CHAPTER ONE

‘A BLOODY CHICKEN FARM’

TUESDAY, 6 JUNE 1944

At 12.30 pm a train ground slowly to a stop at the railway halt at the small village of Bankau. An hour-and-a-half later, German guards appeared from the nearby POW camp, and opened the doors of the wagons. Seventy tired and dirty Allied prisoners of war, sixty-eight of them RAF aircrew, disembarked, their limbs aching from the cramped conditions of a long journey. It was two days since they had left the Luftwaffe’s transit camp at Wetzlar.

F/Sgt John Ross McConnell RCAF was one of them:

‘While waiting for more guards to come down from the camp, some English “Tommy’s” came over to talk to us. These boys had been here for quite some time. They were, what they called, working “Commandos”, at present moving some lumber. The guards came over and told them to get back to work, but they didn’t pay any attention. They figured they would catch hell, but just laughed it off. The Tommy’s figured we must be rather thirsty after our trip, so they brought over an urn of coffee. They stayed and visited us until more guards arrived.’

Formed into a column of march the prisoners stiffly made their way to Kriegsgefangenenlager der Luftwaffe Nr.7 (Bankau). McConnell again:

‘After a long walk in heavy rain we arrived at the camp. We didn’t mind the rain – the Germans were in it as well. On arrival we were again searched, then documented and given our (POW camp) numbers. I was L7/38. Then we were shown our quarters, a definite apple box. There were no stoves or bunks in any of the huts. Getting settled in was easy – we picked a spot on the floor and that was it.’

F/Sgt John A. ‘Jack’ Shenton: ‘We were dismayed to see the tiny huts we were to occupy, possibly for the duration. This caused someone to remark: “It’s a bloody chicken farm.”’

Sgt Douglas ‘Don’ Scopes:

‘The huts are 18 feet long by 7 feet 6 inches wide, and have an angular roof rising from 5 feet 3 inches to 6 feet 3 inches high. The floors are wooden, and the rest is made of brown stiff cardboard with wooden supports. There are two little windows, one of which is adjustable. The hut contains six four-legged stools and one folding table. There are no stoves or bunks in the huts, so for a bed the palliasses are placed on the wooden floor. Some of the huts lacked the wooden floor.

‘We called the huts “chicken huts” or “dog kennels”, and gave each hut a name in addition to its number. It obviously didn’t take anyone very long to get settled in, and after this we walked over to the cookhouse where we were given a bowl of soup. The cookhouse was merely one of the huts described above with a side knocked out, and which contained one field-kitchen supervised by German cooks. The latrines were just holes in the ground with a hut placed over the top.’

Sgt John Tomney:

‘We marched from Bankau to our camp this afternoon, and it was an amusing sight to see twenty German guards, all old men with fixed bayonets, escorting us along the way. On arriving at the camp we saw nothing but a rye field surrounded by barbed-wire fences, with gun-posts every fifty yards, and a lighting system that had Blackpool beaten to a frazzle. A field-kitchen staffed by a German cook and volunteers from our party cooked the food, mainly soups. German camp orders were pinned up, and we found that we had to be inside the huts from 9 pm until 7 am.’

McConnell:

‘Around the camp were a high barbed-wire fence, then no man’s land, and then another high barbed-wire fence. About six feet inside this was a warning fence (trip-wire). We were told that if we went inside the warning fence we would be shot. At intervals around the perimeter were look-out towers and searchlights. One guard, sometimes two, were in the towers; they all had rifles, side arms, and some had machine guns. [Strictly speaking, the ‘searchlights’ were spotlights. The ‘trip wire’ was a single wire nailed to posts about eighteen inches off the ground.]

‘Frank Bishop was in charge of food. For the present all food would be prepared at a field kitchen. We were told that all our supplies would come from Breslau [now Wroclaw]. It was about forty miles west of here, and the food depot for this part of the country. In the centre of the camp was a water-pump.’

Warrant Officer Ken Lane DFC:

‘This new camp had been designed in a more escape-proof way, and regard had been taken of weaknesses in other older camps. The result of this was that the latrines, which normally would have been logical places for tunnels, were situated well away from the inner fence. Efforts were made to construct tunnels, but this was done as much to annoy the Germans as for any other reason.’ See page 183.

After a thorough search by the guards the seventy prisoners were lined up in alphabetical order for processing – documentation, fingerprinting, and photographing. The Trupp number, e.g. ‘Tr.1’ for this first intake, was then added to the top of each man’s camp record card, as was his Kriegsgefangennummer (POW number).

