Aircrew Association - Scottish Saltire Branch
Library Reference Number: 207
Brought Down By ‘Friendly Fire’
I arrived back from Canada in December 1943; a graduate air bomber, having finished my flying training under the Commonwealth Air Training Plan. My first advanced training was at No. 9 AFU Penrhos (Advanced Flying Unit), then onto No. 18 OTU Finningley (Operational Training Unit) where we were introduced to that mysterious event called “crewing-up!” Next came HCU Blyton (Heavy Conversion Unit) then onto LFS Scampton (Lancaster Finishing School) and, finally, 625 Squadron based at Kelstern in Lincolnshire.
No. 625 Squadron RAF was formed in No. 1 Group on 1st October 1943 as a bomber squadron and operated in this role until the end of the war. With Squadron letters ‘CF’ No.625 flew Lancasters from two bases in Lincolnshire namely Scampton and Kelstern, and chose as their motto “We Avenge”.
During this period the Squadron was given tasks on 191 different targets and in doing so flew a total number of 3,385 sorties. Like other Bomber Command Squadrons, this did not occur lightly and a total of 66 aircraft were lost. This then, gives some background information towards the personal experience I am about to relate.
Our first ten trips, a mixture of daylight and night raids, were relatively uneventful. The eleventh trip on 3rd August 1944 was a daylight raid on a flying bomb store near Paris, Trossy St Maximin. At our briefing, we were told that the raid would be lead by a “V” formation of Lancasters with white striped painted tail planes. We were to look for them when crossing the Channel and throttle back until they reached the front of the bomber stream. Not every crew saw them or throttled back at the same time so the “wave” pattern became compacted.
We carried on, however, in this pattern until we reached Beauvais and where we were to alter course to reach the target. At this point, the air bomber was to map read along the river to search for the target. The “V” formation, for some unknown reason, veered right of the intended route and flew for some time before veering left and back on to the proper course. This increased the congestion so much that we were literally like “herring in a barrel” and when the target came into sight, I started my bombing run instructions to the pilot and at that precise moment pressed the bomb release button. No sooner had I said, “bombs gone” when the mid-upper gunner cried frantically, “there’s a Lancaster immediately above us with his bomb load still intact.” Just as the pilot was informing us that there were planes on either side of us and that he could not deviate from his course, the gunner shouted “here they come!”
We were lucky in that, although hit by two bombs, one hitting the starboard wing-tip and the other the starboard inner engine, we could still fly. The engine had to be throttled back but the propeller could not be “feathered” because of the damage so it kept wind milling. We decided to make for Normandy, but on the way, the damaged engine caught fire and could not be extinguished. The captain gave the order to bail out, so the air bomber, engineer, navigator and pilot all successfully ejected from the front escape hatch. The mid-upper gunner was the only one to escape from the rear exit.
We were immediately captured on landing and taken to Forges-les-Eaux and then onto Cologne for interrogation and finally on to the POW camp.
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After further experiences as a prisoner-of-war, I found myself in Stalag Luft 7 Bankau, and along with others waited for news of the Russian Army’s advance giving us hope for release. At last the news was received that the Russian offensive got under way on 15th January 1945. If the offensive carried westward, we hoped we would be in the path of the Russians who could bring about our liberation. The Germans had other ideas however, and on 17th January at 11 am, we were given orders to pack our worldly goods and be ready to move out of the camp in one hour. After several days of false starts, orders and counter-orders, we were formed up in fives and told that our destination was Sagan 150 miles away. Accompanied by the sight and sound of battle and Russian planes dropping bombs, we set out on a gruelling journey on foot, and what would become known as “The Long March.”
We started on a forced trek away from our possible release with two and a half days of German marching rations; the only medical equipment supplied being what could be carried by the medical officer and three orderlies in back-packs. No transport was available for any of the 1,565 men who started on the journey and who might fall sick. A much lesser number would complete this gruelling trek. The March covered 240Km and lasted from 19th January until 8th February 1945.
19th January 1945 - The morning was cloudy. A blustering wind blew at blizzard speed. Sugar-like snow swept across the desolate plains. The air cut our faces like a knife. The whole time the weather was extremely cold, dull and definitely not made for marching. The cook house staff pulling a sleigh with emergency Red Cross rations, prisoners of war records and their own belongings led the formation. When we reached the first bend we could see that the column reached the length of a half-mile. The wind made it difficult to keep your balance and the ice on the road made the walking very insecure. Everywhere we met people walking to the nearest rail road station. The more fortunate ones had horse-drawn carts to carry their belongings but the majority had bikes, hand-drawn sleighs, and wheelbarrows or carried packs on their shoulders. Many elderly women carried staggering loads on their backs but no-one seemed to be interested in giving them a hand.
