The saga of American airmen at Luft 1 is laid out in this chapter from "Stories My Father Never Told Me". The narratives, taken between 1986 and 1993, include a previously unpublished interview with Francis Gabreski of the 56th Fighter group. Of special note is the fabled "all for one" story by Fred Weiner which occurred in February 1944, when the "Heydekrug Sergeants" arrived at Barth. He told me: " It was my proudest day as an American!"

Greg Hatton, March 29, 2002

MIS Report Jan. 1945

Stalag Luft 1 (situated at Barth, Germany) was opened in Oct. 1942 as a British camp...when the Red Cross visited the camp in Feb. 1943, two American non-commissioned officers had already arrived. By January 1944, 507 American Air Force officers were detained there...

Early in 1944, the camp consisted of 2 compounds designated as South and West compounds, containing a total of 7 barracks, in which American and British officers and enlisted men were housed. A new compound was opened the last of February 1944 and was assigned to the American officers...this compound became North 1, and the opening of North 2 on 9 September 1944 and North 3, on 9 December 1944 completed the camp...

South compound was unsatisfactory because it lacked adequate cooking,washing and toilet facilities. West compound provided inside latrines and running water. North 1 compound formerly housed personnel of the Hitler Youth (and had) a communal messhall, inside latrines and running water taps...it was considered the best compound. North 2 and 3 were constructed on the same design as South Compound and were as unsatisfactory...Stoves for heating and cooking varied in each compound (but) facilities in all compounds were inadequate ... the extremely cold climate of northern Germany made living conditions more difficult for the PWs.

Capt. Archie Birkner, 509th paratrooper battalion

I was the first Senior American Officer at Luft 1. I was a Paratrooper. In the German Army, their Paratroopers were part of the Luftwaffe. When the Germans would capture one of us, they wouldn't know whether to send us to a Whermacht or Luftwaffe camp. I wound up in a Luft Stalag, but others that were captured on the jump at Avalino wound up with the infantry.

We were relieving the pressure on the beachhead at Salerno and we jumped behind the German lines to intersect a communications center. All the troops were going down to repel the invasion at Salerno. I was loose for about 10 days until one of the Italians turned me in. This was September of 1943.

I got up to Luft 1 on November 11, 1943. We went in and I was the first Senior American officer, although Art Smedley and I used to have discussions about it. He insisted that he was the first one. All the British who were there at the time, the majority had been captured at Dunkirk.

With me in South Compound, were Johnny Laneheart,and Speed Gronis. They were Air Force. There were only five or six of us paratroops. The British told me that I should assume command of the American contingent. I didn't have the foggiest notion of what to do. British enlisted men were running the camp, because that's all that was there. The only British officer that I can recall was a Doctor Nichols. What a wonderful man, and he was quite a morale builder. He did more to help everybody, than anyone I can think of.

Art Smedly came in next, but a short time later, Major Todd took command. He was the Senior American Officer for quite some time after that. Hatcher wasn't there very long, and I didn't get to know him.

North One opened in the fall of 1944, and we moved the operation over there. That's where they had all the "wheels": Spicer, McCullum and Col. Byerly. He was a real wonderful man from Aspen Colorado. He was a little older than the rest, a gentleman... but in very bad health. You'd never notice, because he didn't complain...just kept hanging in there. I think he died not very many years after the war. Of course, Russ Spicer was in there; He was a character.

In the meantime, I had gotten involved in the XYZ Committee. We were involved with the distribution of food parcels and I remained in that position for the rest of the war. As such, we had plenty of contact with the Germans; primarily enlisted men , involved in charge of our parcels. The Germans weren't particularly hard to deal with, although one of them was a hard head; Kettleston. He had worked in New York and then went back over and got involved with the Nazis. The rest of them ,we were able to work with fairly well. A number of the guards were elderly and treated us with respect; not like the young hotheads. Two, by the names of Moss and Egelston, were very reliable.

