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Memories of a POW by Charles Slavens In
1942 we left the United States and landed in Northern Ireland where we first
heard
rumors that we would participate in an invasion of North Africa. We spent
approximately nine months in Northern Ireland before being shipped to
Scotland for amphibious training. After
we left Scotland we were at sea for approximately six weeks before making
the initial invasion of North Africa near Algiers. General Clark had done a
fine job in preparing a safe landing for us, and we had little resistance is
at the point at which we entered Africa. I
was with the Medical Corps working on detached service in a hospital while
we prepared a task force to attempt to cope with the forces of German Field
Marshal Erwin Rommel, who was pushing from the south and east toward Tunis.
Our task force consisted of approximately three thousand men. As part of he
Company C of the 109th Medical Battalion, we were involved in attempting to
cut Rommel off from the African coast. The
largest gun that our troops had was a seventy-five millimeter, while the
Germans had eighty-eights mounted on their Mark IV tanks. On February 14,
1943, in a valley called Faid Pass, Rommel's troops appeared over the brink
of the mountains in the desert. This combat was probably the first our
troops had seen, and they were startled to see the tanks coming over the
crests instead of through the pass. Our troops began firing when the German
tanks were well out of range; Rommel simply sat back.. Then
Rommel pulled his tanks to a point where he was able to spot all of our
artillery and to accurately assess our strength. With such an army poised
against our task force, we had no chance. They knocked out all our artillery
Being
an unarmed medic, I had dug a foxhole as had a friend. I told my friend that
we should shout back and forth to each other to learn if either of us was in
danger. His father was a funeral director in Altoona, Pennsylvania, and he
had sent his son a cigarette case on which was an advertisement for his
funeral home in Altoona and his telephone number. With all the firing going
on, I was smoking a good deal and kept looking at that
advertising for
the funeral home. Finally, I threw the cigarette case away because I feared
that I might be using such services before I wanted them. Suddenly
I called to my friend and he did not answer; I thought that I should go find
out what had happened to him. I started to crawl from my foxhole to go to
see if I could help my friend. He had spotted some Germans and had not
answered my call because he was afraid of being captured by them. When I
came to his hole, I found myself looking into the barrel of an eighty-eight
millimeter gun not more than twenty-five feet away. A German soldier came
over to where I was and said in perfect English, "Hands up! For you the
war is over."' Then he proceeded to search me to make sure that I had
no weapons even though I was wearing an armband with a red cross indicating
that I was a medic. We did not even have side arms. They
started rounding up the American soldiers in the area; they numbered about We
marched all that day and at night we slept on the ground with only our
clothes for bedding. Although the desert was hot during the day, it was
extremely cold at night for anyone lying on the sand. We tried to dig holes
in the ground to escape the desert wind. Groups of three or four men would
lie next to each other to share body warmth. Although the arrangement was
fairly warm, it was also quite uncomfortable. The
next morning we started walking again and marched until about three o'clock
in the afternoon. We were frightened because we had heard of mass killing of
prisoners. Then, suddenly, they lined us up four abreast in something
resembling a gravel pit with our backs to a wall. The Germans set up two
machine guns across the road from this embankment. We thought they were
going to shoot us and bulldoze dirt over the tops of our bodies and bury us
there. We had heard a good deal of propaganda before we were captured about
what would happen to us if we were taken prisoner. In actuality, they gave
us a can of sardines and a little chunk of bread apiece. It was our first
food since being captured. Then they marched us for several miles. Because we were the first Americans who had been captured, Rommel came along in a jeep to see us. He said nothing, but being in the area he wanted to see his first American prisoners. Then
they marched us until we came to a penned-in area in the desert where we
slept. In the middle of the night, however, trucks came, picked us up, and
took us to Sfax. During this time, we had received no food except for the
sardines and bread. From Sfax they trans- ported us in about four days to
Tunis, where we received our first warm food. It consisted of something
resembling black-eyed peas. We had no utensils. If one happened to have an
empty can, the peas or beans were served in that. I had such a can and
received my first warm food in that container. When I started to eat the
vegetables, I looked into the can and saw that the peas or beans were wormy.