At noon we had a break of a half-hour to eat then we changed our direction of march from north to west. The road here was devoid of all snow. The cook house sleigh was pushed into the ditch and a wagon was commandeered from a nearby farmyard. In the process of loading from the sleigh to the wagon, the records were thrown to the wind. During the afternoon, we had two further rest periods of about ten minutes each. We then entered a series of small hills and encountered knee-deep snow. The boys were now beginning to feel the effects of the marching. At 4.30pm, we reached our first destination. This was the village of Winterfeld; located at a distance of 18 miles from our camp. All were billeted in small barns much too inadequate for the number of men. These barns were cold and dark. I was fortunate to get into a warm schoolroom, but comfort or a stretch was out of the question. We had 100 men in a room meant for 35. There were no facilities for drying out wet shoes and socks. It was here I realised my pack was too heavy. I dumped out 4 books, soap, unnecessary clothes and German souvenirs. We tried to get as much sleep as possible but all spent a very restless night.
The above account of the first day’s march provides the scene for the whole journey. A relentless pace to move ahead of the Russian advance, seen as a potential threat by the Germans of prisoners being released. Meagre food supplies, rough conditions for sleeping at night with no facilities for drying wet clothes. Any shelter at night was grossly overcrowded giving little comfort for the next day’s gruelling march.
20th January 1945 - The medical officer was provided with a horse and cart for transport of the sick. The cart was big enough to hold 6 sitting cases. After a rest period of 11 hours, we were again ordered to move, the camp leader and the medical officer protested against further marching until the men were adequately fed and rested. We were told by the German defence officer that it was an order and must be complied with.
21st January 1945 - This night was to be one of our worst. The medical officer's wagon was filled after the first 3 miles. Men were being picked up on the roadside in a collapsed and frozen state and it was only by sheer willpower that they were able to finish the march. The pace became slower and slower. The men demanded rests more frequently but the Germans would only allow us 5 minutes at a time.
22nd January 1945 - The general opinion was that we should make a determined stand and stay back and be liberated by the Russians. It was only when the Germans fired their weapons in the air that we decided to leave the barns. Some of the Germans came in and with rifle butts, struck a number of the prisoners and forced them out of the barns. By 4.39am we had again started on the march.
23rd January 1945 - We arrived at Wassen, a distance of 15 miles at 4pm. Here, all were issued with a cup of soup but no bread. Most of the barns were filled with potatoes and it wasn’t long before fires were going and the potatoes were roasting. Foot-sore cases were less than the preceding day, although the medical officer's cart was filled to capacity and medical supplies were becoming exhausted.
24th January 1945 - We rested the day at Wassen. In the afternoon, we were issued with our first ration of bread. This amounted to a quarter loaf per person. The cook house staff managed to make two stews. During the evening, 31 sick were evacuated to Sagan, our eventual destination. The makeshift hospital was a cowshed. There were no facilities for hot water and the lack of supplies handicapped the medical officer in his work.
25th January 1945 - We left at 4am, guards kicked men too tired to rise. The weather was mild and the march was uneventful. Evacuees still cluttered the roads. Some armour in the form of 14 tanks passed us going toward the eastern front. Just before we reached Heldersdorf, and after an 18-mile trek, we passed a column of war prisoners. They were in worse condition than us. They had no field kitchens and had no rations issued to them for 4 days. Our billets again were draughty barns. We received one cup of soup and one-fifth of a loaf of bread per person. In the last 7 days, we had come 93 miles with only one day of rest.
31st January 1945 – The previous few days had followed the earlier pattern of forced marches, being kicked by the guards when unable to start walking in the morning still exhausted by the previous day’s exertion without adequate nourishment. Today we received one-fifth of a loaf of bread plus a porridge and coffee ration. The news that Sagan had been evacuated was given to us by the German officer. Now we had nowhere to go. Next day we were to march to a town called Goldberg and wait there for a train.
1st February1945 - This morning at 8am, we were again on the road. The whole scene had changed. Slush and mud had replaced the snow and ice. A balmy southerly breeze gave us a taste of the Spring that was to come. It became warmer and many carried their overcoats on their arms. The slush made walking uncomfortable as the water soon soaked our shoes and socks. We were housed at a village just outside of Goldberg, arriving early in the afternoon. Our billet was an airless, unlit, low-roofed stable, though the floor was covered with clean straw.
Accommodations on the whole were much too crowded for the men. Our day's ration was a cup of porridge and two-fifths of a loaf of bread. Through the kindness of some Belgian workers, the sick received a gift of sausage, fried potatoes and bread. Goldberg, our earthly Shangri La, was only 3 miles further up the road. That is where our long awaited train was to arrive and transport us the rest of the way.
2nd February 1945 - This day was spent in boiling spuds and porridge. As always, food headed our daily activities. All our waking thoughts were on the subject of food. We thought food, talked food, scrounged food and lastly ate the bit we received from the Jerries. The trading market flourished with rings, watches and lighters being exchanged for bread. The civilians all took advantage of our condition. The price asked for four loaves of bread was a good wristwatch. A German brought in bread and a large sausage in exchange for a ring. While in the throes of haggling, someone stole his basket. There was a great hue and cry as he accused everyone around him but the food was never found.