Egelston had the International Harvester Agency in Prussia and was an affluent man. After the Nazis took over, his business was shot and he wound up a Sergeant in the Whermacht. Later on I sent Egelston packages. He and his family managed to get out from the Russian side and over to the British Zone of Occupation.

We used to send out our Red Cross crew on a darn near daily basis. I had a crew and the British had a counterpart crew who went to the ration distribution center, even when they didn't have anything to distribute. The point was, we were tying up more personnel and we'd manufacture work if nothing else.

One of our guys was Pinky Westerfield, from New Orleans. He was a real character. He'd tell Kettleston: "You SOB, I'm going to take your head home in a cap!". And Kettleston would just grin like a horses ass. Pinky never slowed down!

The British had a flight Leftenant named Erich Mitchell. He'd been captured in Crete. Mitch and I were able to work together very closely. With Egelston's help, we could manipulate figures about food supplies on hand; as of what we really had and what the German's thought we had.

Jack Eames was another British enlisted man; real nice looking and smooth as glass. Jack managed to knock up the waitress for the German officer's mess. This gal became a source of information for us. Whatever she related to Jack, he'd pass on to the proper sources.

Col. Zempke came in November of '44 and things got really organized when he took over. I remember one incident that I thought was quite amusing. We had a staff meeting with the Germans, and it was going along in English. All of a sudden, they started talking in German to one another, about something. We sat there a few minutes, and none of us could understand very much. They were pretty much ignoring us until finally, Zempke broke in and explained one of the finer points to them, in German. Of course, they were all shook up, because they didn't realize that Zempke could speak it. A truly funny moment.

He was a great moral builder too. He offered to take on anybody in a boxing match in Stalag Luft one...Just for entertainment. A lot of people didn't realize that he was a boxing champion in college. He fought a Major, from West Point, Cy Minnierre. He was a Strategic Services guy ( OSS). It was a good scrap anyway, good for moral, and a distraction from the everyday discouragement that you had. Lots of guys were hoping Zempke would get his rear end knocked off. It wasn't that they disliked him...it was just the rank!

Lowell Bennett was a newspaper corespondent for INS. He went with us on the second combat jump of American Paratroops. We flew down to North Africa, but couldn't find a chute for him, so Lowell just flew back with the planes. Later he was shot down over Berlin and wound up in PW camp with us. Lowell wrote the kriegie newsletter, which they would stuff in a can and throw over the fence.

Maj. John Fischer, 355th FG, (Bronx,NY)

I flew P-47's with the 355th fighter group and I only had three missions before being shot down. That was on January 29th, 1944. It was a maximum effort to bomb a chemical plant in Frankfort. We were escorting B-17's and B-24's, when I was hit by an FW 190,which came out of the sun. It was about the middle of March when I reached Stalag Luft 1, up at Barth on the Baltic. It was the worst thing in the world to look up and see that Swastika flying over you. It would be 15 months before we got a chance to run up our own homemade American flag. First thing, our guys interrogated you when you got there: Where did you came from, Who did you fly with?... Somebody had to identify you, which was tough in my case, because I was the first one from my squadron to be shot down. However, I had been in the training command for two years as single engine advanced instructor, down in Mission Texas. So, quite a few people knew me.

The Senior Officer of the camp, Gene Byerly ,had been a bomber pilot and for some reason he had his full dress uniform cap, in camp. He was the only one in the compound with a real Army Air Corps hat. Truth is, he wasn't too well... had stomach problems and couldn't do much in the way of organization. We were there before Ross Greening, or Russ Spicer arrived. I'm not sure when Cy Wilson came in; he was an old timer. About four months passed before Hub Zempke arrived and he really started to stir things up.

Almost the first thing that happened to me, was,that Byerly appointed me to defend two American officers from the charge of " Military Tumult, in a particularly severe case". The penalty called for was death. "You are an attorney, you have to defend these two lieutenants." I had graduated from Fordham and passed the New York bar. I only had one or two cases. I had tried an Enoch Arden divorce case, an adoption and worked the "doubtful Ledger" for Gulf Oil (while attending Law school at night). I said: " Well OK, but I have no experience as a criminal lawyer, except for a court marshal down at Mission Texas... where an airmen fell asleep on guard duty." Anyway, they wanted an American since they didn't trust the Germans.

