don Winterford, during which time his plan to become as pilot on Shiny Two was hatched. How unlikely it seemed then but we all needed a dream to look forward to.
Now back in the present, the event had attracted the attention of the media and a number of us were interviewed by the Press and TV. Also we went on the road visiting several of the places such as Barns, Schools and Churches, where some had sheltered during the Long March that had followed the forced evacuation of Stalag Luft '3' in the face of the advancing Soviet Army, in January 1945. We recalled the appalling conditions that prevailed; the deep snow, sub-zero temperatures, the lack of food and shelter and, as if this was not enough, at the end of the march we were subjected to a miserable journey, crammed into cattle trucks for a further three days on the way to our next and final prison camp. Many Kriegies did not survive.
All this activity led up to the final day of our pilgrimage, when in the morning a commemoration ceremony was held at tunnel Harry attended by officials including the Mayor of Zagan. There were also representatives and relatives of the fifty men murdered by the Germans. A guard of honour was mounted by the Polish Army. The central band of the Royal Air Force had flown in the day before to provide support. Several hundred Polish men, women and children from the town of Zagan and surrounding villages came to pay their respects. Many wreaths were laid, speeches made in English and Polish. The Polish Army Guard of honour fired three deafening volleys of shots into the frozen air. A trumpeter sounded the Last Post. As the notes faded away into the surrounding forest I felt this was a fitting tribute to all escapers who, through the years, though they were told 'for you the war is over' never stopped fighting for freedom and, in the end, gave their lives for it.
In the afternoon the Royal Air Force held its own private service at the memorial garden that had been built nearby. This memorial had been constructed by men of the north compound after the Great Escape, with the co-operation of the Luftwaffe. It consisted of an altar surmounted by three white stone tablets, inscribed with the names of the fifty officers. It was finished within months of the Great Escape and I had the great privilege of visiting it under armed escort shortly afterwards in October 1944. Sadly during the later Russian occupation of the region, the site was neglected and parts of the Memorial stones were defaced. In the few days we had been back at Zagan, the RAF volunteer party had worked wonders here. The gardens had been cleared and replanted, the paths re-laid and the damaged stones repaired.
The Service that was held in the final afternoon was an intimate affair conducted by the RAF Chaplin from Cranwell. The quiet rain that fell on the heads of Veterans and serving men and women alike, served to add to the solemnity of the occasion.
I left that special place with a sense that I had come to the end of a chapter in my life.
Copyright - Ivor Harris, Trowbridge. May 2009
| 