Issued with a knife, fork, spoon, mug, bowl, two dark, woollen blankets (later increased to three), a pillow and mattress cover (which they had to fill with wood-shavings) prisoners were allocated six men to a hut, equipped with only one bowl for washing. Kadler’s report of 15 June also noted that the men were ‘provided with good palliasses and three German blankets each’, see the IRCC report of 24 August (page 156).

Sgt John Robinson:

‘We were placed six to a hut set in a barley field. Nothing to do all day but talk. No facilities whatsoever. A mobile field kitchen – a boiler on wheels (Gulaschkanonen) to cook daily soup. Probably the first real humour was a cartoon which pictured a hut, with a tiny propeller at the front, flying over the fence. The story behind it was that, in our boredom, someone initially whittled a piece of wood in the shape of a propeller and stuck it on top of the hut, where it revolved on a nail. Not to be outdone, the bomber men whittled four propellers, fastened to a stick, which revolved in the wind. The rattling of these devices disturbed the guards during the night, and we were told to take them down. Shortly afterwards a camp news-sheet was circulated with the cartoon.’

The news sheet, edited by F/Sgt Frank Nicklin, was called POW-WOW.

It was W/O D.A. ‘Den’ Blackford who made the propeller and stuck it on top of his hut. In Den’s words, it was ‘essentially just a propeller that drove a crankshaft and had two wooden men with their hands attached to the cranks working it up and down’. To the Germans, however, it was a highly-suspicious object, absolutely Verboten, and they instructed the camp leader and the adjutant to have the fiendish device taken down. No such thing was allowed! Den duly removed it.

When Jim Goode arrived towards the end of July 1944 he noted that ‘the huts do not look too impressive, more like rows of garden sheds’. He was not far wrong, for they were cheaply made ‘of cardboard and tarred cloth… which are sufficient in warm weather but which will not last through the winter’. (IRCC Report, 24 August 1944.) Albert Kadler, however, had noted that they were ‘new wooden “standard-huts”, a kind of miniature barrack now used by many service branches all over Germany’. There were 190 of these huts, sixteen of them for special purposes: six for the Revier (sick quarters); two for school rooms; two for the library; and one each for the Camp Leader, Man of Confidence, padré, barber, post office, and sports equipment.

*

Camp Commander was Oberstleutnant Behr. He was described by Peter Thomson, later the POW’s Camp Leader, as being ‘very tall, about 6 feet 2 inches, slimly built, fine features, black moustache. He was suffering from injuries received in the last war, but you couldn’t see any of them. He was about forty to fifty. He had been a sergeant-major in the last war, and when Hitler came into power he rose in the ranks of the [Nazi] party.’

Sergeant Andrew ‘Mac’ McMurdon wrote that the:

‘German Commandant at Luft 7 had no experience of prisoners, and was very uncertain how to treat us. He would not allow us to go to the latrine-pit (a trench with a squatter pole) at night. We complained and eventually he agreed to us going straight to the latrine and straight back. We decided to put one across the Huns and, as at that time we had received our Red Cross food parcels, we took the empty cartons under our greatcoats and walked to the latrine with our backs to the guard in the tower. In the latrine we folded the cartons flat and walked back facing the guard.

‘We kept this up for about an hour before the guard became suspicious. He blew his whistle, and shouted and screamed. In rushed six armed guards, with dogs, shouting “Tunnel! Tunnel!” Some guards searched under our shack looking for the tunnel, with no success. They thought we were disposing of sand in the latrine and, after some discussion, they decided the tunnel must be in the latrine. So two of them donned high-waist waders and climbed down into the shit, again with no success. The Hun was baffled and, needless to say, we were under close scrutiny for some days and given no rations, but it was worth it.

‘One morning at Appell (roll call), the Commandant clicked his jackboots, gave the Hitler salute, and said “Good morning, soldiers”; there was a deadly silence, then an Aussie said “Fuck off”. We all burst out laughing, so the Commandant gave a sweet smile. Someone must have briefed him because he never said “Good morning, soldiers” again.’

Other camp officers were Oberstleutnant Rackwitz and Major Nölle, while the accompanying officer from the OKW was Hauptmann Schade. Peter Thomson thought that by and large:

‘the German staff were fairly good. The commandant Behr was a hard man but would listen to me. Having very little German I always had an interpreter with me – a Canadian called [F/Sgt J.J.] Joe Walkty and he was very good. Major Peschel, who was [later] in charge of the Abwehr [Defence] was a bastard of the first water and we were always having arguments. Captain Wiener, an Austrian, was the man I had most contact with, and he was a real gentleman. Oberfeldwebel Frank was always screaming his head off, but underneath was not too bad. Richard Erffinger, interpreter, was an extremely nice guy and passed on to me some very helpful information as to what was going on.’