The big problem was that the officers I had to defend, Don Naughton and Ken Haines, were in the South Compound. We were really isolated from them but,I had to get over there. In fact, I stayed over one night; well, you talk about getting service. The next morning, I woke up and there was a British Bat Man, with a cup of hot tea. This was the life!

According to the defendants, there was a B-17 crew of seven men who were enroute to Germany from Holland, where they had been shot down. Naughton, the bombardier, had been a Golden Gloves boxer in Chicago. He decided to test the four guards' english and said things like:" Hello you stupid jerks." and so forth. They answered with a smile: "Ja,Ja, Ja...", so he figured they didn't understand English. Since the train slowed down every time they hit a town, the crew figured: " Why don't we get the heck out of here? We're close to Sweden". Naughton made a plan:" You two jump the first guard, you two get the next guard and I'll take care of this one." The signal was " One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go!"

Naughton told me:" We were there in the middle of these armed Gerries and we attacked them with our bare hands. We didn't even have a spoon." All the crew got out except Don; he couldn't knock his guard out. The guy held out until the other guards came to, and then they all beat him so severely with their rifle butts, that he urinated blood for a week.

Ken Haines jumped off the train and ducked down into a ditch, where he was able to hide for some time. One Sergeant made it back to freedom, but the rest were apprehended. Haines and Naughton were the only ones to come to Barth and were about to be tried.

It was an interesting and ironic assignment. Luckily, we were successful in defending them, because they ended up avoiding the death penalty. Naughton and Haines were sentenced to " Steuben Arrest", serving time in a cell. Over Hub Zempke's objections to the Protecting Powers, they were sent off to Poland. Of course,the Russians liberated them about two months before Barth and they got home before us.

In that spring of 1944, we still had thoughts about getting out. I heard about one fighter pilot who went out in a very peculiar manner. He was a small guy who got into a toolbox on the side of a delivery truck.It was a spur of the moment thing, where he just hid in there until the truck made it out of the gates. Of course, he had no supplies, so pretty soon he ran out of food, and didn't have a razor. The Germans were all clean shaven; once you grew a beard, they'd get suspicious.

When he was brought back in, the Gerries insisted upon knowing how he had made his exit or he would spend a month in the cooler. Not wanting to disclose the toolbox route,for a possible future escape, the lieutenant tells them: "I got out by jumping the fence". They didn't believe him. " You're crazy! No one can jump that fence!" Actually he was a gymnastics nut, so he said: "OK, I'll show you how, if you'll tell the guard tower not to fire at me." They agreed, and he was to get from the outside of the camp, back in. He wrapped his feet and legs with cardboard from the Red Cross parcels and was set to go.

After a fast run towards the fence, he leaped up, grabbed the top of the barbed wire and vaulted into the mass of coiled wire between the inner and outer fences.There was three or four feet between them and somehow, he was able to use that as a springboard to jump up on inner fence and make his way back into the compound. Needless to say, the Germans corrected the condition and put more barbed wire in the middle. Not long after, Hub Zempke gave orders for us to stay in.

We had tunnels going all the time, and these presented problems of their own to the kriegies. To begin with, we were on a sandy peninsula and you couldn't dig down very far because of water seepage; unlike Luft 3, where they could go down 20 feet. We found out later, that the Gerries had listening devices which could tell where we were digging. By turning them off one by one, they could located the barracks that was the source of the digging noise.

