Chapter 34

Major Richards, in welcoming me back, was delighted to hear that I had passed both my sailing and orienteering tests.

‘Well done Markus. You have now completed all aspects of your official training so we can now get on to perfecting your story. You must know every aspect of it so well that it will stand up to whatever pressure they put you under to try and get the truth.’

‘By pressure, you mean torture Sir.’

‘Yes by pressure I do mean torture, although, if we get the process right, then they will have no need to torture you.’

‘When do I have to go to the POW camp in Taunton?’

‘You can take tomorrow off to recover from your trip to Derwent Water. We will then take you there the following day. A week of total immersion in the camp should be enough for you to fully absorb what life is like in a POW camp.’

‘Do you think that I will be in danger from the other inmates Major?’

‘No, we can make it look like you have just been transferred to the Taunton camp from Yorkshire. Your story is that you were held in an interrogation centre near Harrogate, and then spent four months in a POW camp close to Catterick.’ The Major leant back in his chair and related my story matter-of-factly. It all sounded terribly convincing.

‘How will I be able to describe the camp at Catterick as I haven’t been there?’

‘I have obtained a collection of photographs of the camp and the everyday life in the Catterick camp will closely match the one you will experience in Taunton. I don’t need to tell you that your story will have to be perfect before you are allowed to set off for France.’

‘We’ll talk again after you get back here from Taunton. I am sorry, but you will be taken to Taunton under guard, and you will also have to wear your old Luftwaffe uniform which, with a bit of luck, will still fit you.’

‘It will be a strange experience wearing my old uniform again and going back to live as a German prisoner. I hope that I don’t give the game away.’

‘Good luck Markus. I will see you when they come to pick you up shortly after breakfast on Thursday. In the meantime relax and learn your story so as it is word perfect. I have had an envelope left on your bed, which contains all the relevant information you will need. Memorise every little detail.’

I left the Major’s office and went up to my room. I now would have to prepare mentally for what lay ahead which would be the hardest part of the whole exercise. I found the envelope on my bed and inside were pictures of the POW camp in Catterick. There was also a plan of the camp showing where all the facilities were, so, with these two prompts, I familiarised myself with the layout.

As well as the photographs and the plan there was a list of the prisoners being held in the camp. The list included their ranks and the units that they had served in. In addition, there were some personal details of some of the men, mainly individuals that were the same age as me and who I would have naturally palled up with. I was extremely impressed, the Major had thought of everything, and I spent the next day and a half absorbing the information in the envelope. A nervous energy drove me on.

Suitably dressed and prepared I was ready and waiting in the reception area of Witley Manor on Thursday morning. Major Richards approached me.

‘Are you ready for your next adventure Markus?’

‘I think that I have covered everything, but I am feeling decidedly nervous,’ I replied.

‘Just remember that you don’t have to offer much information. Only provide information to a superior officer and only if you are asked. I suggest that you demonstrate a grumpy disposition and snap at people who ask you questions. They will then leave you alone.’

‘That sounds like a good plan. I will give the impression of being totally pissed off with life and disgruntled at being a POW.’

‘Here comes your guard with their truck.’

The truck pulled up in front of the entrance and we went out to greet it. A corporal climbed out of the front seat and came over to us.

‘Corporal this is the prisoner that you will be taking to Taunton. See to it that he doesn’t escape,’ the Major ordered.

‘Yes Sir,’ the corporal replied.

‘He has been held here for interrogation and has been very helpful so don’t be too hard on him.’

‘Yes Sir.’

‘Here are the papers to travel with him. You must personally make sure that these papers are given to the senior officer at the camp and I am holding you responsible for delivering them.’

‘Yes Sir, you can rely on me to deliver him safely; Sir.’

The corporal took the papers from Major Richards and brought me over to the rear of the truck.

‘Climb in,’ he instructed me.

I climbed up into the back where there were two privates armed with rifles sitting on either side of the opening. I was pushed by one of the soldiers towards the front, and made to sit down.

‘Sit there and don’t budge. If you try to make a run for it we will shoot,’ one of the privates said with great menace.

It was going to be hard to get used to life as a prisoner; however, it was only for a week so I would survive.

The truck was the most uncomfortable means of transportation I had ever had to use. The wooden bench seats along the side of the truck where really hard and the truck bounced at any slight bump in the road. I was bruised and tender by the time that we arrived at the gates to the camp. We passed through two entrance gates and stopped in front of a large black hut where I was pulled roughly from the back. I was marched into the building with one soldier at each elbow.

‘Name?’ An officious sergeant barked out at me.

‘Oberleutnant Markus Bekker,’ I replied in a confident voice.

‘Age?’

‘Twenty-four.’

‘Your Luftwaffe Squadron?’

‘I don’t have to give you that information under the Geneva Convention,’ I replied.

‘Don’t be a smart ass with me young fellow. I need to know your squadron.’

‘Well I am not going to give it to you as I am not obliged to give it.’

The Sergeant turned to a Corporal who was standing close by with two privates.

‘Take this block head to the cell in the guard house and lock him away until he is willing to give us the information we need.’

With that my arms were grabbed, and I was frog marched out of the presence of the Sergeant and towards a particularly drab looking building close by. As I was being marched I looked around me. About twenty meters away there was the main area of the camp surrounded by two high fences containing masses of barbed wire. Beyond that, I could see a lot of long low huts and the prisoners wandering around.

They didn’t bring me into the compound but marched me to the isolated building. Inside there were a number of cells. They opened one and threw me inside.

There was no heating in the building and the place was freezing. I didn’t have many clothes on, so I rapidly reached an uncomfortable temperature. There was a horrible smell of disinfectant.

‘Hello, can you hear me?’ a voice called out.

I was so tied up in my own misfortune that I didn’t hear clearly at first.

‘Hello, can you hear me?’ the voice called out again.

I moved towards the door. ‘Yes, I can hear you. How long have you been in here?’

‘I was thrown in here yesterday, and I spent the whole night here. I am absolutely frozen. Who are you?’

‘My name is Markus Bekker, and I have just arrived at the camp.’

‘Hi, my name is Lothar Meier, and I have been in this camp for seven months.’

‘How did you get captured,’ I asked

‘I was co-pilot of a bomber, and we got shot down on a night bombing raid to the midlands of England. I managed to parachute down, but most of the rest of my crew perished. How about you?’

‘I was a Me109 pilot and got shot down over Kent. I was lucky enough not to be injured, and I parachuted down.’

‘When did you get shot down?’

‘It was last July during the Battle of Britain.’

‘Why are you only getting to this camp now?’

‘I was interrogated in a large house near Harrogate for at least two months, and then moved to a camp in Catterick, in the North of England. Have you been here all the time?’

‘I broke my leg when I landed, so they brought me to a hospital first and then when I was able to walk they transferred me here.’

‘Why have they locked you up in this guard house Lothar?’

‘I got involved in a fight with a cocky 109 pilot.’ I heard him laugh. ‘Why are you in here Markus?’

‘I refused to give the Sergeant my Luftwaffe squadron number when he was taking down my details’

‘It sounds as if you encountered our stupid prick Sergeant ‘Mad-dog’. Keep away from him as he is always looking for an excuse to throw you in here and he is always barking at you.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind for the future. I’ll talk to you later Lothar.’

‘Keep warm Markus.’ I heard him chuckle again.

I thought to myself - That was particularly useful. Getting thrown in the brig would help authenticate my story. I hadn’t planned it, but I was getting credibility and a reason that I had been moved from Yorkshire. I was a troublemaker.