They had not thoroughly boiled the peas or beans and the worms were still
wiggling. We waited until dark to eat our first warm meal after being
captured so that we might not see the worms. At this time, they began separating us. I was taken by air from Tunis to southern Italy, where, with about one hundred fifty other men, I stayed for approximately six months. At this point, the Geneva Convention did not seem to apply to us. We were furnished no Red Cross parcels; we lived on German rations, and we were subjected to forced labor. A great deal of ammunition had been hauled to this area by rail by the Germans, and in the mountainous terrain it was unloaded and stored. In
violation of the Geneva convention, they forced us to load any ammunition
which was then flown or shipped to Africa from southern Italy for use
against our fellow Americans. Knowing that this was not permitted by the
Geneva Convention we decided to strike. They
usually would force us to go out at four o'clock in the morning and we would
load ammunition all day. They would then bring us back before dark for our
one meal of the day. When we told them that we were not going to load any
more ammunition, they laughed and said, "That's fine. We'll cut off
your water and food until you decide to load the trucks." We
stayed out until nearly four o'clock in the morning. After one has been
without food or water for twenty-four hours, however, one tends to become
cooperative. We, therefore, loaded their trucks and they took us in and gave
us a small can of soup and a small slice of bread. Such were our rations in
those days. Occasionally we would get what was called 'butter', which was
said to be a coal or petroleum product. Once
I was loading ammunition in piles about the size of a two-car garage when
the Americans or the British strafed the valley. During the strafing I was
concerned that they were going to hit the ammunition and cause a chain
reaction which would have blown up the whole valley. I thought that if I
were going to die I would just as soon go in great fashion. I lay down by
the largest pile of ammunition and thought that that was the way to go!
Fortunately, they did not set off a single pile of ammunition. At that camp there were twenty-eight men for each five-man tent. We slept in our clothes and we soon became extremely lousy. It did not do any good to take a bath or try to delouse because of the crowded conditions. With so many men in a tent of that size, one got rid of the lice one day only to get them back in bed that night from the other men. We became inured to lice during the six months that we were in that camp. There was much dysentery but there were few attempts to escape. A few fellows tried to break out but they really had nowhere to go. When
the Americans hit Sicily, the Germans had no knowledge of where they would
land. They knew that an attempt to invade the mainland would soon be made.
Thus they roused us in the middle of one night and after marching us for the
remainder of that night, they loaded us onto an old boxcar which then
started to pullout of the station. We were almost immediately attacked by
American planes. The pilots had no way of knowing we were on the train. The
concussion from the bombs blew the doors off the car. Hearing more bombs
coming, I surmised that they were going to hit in my vicinity and I dove
between the railroad track and the platform and got my head down for
protection. When the dust cleared, I placed my one hand on the body of a
German guard who only moments before had been standing upright on the
platform but whose throat had been cut by a piece of shrapnel. I put my
other hand on an American soldier who had had his leg blown off with
shrapnel. I put a tourniquet on his leg and gave him a shot of morphine
which I had acquired. I also gave him a cigarette and then I ran to higher
ground. On the way, I encountered an Italian merchant whose little store had
been demolished. Knowing that I was an American, he shot his finger in the
air and shouted, "Roosevelt, Roosevelt, the great liberator!" After
the bombing attack they rounded us up and brought us back to the train.
About half of the train had been destroyed. They, therefore, put eighty men
in a car in which there had only been forty previously. It was so crowded no
one could sit down, and there were no toilet facilities. No water was
available until we arrived at a small camp near Naples, where we got some
Red Cross parcels. Prior to that, we had received only one Red Cross parcel.
