OTHER PART OF DIARY – SEEMS TO BE SOME TIME BEFORE THE FOREGOING ALTHOUGH FURTHER ON IN DIARY
Notes start at MARCH 24 ( not sure if dates are relevant)
Fordon 1943
Started work this morning at 6.30.Received one parcel and 50 cigs, also two letters, one from father, one from Phemie. I had a note from F. McNavae {? Frank McAnae} at Stalag. Wrote to (rubbed out). One of the boys gave me a pair of rubber shoes. We had a game of football tonight, we got beat 1-0. Done a few deals, gave 2 lb of flour and a tin of jam for 1 lb Canadian butter. Gave butter away for three tins of biscuits. Got three snaps of a young pole. Said he would bring me something in the morning.
March 25
Started work 5.30 this morning. Gave away m. overalls as I did not like the K.G.F. on the seat of the trousers. Sent a letter to the R?? (rest of word rubbed out). Had a bathe and finished at 3 o’clock, in bed at 3 minutes past.
Was going to do a bit of sparring but it never came of. Had a chat to J. Henderson. Wrote to F. McA.
March 26
Started same time this morning. Miss my hour in bed. Finished at 3 o’clock. Got a tie from a Polish boy. The boys did not half cheer me. Have a place to go if I want to go. Received a bulk issue tonight, also a letter from Cathie and also a personal parcel posted Oct No. 8. Have been trying to get a comb for a while and shoes. Now have three combs a two for shoes. (not clear)
March 27
Started at 6.30 this morning. Got some bacon and when I got back I thought I had lost it a passport, perhaps. Didn’t feel so good, went to bed, off my grub a bit. Had 4 rounds tonight, going to do a bit often as some of the boys are keen.
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| boxing kept them from being bored - note vehicles beyond wire |
March 28
Went out this morning at 6 o’clock. 11 wagons just got back. Going back to bed. 11 wagons loaded.
Played football after dinner, played a draw 1-1. Quite a crowd of civilians watched the game.
Tonight we had the gloves on again, but I was tired. Wrote to father, also a Newcastle girl. Ready for bed after a trying day.
March 29
Started same time. Thought my man the File Layer was not coming this morning.
Gave the boy my photo this ??? (not clear) afternoon. Might not manage with ??? (not clear) That boy may be up tomorrow morning.
Tonight we had 3 rounds again. Twisted my ankle for the third time in three days, beginning to get sore. No wonder.
March 30
Air raid alarm last night, the third in the last seven days. That’s the stuff.
Had another two or three rounds tonight, still in the pink.
The Quarter Master goes back tomorrow. Perhaps Red Cross.
DIARY STOPS AT THIS POINT
On my dad's release he was immediately posted to Belfast and not allowed to go home. He jumped the train at Carlisle on the way north and found his own way home. After a few days at home, for the first time in nearly five years, he headed for Belfast and managed to blag his way to his post. His short absence was not discovered and if it was his immediate seniors turned a blind eye. Glad there were some with common sense and feeling.
DIARY STOPS AT THIS POINT
On my dad's release he was immediately posted to Belfast and not allowed to go home. He jumped the train at Carlisle on the way north and found his own way home. After a few days at home, for the first time in nearly five years, he headed for Belfast and managed to blag his way to his post. His short absence was not discovered and if it was his immediate seniors turned a blind eye. Glad there were some with common sense and feeling.
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| a reunion of old POW friends sometime in the 1960's - my dad is second from the right as one looks at the photograph and Sam Kydd is in the middle |
My dad spoke sparingly of his incarceration although he occasionally let us into a memory or two. I will recount one such memory, almost unbelievable, but not so. Dad had a brother, also a soldier, in the Artillery. He formed part of the long range desert brigade and through that route found himself increasingly behind enemy lines in what was to become the first model for the SAS. One day my dad was told by a fellow prisoner that he needed to get himself to the outer fence of the prisoner of war camp as someone was asking for him. Puzzled, my dad did as he was bid. In the gloom of that evening he encountered two figures beyond the wire. Both wore ragged clothing and sleeveless sheepskin waistcoats, just like the hill people of the Balkans. On seeing my dad one of the shadowy figures identified himself as my dad's brother and he indeed was. They had not seen each other since the outbreak of war. They spoke for a few minutes before the pair had to melt back into the nearby forest. After the war the brothers spoke of that encounter. Even then my dad never got to the bottom of how his brother knew where to find him. On leaving my dad at the fence that evening his brother headed for Yugoslavia where he carried out his war behind enemy lines helping the resistance.
In this blog I have made mention of Sam Kydd, who some of you might remember as a television and stage actor, of St Valery and of the inhuman march to Danzig towards the end of the war. For those interested in finding out more about this episode of the second world war I can recommend the following books; (1) St Valery 'the impossible odds', edited by Bill Innes, (2) For You the War is Over, written by Sam Kydd and lastly (3) The Last Escape, written by John Nichol and Tony Rennell.
A postscript. When my brother and I grew up, among my mum and Dad's closest friends was a couple, the husband was Scottish and his wife was German. They remained close friends until my parents death, tragically about a year apart. My dad used to say that German people were second to none, he also said, however beware of them as a nation with power.
When I see the position they now occupy in Europe I think of my dad.
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