4th February 1945 - The news came out that we were to leave the next day in cattle trucks. In our condition, a cattle truck was the most luxurious of vehicles. Late in the evening came the most unexpected news of the march. Of the ten men submitted to go on the passenger train, the first 5 on the list were called forward. All the officers were present, including the German commandant who very impressively read out a telegram that was translated by an interpreter; "For appreciation of your conduct on the march and for the fortitude you have shown in overcoming all hardships, the OKW (Ober Command of the Wehrmacht, the highest authority) has decided to liberate 5 men. These 5 men have been picked out by you and now they are free men. As soon as possible, they are to be sent to a neutral country."
The five men included one American, one Canadian, one Australian and two Englishmen. We all congratulated them though what the purpose of this propaganda was we had no idea. None of them believed that the order would ever be carried out. In truth, the order was never carried out and all of them, like the rest of us, were liberated by the Allies.
The camp that we were to be transported to was Luckenwalde Stalag 3A. We were given margarine, a bit of tinned meat and one-twelfth of a loaf of bread. This was to last us for the estimated journey of two days.
5th February 1945 - This morning saw the last of our marching and for once a German promise was coming true. The weather was very mild and not a bit of snow remained. This spring like air might have been the reason it took us so long to get under way. A volley of revolver shots in the air was the method used to get the last stragglers out of the barns. The freight yards of Goldberg were used as parade square. From here we were marched in batches of 52 and 64 and loaded into the closed freight cars. The doors were then securely locked. We were much too cramped for comfort and only half could sit while the other half stood. The cars had written on them “40 men or 8 horses” The train left about 1pm, going through Leignitz and Sagan. At Sagan we had trouble as we developed a flat wheel.
While it was being repaired, the camp leader wrote a note to the commandant asking him to phone the Lager camp and ask them to send us medical supplies, food and cigarettes. He refused to do anything. Actually we stayed in Sagan till 5.30am the next day and which would have given us ample time to collect all the supplies we needed.
7th February 1945 - We spent the night and most of the morning at a place called Falkenburg. We were in the marshalling yards and we spent hours of terror during in which our thoughts roamed around the possibility of an air attack by the RAF. When we did get going, we travelled 7 miles in 13 hours. The reason given for this was bombing of the tracks ahead. This morning I ate my last slice of bread. I spent most of the day resting so as to conserve my energy: No one knew how much longer we would be on the road.
The number of fainting spells and dysentery cases mounted by the hour. The MO and his orderlies were continuously on the go. If any man should receive decorations for this unselfish regard to duty and welfare of the men, then it would go to our MO Captain Howatson. He had been a prisoner for nearly five years, being captured when the British Expeditionary Force had been evacuated from Dunkirk.
8th February 1945 - Early in the morning we arrived at Luckenwalde. Everyone was up early asking questions about food and the hope of finding Red Cross parcels at the Stalag. Hunger now gnawed the insides of every stomach. A blow was struck to our hopes when the German officer said that the camp was overcrowded. There were 30,000 attached to the camp, originally built to house 8,000. He said that there was no likelihood that we would stay. You could hear morale drop through the bottom. The doctor and camp leader protested that because of the poor health of the men, it was impossible to go further and then came the first ray of sunshine. The Stalag would find room for us. You could see the smiles break over the faces of the men. At last we were nearly "home". "Home" is where the barbed wire shuts you out from the rest of the world. There is no place like a prison camp, no matter how mean, when you're a POW.
It was with light heart that we marched the last mile to the camp. After the ordeals of the last 3 weeks, we were glad to get back into a Stalag again. At each bend of the road, we searched for the first sign of the guard tower. At last, it sprang into view around the camouflaging branches of a grove of pine trees. The wires glinted in the morning sunshine and it seemed as if fairy lights danced in glee in the prospect of encircling new friends. Each man was counted as he walked through the gate. As the 1,493rd man walked through, the gate clanged shut!
As a result of the march and the deplorable conditions, the morale of the men was extremely low. They had all suffered from an extreme malnutrition. In the hospital, there were 69 cases of dysentery, 20 cases of frostbite, 23 cases of septic foot, 40 cases of diarrhoea, 8 cases of bronchitis plus 25 suffering from muscular rheumatism and numerous other ailments. There were also 150 men, who as a result of malnutrition, were counted in the barracks, as they were too weak to stand on parade.
In Stalag 3A conditions were poor. Four hundred men were crowded in barracks that normally accommodated two hundred. No beds were provided and the men slept on wood floors so close together that it was impossible to move.
There were no Red Cross parcels and none arrived until five weeks later.
German rations were insufficient to restore the health of the men. Large numbers were short of clothing and there were approximately four hundred men whose shoes were completely worn and where no clothing or shoes could be procured at this camp.
As an aide-mémoire I have referred to two fellow prisoners-of-war who kept personal diaries with dates of those events. One was Flight Sergeant John Waltky, RCAF, who managed to maintain a daily detailed account which appeared in the Canadian Press in 1945. I have relied heavily on John Waltky’s meticulous records to relate dates to events in the above account.