We were shipped on to northern Italy, and from there they shipped us to Stalag lIB near Hammerstein, Germany. This camp was the first prisoner of war camp in which I was incarcerated. There we started receiving Red Cross parcels regularly. This camp had no American doctors, although I had had some schooling at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, as a surgical technician. It contained approximately five thousand prisoners of war who slept on straw in bunk beds" There were no sheets and we had only our clothes to cover our backs. Some of our fellow prisoners had unfortunately traded their shoes and other items of clothing to the Italians for such trivial items as figs when they were in southern Italy where it was warm. American money was also of little value. I had seen men pay as much as $150 for a handful of figs. I was put in charge of the medical barracks in the camp. We normally had about three hundred men who were incapable of being sent on work jobs which meant we ran a sick call of about three hundred a day in the camp. I had seven men working under my supervision. With the little knowledge I had, I sorted out the most serious cases who were then seen by a German doctor. I would take then from our compound to the first aid station, where there was a German doctor who spoke perfect English. He would tell me how to treat the sick ones. If they were quite sick, the camp had a hospital to which they could be sent. Although my job was a seven-day-a-week experience, the work I did there helped me to cope emotionally with prison life. Also, I received better treatment from the German doctor and from the prisoners than did some of the men incarcerated. Not all experiences were pleasant, however. One day a German officer entered the sick barracks with its three hundred men suffering from such maladies as malaria and gunshot wounds. It was my responsibility to call the men to the attention when an officer entered, but I did not believe that it was necessary to call men who were in bed to attention. When I did not call them to attention, the German officer asked who was in charge. Then he asked me why I had not called them to attention. My German was slight and I replied, "Nichts verstehen," or "I do not understand. " At that, he drew his pistol and I heard it click. I knew that he was ready to shoot, and he continued in German, saying "I'll make you understand." I called the sick men to attention! In
December 1944 there was a rumor to the effect that some of our men would be
permitted to go back to the United States on a prisoner exchange. The German
doctor with whom I was working told me that he was going to get my name on
the list. By this time we had an American doctor in camp. He believed that
because of the wol-k I was doing with him, which was similar to what I had
previously done with the German doctor, I should be taken off the list for
possible repatriation. The American doctor believed that I could do more
good by staying in Germany. I believed, how- ever, that if there was any
chance that I could get out of the prisoner of war camp and go home I wanted
to avail myself of that opportunity. In the camp near Hammerstein, many Russian prisoners and civilians were reported to have died of typhus. An officer at the camp once described to me how thousands of Russians had died from typhus, which was spread by lice and was recognizable because of the listlessness of its sufferers. In the final stages of the disease, those people who died from it deteriorated to the point that they could not move about. The officer said that they had other Russians load the bodies like cordwood onto hayracks and drive the vehicles to a dumping spot which they used as a burial ground. He said the German guards would occasionally see what was supposed to be a corpse squirm and would reach down to stab that person to put him out of his misery. We also heard that the shower room in which we were occasionally allowed to bathe had been used to kill some of the inmates and political prisoners. They were told that they were going to get a shower and then gassed. Some other experiences were amusing, however. I had a delightful time once with a Belgian prisoner. We were separated from the other nationalities according to the rules of the Geneva Convention, which were partially adhered to in the prisoner of war camps. The Belgian fellow was an interpreter between the Germans and the Americans; this job allowed him to go into the town of Hammerstein, where the basic medium of exchange had become cigarettes. These coffin nails were used to buy such things as radio parts or various items of food from the guards and from the other prisoners who went outside the camp. The Belgian knew that my glasses had been taken from me when I was captured for the gold in the frames. They had also taken our watches and rings. He arranged for a doctor's appointment for me in Hammerstein, knowing that the physician would not be there at that time. We were accompanied to town by a German guard. When we arrived and the physician was not there, the guard wanted to take us back to the camp. The interpreter, however, suggested that the German might not want to go back and walk guard for the remainder of the day. He asked why we did not take the day off with the understanding that the guard could do what he wanted and that we would meet him at the station that evening and take the train back to the camp together. After accepting some cigarettes, the guard allowed us to leave for a pleasant day. The Belgian interpreter had connections in Hammerstein. We went to a hotel where he bribed a German who wanted to know where I came from. I said "Iowa," but he did not know where that was. I told him that Iowa was near Chicago, and he decided that I must be a gangster. We
traded some coffee for a couple of bottles of wine and went to a pub that
was run by two German frauleins and spent the remainder of the day there.