Your basic problem was what to do with the dirt. Normally you could put some in the latrines or the attic, but one of the guys came up with a scheme to distract the guards. The diversion would allow the diggers to dump in another part of the compound. They got a pole from off the side of the barracks and fastened it with some barbed wire, to make it look like an antennae. Two kriegies went out into the compound with this contraption pointing up into the sky. One of them had on headphones and used an ocarina to make that high pitched transmitting sound: " dit-dit-dit...dit-dit-dit...dit-dit-dit". You'd think these guys were calling our airplanes into camp!

The guards in the tower were bug eyed, watching all this and sent for the Abwher! Pretty soon, 20 goons in battle gear, came running into the compound on the double. Meanwhile, our guys were disappearing in the distant barracks. When the goons finally arrived there, all they could find was the pole and ocarina lying on the hallway floor. A sign was draped on the pole showing a surprised Hitler saying:" GOTT IN HIMMEL! WHY AREN'T YOU ON THE EASTERN FRONT? " You want to see some pissed off Germans? All the while, dirt from the tunnel was being dropped on the walking track!

As summer of 1944 and D-day passed by, the camp really started to fill up. We were already in North one and they were building two new compounds above us. The barracks where all the "wheels" lived was called the" Head Shed". Ross Greening was our C.O. He'd been on the Doolittle Tokyo raid, been sent to Africa and came into camp from Italy; Ross had certainly done his share of the fighting. He was a really talented individual. I got to know him much better on the POW tour after the war. I feel that part of his genius was in selecting the men around him. He was also genuinely concerned about the men.

One of the things he did to boost our morale was to organize a Kriegie Krafts Fair and everybody made something special. For that, I carved in soap, a Blue Plate Special: using watercolors sent us by the YMCA, I painted a T-bone steak, an ear of corn with butter on it and mashed potatoes on the side. Of course we were all preoccupied with food, but at least we had enough to make it through Thanksgiving with our Red Cross Parcels. That would change for the worst in 1945.

Like most of the other camps, we managed to break the monotony of our routine with things like sports and music.I was involved with the Glee club run by Harry Korger and enjoyed the theatrical productions the Kriegies put on. The Kriegie News was written by an English newspaperman who had been on a mission and got shot down. That was Lowell Bennett. It was a typewritten sheet that was passed hand to hand, because we couldn't let the Germans see it. There was a radio hidden down underground and that's where we got the BBC from. What's amazing was, that Father Charleton helped us get the paper around. He had a mass kit and the Germans would try to inspect it. He'd say:" No...You can't do that!" What a wonderful, tough old guy!

I couldn't believe it when Russ Spicer came into camp. While getting my leg bandaged, I met him in the Lazarette with frozen feet. I knew him because he'd been the director of Flight Training back at Mission, Texas. Russ was a big tough guy with a handlebar mustache. When I went in to see him, he was laying on his back with his feet up in the air, and they were all white. He'd bailed out over the channel and floated there for two days in March. His feet were frost bitten, but he wouldn't let them amputate. He kept rubbing a household embrocation on them and that had a powerful smell like wintergreen. He scolded me:" G.D. it, Johnny, don't laugh! It's the only way I can keep my G.D. mind off my G.D. feet!". Eventually he got up, and started to slog around the camp. He was fierce looking -part Indian, from Texas and quite athletic.

Of course, he couldn't play baseball, so they let him umpire the games. You'd see him out there behind the pitcher, his Colonels' wings displayed prominently on his shoulders. One day this fighter pilot character comes out and stands behind Spicer. He's got pieces of cardboard on each shoulder, with three stars on them. Spicer would watch the pitch then turn around to the "General" and say: " Ah, what was that?, SIR? " He was great for moral.

Russ Spicer ended up in the cooler for six months, beginning around November, 1944. He was under sentence of death, for making remarks the Germans didn't like. We'd go by that clink, on the way to the showers and call out to him: "Hey Russ...Anything you need?"..." Yeah! Send me a G.D. machine gun!" There was another Fighter pilot and I who decided to bring some stuff, and keep him company on his first nite. We hid in the outdoor latrine, until the huntfuhrer came in with his dog. We watched from the rafters as he reached in and collected cigarette butts from the urinals and put them in his pocket. Finally he saw us up there and we landed in the cooler with Spicer.

