CAPTURE IN CRETE

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume 79, 12 January 1944, Page 5

CAPTURE IN CRETE

REPATRIATED MAN'S STORY HUNGER AND TRIALS IN GREECE “I got mine at Crete —mortar shrapnel—in the head. Didn’t know anything about it. Didn't see it coming. Out in one hit,” said one of the repatriates from a German camp who arrived in Wellington a few days ago. “When I came to, I couldn't make out where I was or what had happened. But as my brain began to clear and my eyes took to focusing things within range, I remember spotting German guards through the window of the hospital. I could se they were Germans, and I wanted someone to take them away, but found I couldn’t speak. Rotten feeling! Those Germans worried me a lot. Of course, I got to know gradually how we were situated—prisoners of war in a hospital. Then I learned, as I grew better that I was in a hospital between Athens and Piraeus, in Greece, and that we wounded had been brought there by big troop-carrying planes. “Of course, it was not so good as the Wellington hospital, but they did their best. Those New Zealand and Australian doctors deserve a lot of praise. Food not so good; flies troublesome; but somehow or other we all thought our position was merely temporary, and that we would soon be set free. We were not so far from the coast, and there were occasions when the R.A.F. came over to blast an aerodrome only a mile away. One of these days the Navy would drop in and lift us away, so we thought. Anyhow, if it did nothing else, it bucked us up to think optimistically.” AT SEA WITHOUT FOOD “Naturally things were rough,” said the soldier. “Not even the Germans could have foreseen how many prisoners they were going to take in Greece and Crete, and consequently they had not provided for them, as such methodical people no doubt would have done could they have foreseen things. However, we worried through in that hospital, and then, when most of us were able to get on our pins, came the order to move. “We were still in our old clothes tattered uniforms, mostly shorts and a shirt of some kind. Lucky fellows had socks and boots; the unlucky ones had boots that were falling to pieces, or none at all. We were mustered, taken to Piraeus, and herded on to a small steamer. Battened down in the hold with no food and little air. It was pretty tough going. There had been some misunderstanding over the food rations. At Piraeus we were told not to take our rations, as they would be provided on board the steamer, but when we got under way we found that no such provision had been made. There were no rations on board for prisoners. It was an unforgettable voyage. Second day out some tomatoes appeared from somewhere —one tomato to every eight men. Can you imagine the scene, famished men looking on while that tomato was divided as evenly as possible into eight pieces. I think it speaks well for our morale that we were able to stand it. Then the next day there was a loaf of bread for 37 men. Can you imagine it? I was given the job of cutting that stale loaf about as big as our 21b loaves at home into 37 pieces, with starving men looking on. It would not have been so bad if the number had been 36 or 38. but 37 was such an odd number. Anyhow, somehow or other I managed to do it without losing my life.” ON SHOW AT SALONIKA "You can imagine how we looked when we arrived at Salonika, said the repatriate. "We were still in our original rags; dirty, unshaven, starving; my shorts still stained with the blood I spilt when I got my crack and socks with little of the soles left in them. We were met on the quay by a full com- I pany of German guards all spit and polish, and. at the point of the bayonet, were forced into fives and told to march. Was there ever such a sorry sight! Evidently the people of Salonika had been asked or ordered to turn out, for the streets were crowded, and we were marched through the town, as a spectacle of the gallant British soldiers who were fighting Germany's superb army! As it was, many of those in the crowd tried to pass us food, grapes and cigarettes, but I was sorry for them, as they were dealt with in .a brutal way by the German guards. That degrading march through the streets of Salonika is something we have to remember! “We were only kept in Salonika for a daj' and night,” he continued. “Then we were herded into cattle trucks on the railway and away we went, we j knew not where. In Salonika the weather was beautifully fine and warm, but as we went north, slowly and with many stops, it became bitterly cold. As we had no coats or blankets, we had to huddle together to keep alive. We haled leaving Salonika. It was our last hope. After all, it was .on the Mediterranean and within reach of our Navy, and we kept hoping that there might be a last-minute raid and rescue.

Vain hope. Away we went, through Greece, Yugoslavia, a bit of Austria, passing close to Vienna, on our way to the German prison camp, Stelag VIII B. between Breslau and the .Polish border and some 300 miles from Berlin. Eight days on that journey—hell!” ‘Here we got the surprise of our lives,” said the soldier. "Behind barbed wire we saw a lot of British soldiers, well dressed, and looking very fit, who laughed and chuckqd cigarettes at u>. God! w'hat a sight it was to see our own once more, showing the right British spirit. I learned afterward they were the men taken at Dunkirk.” “The first thing that happened was the distribution of Red Cross parcels—one parcel for each four men. No words can describe our feelings as those parcels w'ere opened up. Here was food at last. Good British food, and among it chocolate! How w r e went for that stuff. But that same evening wfe were all sick and got rid of it all. Our stomachs were not attuned to such luxurious diet and revolted at it. Someone should have told us what might happen, but no one seemed to appreciate what we had been through. COMPOUND LIFE Life in Stalag VIII B was fairly routine. Now and again there were little troubles, but on the whole we were a fairly happy family, thanks to those chaps who had the gift of keeping up everyone's morale. They did that in grand style. As for our trouble, we laughed at everything, w'hich completely puzzled the German guards. They could never understand how we could laugh in the face of trouble. This huge Stalag was divided into compounds, surrounded by barbed wire. You w'ere never supposed to leave your own compound of an evening without permission, but in the daytime there w’ere open gates, and we could visit one another freely. There was a fine hospital, a church, and a theatre, where good performances were given now and again. Opportunities for study w'ere i given prisoners until shortly before I j left. Then the schools, the church and I the halls W'here these studies were con- ; ducted had to be closed down as the accommodation was required for the thousands of prisoners-of-war who had been transferred from the northern Italian camps to Germany. You may judge of the size of this camp when I tell you that normally the number of prisoners there was between 8000 and 9000, but when I left the number w r as nearer 15.000.” “There is not much to toll about our departure.” he concluded. "We were examined by the International Repatriation Board, who made their recommendation to the German authorities, and them, some months later—it is a Jong, slow business—we got orders to get ready to leave. We came through Germany and France to Marseilles, and thence by steamer from Marseilles to Barcelona, in Spain, w'here we were met by Sir Samuel and Lady Hoare and the Red Cross officials. As we entered one end of the big shed en route to our boats, the German repatriates entered by the other end. They heiled Hitler, which gave us a final laugh as we pushed off for Alexandria—and liberty." As the soldier interviewed spent a good part of his time in hospital, he earned a right to speak with some authority on those doing work in the camp hospital. His praise was unstinted for the work done by Dr A. N. Slater, of Wellington, who. he said, performed hundreds of operations in a marvellous manner, and was held in the highest esteem by everyone in the camp. It was hoped that he might be repatriated having been boarded 28. but the 2B’s of Stalag VIII B did not get away, though many of them from other camps were included in the repatriates.