Several German soldiers were in the pub. I was dressed in an English
uniform, but many people in the tavern had on English uniforms. Even some of
the Germans wore them and thus I was not too conspicuous. The Belgian was
also wearing an English uniform which, incidentally, was much warmer than an
American uniform. The Germans could not figure out, however, how we got wine
when they could not get it and therefore had to drink beer. We spent the
major part of the day there. We had brought some canned meat and some butter
or margarine as well as coffee and cigarettes for the girls who ran the bar
and they agreed to fix us a meal. We had dinner with them. This was my only
"free" day while I was a prisoner. We then went back to the
station and met the guard as we had agreed and took the train back. Nothing
was ever said about the glasses! After the American doctor took over in the camp, I continued to believe what the German doctor had told me about my name being on a list for repatriation or exchange. The American doctor did not want me to go home and said that the Germans were probably lying to me. He also said that if I left it would be difficult to know exactly where they would be taking me. Finally the day came when they called out the names of approximately three hundred of us who were to be exchanged. These men included the seriously wounded in addition to some of us who were medics and who, according to the Geneva Convention, should not have been taken prisoner at all. They took us from Stalag lIB near Hammerstein to Furstenwalde near the Oder River. We stayed as prisoners there, and I relinquished my job as a medic in anticipation of coming home. While in the camp there we were next to the Russian and the Italian compounds but segregated from them. The
Americans were kept in the compound whereas the Italians were allowed to
leave for work. They were taken out each morning and brought back in the
evening. While they were out, they were in a position to buy eggs, potatoes,
and chickens, and smuggle them back into the camp. The only way we could get
to them was to cut holes in the wire fence separating us and then enter
their compound to make exchanges for their produce. I did this a few times
and was caught once. A German guard was going to put me in solitary but on
the way to confinement a friend (who spoke German fluently) and I talked to
him and offered him cigarettes for leniency. He agreed to return us to our
compound if we promised that we would not attempt to escape again. Such
promises did not mean much! In
this camp I had the opportunity to help one of our soldiers who had been
shot during the invasion of Normandy. As a result of a gunshot wound in the
head, he had had an eye destroyed. One of the medics knew that I had
performed medical services in Hammerstein and informed the Russian doctor
who was to perform surgery on the hapless young man of the fact. The Russian
asked if I would prepare the fellow for all operation. My experience in
civilian life as a barber was somewhat helpful in this regard. 1 was able to
shave him and clean the wound in preparation for surgery .I learned through
my wartime experiences that the German and Russian doctors were good at
practicing their discipline in field situations because they seldom if ever
performed under the sterile conditions which American doctors expected. The
operation was a success and the boy recovered. It
was approximately three months before I was notified that I would be among
the able-bodied who would be exchanged. In the meantime, I had come to think
that perhaps the American doctor had been right. To this day I do not know
how they selected the seventy-five of us who were repatriated, because there
were more medics than that in this group. Neither do I know the conditions
which formed the basis for the exchange. Yet, seventy-five able-bodied
Americans were put on a train one day in February 1945 for exchange. By this
time American forces had progressed to a point not too far from
Frankfurt-am-Main. They
took us by rail coach from Furstenwalde and virtually hitchhiked us across
Germany because so many railroad tracks had been blown up. Our car would be
hooked on to a train for a while. Then they would unhook us and another
train come along and pick us up. It was several days before they got us to
the Swiss border. I
do not know how far we traveled in Germany to get to Switzerland because
they would take us first one direction and then another. On this trip I saw
some of the forced laborers, mostly Jewish, who were working along the
railroad tracks in starved condition. Their arms and legs were hardly any
larger than broomsticks. These people were political prisoners, but, even in
their emaciated state, they were often in shackles and chains. The
Germans became quite cordial to us on this trip to Switzerland. We stopped,
in fact, at one place where they gave us two Red Cross parcels as well as
baths. I slept under sheets that night. It was the first time 1 had seen a
sheet for two years. It was immediately prior to our arrival at the Swiss
border. When we arrived in Switzerland, the Germans turned us over to Swiss soldiers and we proceeded by train across Switzerland. We went to Berne and then to the southern part of France. There the Swiss turned us over to American soldiers who took us to Marseilles. From there we were brought by hospital ship back to the United States. During the journey we received deluxe treatment with full meals. We received steaks and ice cream as well as other delicacies which we had not heard of or seen for a long time. It took us quite a long time to come back but it was a pleasant trip as it was through the southern Atlantic with smooth sailing all the way. This trip was in sharp contrast to our trip over when we went through the North Atlantic in winter with almost everyone seasick. On the way back to the United States we also realized that we were on our way home. We anchored in Charleston, South Carolina, and were kept there four days for interrogation and briefing as to what we could say and do when we reached our homes. At this time there were-still many prisoners in camps in Germany and we were limited in what we could say. We were not allowed, for instance, to make any speeches or to talk to the press. I did not want to make speeches or talk with representatives of the media. All I wanted was to get home and see my family, letting them know that the words of my German captor, “For you, the war is over,” had finally come true. -from the Palimpsest, Vol. 65, No. 2: March/April 1984; used by permission of the State Historical Society of Iowa
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