One of the reasons that Col. Spicer got into trouble was, somebody told him about a parade of PW's going through a Belgian town. A woman in an upstairs window, who was holding a baby, gave them the V for Victory sign, and the guard shot her. She fell out of the window with the baby. So, he says: "I'm sure you'll agree with me. If we have to stay here ten years, until everyone of these bastards is killed, it will be worth it!"

Some English speaking Germans had overheard the remarks. Within an hour, he was charged with "Inciting to Mutiny". The men had been rousted out that nite, and were standing in formation for hours because there was an iron bar missing from the latrine; the German's wanted it back!

They wanted to bring a famous lawyer up from Luft 3, for Spicer's defence, but the German's wouldn't send him; so I was assigned to help prepare him legally. The Lazarette where Dr. Nichols treated wounded Kriegies, had a bathroom window which opened into the little space where Russ was permitted to walk. I reviewed with him, the points he should try to make to the court. He wasn't allowed to have counsel present. At that time, Byerly and Zempke were also preparing the Protests to the Protecting Powers. It was certainly a busy time for me. (Click Here for Col. Spicer's Speech)

The year ended in farcical fashion. At one roll call, a Kriegie painted his face with red coal dust and cut his hair like a Mohawk. He was standing there in formation all red-skinned and bare cheasted with a hunk of tin that looked like a meat cleaver. His face was covered with Indian war paint. As the German Feldwebel came up the line counting bodies, he stumbled onto our man... and let out a resounding holler! AAAAccchhh! Vas ist Loess?

Then there was the Kriegie who won the bet. Ever since D day, we'd been hearing from new guy, that the War was going to be over in 3 months. Finally one said: "I've had it up to here with you new guys saying that! If the War's not over by January First, will you kiss my butt right in front of the compound?" ..." YOU BET it's going to be over, and you'll be kissing MY ass"..."OH YEAH?" So the bet was on!

January first rolls around, cold but clear. We're standing in formation. The roll call is finished and our CO says: "NOT Released. Stand at Ease" Out of the barracks comes three Kriegies in a row in a line; the winner, walking shoulders back, chest out. He's going to get his butt kissed in front of the whole compound. Behind him is the guy that lost. Then there's a fellow with a steaming bucket of water and a big brush. They're out in the middle of the compound, and the winner drops his drawers. the loser says to his second: "Scrub it!" So he dips it into the hot water and starts scrubbing. Everybody's rolling with laughter. The guy gets through and says" Enough?" ..."NO, do it again!" Finally after a dose of flea powder is applied, the loser had to peck him on the rear end. That had to be the one of the funniest thing I've ever seen!

Lt. Col.Francis Gabreski (Oil City,Pa.)

I went down on July 20th,1944. I left Boxted, England that morning as the squadron CO for the 56th Fighter Group. By noon I was nursing my crippled P-47 down into a cornfield deep in the Rurh. I had the good fortune to extricate myself from my aircraft and elude capture for several days. Ironically,it was the same day that they tried to assassinate Hitler with that suitcase bomb. It went off and he didn't show.

In that situation, you don't know who you'll run into or what your fate is; but you don't worry about it. Survival is everything and you take one step at a time. For all practical purposes, you've been taken out of the War. At that point, you begin to rely on the bonds that will see you through until you can get back home. There are three bonds that you have: your family bond which transcends itself to nationalism and then religion. As a soldier, your kinship with your countrymen, is already pretty strong. As prisoners we learned how important our families and beliefs could be to us.

I was captured away from any place that was just bombed. Never the less, if looks could kill, I wouldn't be here today. As we were walking by, they were looking and murmuring... I knew what they were talking about. You've got to remember that depending upon the time of year, how the war was going or who you were talking to... the professional soldier was one element and the people were another. The professional soldier knew that ,after D-day their days were numbered.