It is not clear when the security officer, Major Peschel of the Abwehr, arrived, but he had been serving at Stalag Luft VI (Heydekrug), which had closed on 15 July 1944, and was in post by the time of the IRCC visit on 12 September. Universally loathed, Peter Thomson was to describe him as being:

‘a very hard man to deal with, a typical Nazi. He was very strict regarding anyone that came into the camp, and he kept all the members of the Abwehr under him very strictly under control – these are the “ferrets”. He is of medium height about 5 feet 9 inches, around 180 pounds, grey hair, he was going a bit bald, blue eyes.’

Thomson added that he was: ‘over fifty and well dressed’. He was sure, too, that ‘he had a scar somewhere on his face but I don’t remember exactly where it was’.

In an affidavit sworn before the Military Department, Office of the Judge Advocate General, in London after the war glider pilot Sgt W.H. Knox declared that Peschel ‘was a Luftwaffe [sic] officer. He was aged about forty to forty-five, height about 5 foot 7 inches, weight about 12 stone, black hair streaked with grey. I believe he had blue eyes, pale complexion, round clean-shaven face, was well built, and had a very erect carriage and a smart military appearance.’

According to the British Man of Confidence, W/O Richard A. Greene RCAF, Major Peschel, formerly of Stalag Luft III [sic], was 5 foot 7 inches tall, weighed 135 pounds, was of a slight build, had grey thinning hair, blue eyes and a sallow complexion. Greene considered that most of the camp’s problems could be laid at his door. His behaviour soured relations to such an extent that when prisoners were called for to help rebuild the camp’s ‘cooler’, a row of single, punishment cells in the Vorlager, Greene made it quite clear to all that their services were definitely not to be offered (see page 182).

Behr and Peschel would remain at Luft 7 to the end, but other camp officers and guards came and went, among them Oberfeldwebel Frank and, later, Captain Wiener (see page 194).

F/Sgt Len Venus:

‘Generally, the Germans in charge were strict but correct; they themselves didn’t appear to be having a comfortable time. The “ferrets” or “snoops” as some guards were called regularly visited the rooms to hear what was going on, and to try and find the radio receiver. They spoke good English as they had lived in England, Ireland and America etc. prior to the war. They enjoyed chatting, the odd cigarette, and anything else they could find. Some were disillusioned, some not. I remember a German major asking a Welsh chap next to me in the sick ward what he thought of Hitler. The reply was that “He was no bloody good”. The officer walked away smiling.’

*

The first prisoners’ leaders at Luft 7 were the two non-RAF men who had arrived in Trupp 1 – Jack Lloyd (Camp Leader – his ‘method of running the camp went down like a lead balloon with the more easy-going air force types’) and Paul Hill (Man of Confidence, or Vertrauensmann). Because of the word ‘Air’ in their regimental name, these two soldiers – 5882820 Squadron Sergeant-Major John (‘Jack’ or ‘Red’) Lloyd, and 5550150 Sergeant Paul Hill – had logically been sent to a camp for airmen – Luft 7 – where others were uncertain as to which unit they belonged. Some believed that they were from the Long Range Desert Group. One prisoner remembered them as ‘Paras’, while another, who arrived with them at Luft 7, even said that ‘Paul Hill was a false identity for a Czech national who spoke poor English, and Jack Lloyd did most of the talking’.

.As some correctly believed, both had been serving in the Special Air Service (SAS), in fact in its 2nd Regiment (2 SAS). Thirty-three-year-old Paul Hill, from Bexley Heath, Kent, had transferred from the Hampshire Regiment, and Jack Lloyd, a thirty-year-old former miner from Wakefield, Yorkshire, from the Northamptonshire Regiment. Both men had been sent to Luft 7 after capture in Italy, on 5 February 1944 and 24 April 1944 respectively, whilst engaged on Operation Maple. (For further on Maple see Appendix V.)

The two SAS men were not at Luft 7 for long because, as Paul Hill later stated, a ‘British NCO in Stalag Luft 7 made a statement to the German authorities stating that I was organising escapes, getting in touch [with] the Polish Underground Movement and was a secret service agent’. On 28 July, as a result of this statement by the unnamed NCO, Jack Lloyd’s hut was torn apart by the Germans. After morning Appell, the main gates swung open and in ‘marched twenty goons armed with rifles and fixed bayonets, led by two officers carrying sub-machine guns. They marched straight to the hut occupied by the Camp Leader, adjutant and Man of Confidence and arrested them… Beneath the floorboards two Luger pistols and maps were found.’