Certainly Hans Scharf must have known about it. He's the guy who interrogated us at Dulag Luft. He told me: "We have the guys from the 56th fighter Group. And they're all up at Luft 1". His job was to get information from us, but given the situation, he must have known the War was lost. There were individuals at Luft 1 who were die-hards,but most of the Germans we encountered knew that they would be held responsible.

After spending about ten days at the hospital at Hohemark, I found myself on the way to Barth and Stalag Luft 1. The thing that hit me when I got into camp was that Zempke was in, that Jerry Johnson was in and McCollum too. He'd been my squadron Commander and I took over from him. Really, the most exciting thing for me was to see them again, alive. The first thing I did was greet them over in the South Compound. Of course, they were all interested in stories about what was going on in the war. There was no question in my mind that it was going to end rapidly.

We were up on an peninsula isolated from most of the commotion. I guess the Germans figured this was the last place that the Russians could get into. It was the farthest distance from any of the Allied lines. The English had been down since '39, and this had been their camp first. We were Johnny come lately's. Americans came in droves when the bombing started in earnest.. and that's the latter part of '43. You had Regensburg and the Schweinfurt raid and the first big raids on Berlin. That was the turning point.

The British had their started their own organization based on the privledges allowed by the Geneva Conventions. When I got there we outnumbered the British and Byerly, Zempke, Spicer,and Greening were the senior officers. We weren't organized to subject authority; it was to be able to control and help each other for survival.

Compound three went up during the latter part of '44. Since I was the senior lt. Colonel when North 3 opened up, I took it over. Gerald Johnson was my assistant.

We had British at North one, but North 2 and 3 were All- American. All of our buildings were on stilts, so they could let the dogs in.I don't think they could build them on foundations because we were on a marsh. The area of the compound was just muck that was trampled down and nothing could even grow in the compound. As I recall, the kitchen was a small separate building where we heated the water and food the Germans gave us.

The most important thing was communications with our headquarters and the BBC. Ration supply was the other thing. Every barracks had people assigned to this task. They would go out with their wagons and pick up the rations from outside the compound; then they'd return and distribute it. In the final analysis, the compound commander was less an authority... it was more like keeping peace in the house... you're disseminating information, that you're getting from the South Compound or London.

We'd communicate with our supply people and the guys getting the rations were the key. If Zempke had some messages, he'd send them over. Everyday details were going back and forth; principally that was your greatest exposure to the outside world.

Gerry Johnson was involved in receiving radio messages. He and I were in the same squadron (the 661st). He was picked out for special training on code work and I only found out after I got into camp.

We left most of the communicating with the Germans to the top brass. Of course, every morning and every evening you had to fall out. Then we had to deal with the Lager officers.The ferrets would go into the barracks and say "OK, they're all out."

In each camp, the physical layouts were about the same. We had a hallway in the center of the barracks, and twenty four people in a room, sleeping in tiers. Compound commander had two people in a small room at the end of the hallway. There was no office,as such. I was in there with Gerry Johnson.

The communal kitchen was for the German rations. All the stuff made from dead horses or vegetables was put in a big vat and they prepared it for us. We took it to this central cookery. Afterwards the people would come in, get their ration and go back to their rooms.This was in addition to your Red Cross parcels, which were adequate until the end of the war.

Lt. Dale Peterson, 401 BG, (Minnesota)

I was on the 8th of March mission to Berlin, when I got shot down. It took a couple of weeks to get to Barth. I came in just around the time they were opening North 1 compound. We were on a peninsula with water on both sides of us, and a woods on the west side of the camp. There were about 3500 of us,at that time.

The showers were over in South Compound, which was mostly British. Once in a while they'd march us out through the gate. The British had a library over there, furnished by the Red Cross. They had a breakout in the fall of 1944, when we had 16 men go over the fence. They had 3 or 4 barracks that the Germans used and they were in the process of taking the fence down and moving it over. They hadn't moved the guard towers, so there was a blind spot. When we fell into formation in the evening for a count, why we had a soccer ball and we'd kick it all over. They'd try to count and there'd be one German behind the line and one up front. They'd count " Ein, svie, drei, fier, funf..." and we'd move over one. That screwed up their count and we'd keep them busy.

 Meanwhile, these guys got out; they did it in the evening. The sun went down in the evening about 5 pm in the afternoon..The men went out, and about 8 guys got caught right away. Eight were out for about a week. Nobody made it home... they all ended up in the cooler and got bread and water.

I was there when that RAF Mosquito shot down a Focke-Wolfe. The Gerry was out there practicing gunnery, when this Mosquito (probably heading back to England) found him and shot him down;that was in the spring of 1944.

You know,they didn't shoot down many B-26's; they were so fast and they flew so low. We had a B-26 crew come in and they wanted to know, what we were doing sitting around so long. There was a big map hanging on the wall of one of the barracks. A guy was showing the pilot where Sweden was and he asked: " Why don't you just hop over there?" The next day we hung up a role of toilet paper on that map and told them: "Here you bastards; here's your escape tickets to Sweden."

They made coal out of some kind of dust with some kind of resin in it. We got a few bricks of that each nite, to heat the room. When the Gerries made that blackbrot, most of the sawdust settled down to the bottom of those loafs and made a heel about one quarter of an inch thick, that you had to slice off before you could get to the bread. We used to slice that off and mix it with water, which turned it into a kind of putty. We used that to fill in the cracks in our walls, to keep the wind out.

Maj. John Fischer, 355th FG

Probably because of our isolated position on the map, Luft 1 was to become the last operational PW camp for airmen. We were out of the way of the Russian advance, so the Germans didn't move us around. That made us a collecting point for a lot of new or displaced kriegies. Our numbers more than doubled between January and May of 1945. Along with the overcrowding, we were experiencing severe shortages in food parcels and supplies. During the first week in February, 1500 sergeants were evacuated to our camp from Stalag Luft 4 in Poland. We assigned them as best we could to the slots that were empty in the various compounds. Tents were erected for the overflow. For the whole month of March, we were practically on a starvation diet. At the time,Ross Greening was in command of North 1, Cy Wilson of North 2 and Francis Gabreski ran North 3.

Capt. Archie Birkner

There was quite a bit of controversy, when the Germans told us that officers were supposed to be able to have orderlies. Of course we all said: "No, we don't need any orderlies!" Somebody suddenly thought: "Well yes we do, because we can give them better living conditions, than where they are." Zempke finally made the request, but of course, they never had to pull any orderly duty.

One of the guys who came in about that time and worked with the parcel crew, was Sgt. Frankhauser. He'd been a gunner on a B-17 that had broken apart. He fell umpteen thousand feet in the tail section and landed in the snow. The guy just walked away, without even a scratch! We used to look at him, shake our heads and say: "I don't believe you!"

S/Sgt. Hyman Hatton, 392nd BG, (Bklyn.,NY)

In January 1945, we were transferred to Stalag Luft 1. The 125 mile trip took 8 days. We were crowded into boxcars. Although there was no room for me, my fellow prisoners crowded themselves to give me a square foot and a half of space.

At the beginning of the trip, one Red Cross parcel was given to every three men. During the 8 day trip, we were not allowed to leave the boxcar and no water was brought to us. We had no food the second and third days. We tried to bribe the guard for water and, on one occasion, we got it.

On the fourth day, we were given one third of a loaf of bread and canned, corned beef. Before one of our doctors could have the word passed around, that the corned beef was contaminated, many of the men ate it and became ill. On the third night, one of the men in my car had convulsions. We finally persuaded a guard to call our doctor. When the doctor came, he got permission to take the man with convulsions and myself, to the boxcar that held the hospital cases. There, conditions were hardly better, except more water was available.