The two SAS men were told by the Camp Commandant that, as they were army and not RAF, they were to be sent to Stalag 344 (Lamsdorf). Most of the RAF types were not sorry to see them go, as they had devised a plan of action that would, in theory, get everyone out of the camp. In essence, the Hill/Lloyd plan was to use the two guns to shoot the guards in the towers along the south side of the camp. Having gone through the wire, they would then make for the dense forest about a quarter of a mile away, where Polish partisans, with whom they were already in contact, would hide them all. As Wilf Hodgson remarked: ‘How unarmed prisoners would be able to do this without most becoming casualties was difficult to imagine.’

Taken to the civil gaol at nearby Rosenberg and placed in solitary confinement, Hill and Lloyd were removed to Oppeln (Opole) civil gaol on the following day. Here they remained in solitary confinement for forty-five days. John Lloyd: ‘During this period I was allowed a half an hour’s exercise per day and compelled to work ten hours a day in my cell. I was given as rations two slices of black bread and one litre of soup per day.’⁵

On 9 September the two SAS men were taken by police to Lamsdorf, but were refused entry and were taken back to Oppeln, enduring the same conditions as before. On 21 October they were moved to Stalag 383 (Hohenfels), where they remained until liberation on 16 April 1945. After they had made two unsuccessful attempts to escape from the line of march they successfully escaped at the third time of asking, and made contact with the US 71st Infantry Division in a wood near Renna, Bavaria.

*

After Lloyd and Hill had been removed Jack Lloyd was replaced by twenty-eight-year-old F/Sgt Peter Thomson RAAF, who had failed to return on the night of 15/16 March 1944 (Stuttgart). He had been trying to coax Lancaster LL828 back to England when the fuel ran out over France, and all seven of the crew baled out. Four evaded capture, but the navigator, mid-upper gunner and Peter himself were eventually caught.

Peter had been told by a French woman to go to a certain village where he would find help:

‘I kept walking for hours and it was pitch bloody dark by the time I got to the village. Stumbling about I could hear dogs barking everywhere. The next thing I saw was a bit of light under a door. “Bugger it,” I thought, so I knocked and an old lady said, “Entrez”. I told her I was a British airman, she offered food and wine. She said father and the boys were down at the pub enjoying themselves, getting zig-a-zag. Father and the boys came home zig-a-zag. They offered me some wine, and we all started drinking. At about 2 am they started asking questions.’

For several weeks Peter was sheltered by the Resistance but a few weeks later, after there had been a parachute drop, he was caught when the Germans were searching all farms in the area for hidden weapons. Handed over to the Gestapo, he was taken to Creil with American 2nd Lieutenant Roy Goldenberg USAAF,⁶ where they were locked up in the cellar of a house:

‘It was an awful place, the walls dripped with moisture and there was very little air. There was only one bed and the two of us had to share it for two nights – bloody uncomfortable. They fed us quite well and one of them gave us a couple of cigarettes, which we craved. The following day we talked them into letting us have a shave and a wash – we hadn’t performed either operation for almost a week.’

From there Peter was taken to Paris, and spent the next two or three weeks being questioned by the Gestapo at their HQ in the Avenue Foch. When they had finished with him, he was moved to Frankfurt, and ‘spent about eighteen horrible days in gaol… at first in solitary confinement which was soul destroying’. At last, on 18 May 1944 he was sent to Dulag Luft (Oberursel), and then to Wetzlar, arriving at Luft 7 in Trupp 2 on 13 June.

When he had taken off on his fateful operation in March Peter had had no reason to believe that his rank was anything other than flight sergeant, but once at Bankau it became known that he had been commissioned with effect from 18 January 1944. It was usual for an officer to go to an officer camp but, in certain instances, where deemed appropriate, permission could be given for an officer to remain at an NCO camp as its senior officer. On 28 June, therefore, following Jack Lloyd’s departure, Peter agreed to being elected Camp Leader. Ken Lane, who was already the appointed deputy, also agreed to carry on in that capacity. Richard Greene had already been appointed Man of Confidence on 21 June. The Quartermaster, W/O Frank Bishop, was another of the arrivals in Trupp 1. Jimmy McCutchan RCAF, a thirty-one-year-old gunner, had the dubious honour of being appointed the camp carpenter.