Sgt. Fred Weiner, 44th BG, (Long Island,NY)

When we left IV, we had some warning. Its a funny thing, but when-ever you're in a camp of any kind, whether its a prison camp or army camp - there's always rumors. I guess we more or less knew what was coming, maybe a few days ahead. The Russians were advancing, so the Germans had to keep us moving. It seems so stupid because supposedly, by law, an American P.0.W. cannot go into combat again.

I guess you heard what kind of trip it was. We had the forced march and the box cars that were crowded. On the box cars; it took us eight days, stopping and going. I didn't know Hy Hatton at that time. They had one box car and one doctor for medical cases. So many guys got sick from the water they gave us to drink! What happened was,there were so many of us in the box car,that if you fell asleep, people fell asleep on top of you. That's what happened to me; I lost the circulation in my legs and my boots got stuck! My feet were killing me because they swelled up and they had to take me on sick call. I finally got them to take me out, and they had to cut my shoes off; just to let my feet out and get my circulation back. While I was there, I watched that doctor operate on some guy who had shrapnel in his leg. It had swelled and become infected. All he had to use, was a candle to sterilize a straight razor with. And that's what he operated with!

They didn't stop the train to let us go, except once.They stopped the train and the guards were out. There was snow on both sides of the track. Finally they let us move our bowels, which we hadn't been able to do. Now here's this beautiful winter scene with all the white snow and all of a sudden its all spotted up! Then back into the box cars again.The train took us right to Barth.

We didn't know it at the time, but this was strictly an officers camp. They were now expanding it to accept us non-commissioned officers. They were going to start crowding us in. We didn't know they were segregating the Jewish officers in this camp. Later we found out it was unsuccessful.

Well, here we were - new prisoners. We had just come from this other camp. We were on this terrible forced march and the 8 day ride on the box cars - so crowded that not everyone could sleep at one time. It was awful - you slept standing up! The Germans took us and assigned 40 men into each of these bare rooms. We were all young guys - maybe 20 years old - and you're saying to yourself "what's next - what's next?"

So, they take us into these bare rooms, the 40 of us. I was with your Hy Hatton; at this point I had met him on the forced march into camp. We both knew we were Jewish, and we were worried about it. Don't think we weren't! We didn't know any of these other American airmen that we were with.

The Germans told us to remain in this room and we knew the routine already - we figured they would come in and tell us we'd have to fill straw into a mattress and use that to sleep on the floor. That's that we did in the other camp - we called them "pally-asses".

So anyway, there's 40 of us - Hatton and myself... Instead, after about an hour, here comes this typical German military sergeant. He's a big guy with a handlebar mustache, and there's two privates with him; their rifles on their shoulders, and he announces: "ACHTUNG".

So, we all stand at attention and he says "I'm here for a specific purpose.I know there are some Jewish soldiers in the room and I'm going to count to three (3). I'd like them to take a step forward!"

Now I can't answer for Hy, I can only account for what went on in my head. I'm saying to myself: "This is it baby! When I take that step forward, I'm finished! So I'm not taking any step forward - and if they're too dumb to take a look at my dog tag and tell I'm Jewish - then I'm not telling them what to do!"

So the sergeant goes : "Ein... Svei... Drie..." and nothing happens. Man, there's a deathly silence in the room. All of a sudden this sergeant starts to rant and rave in German and he says in English: "I know that there's Jewish soldiers in here. I'm going to count to three again. If nobody steps forward the soldiers will be ordered to open fire".

 The two privates aimed their guns into the middle of the group!So again, in my mind, I'm saying "Now this is too much! I mean,if I'm going to get it, there's no sense in everyone getting it."

The sergeant starts to count again: "ein...svei ...drei..." As soon as he starts to say "drei", I start to take a step forward, and... MY GOD!...I look around and there's forty men taking a step forward! All forty men taking a step forward! All forty without an order!

Now here's American Airmen from all over the country.I never met any of them,except for Hy,and I had no pre-arranged signal with him.Every one of them,at the count of three,took that step forward. You could say,it was just American ingenuity!

This sergeant became livid! He started to curse again in German.His face turned purple.The veins were sticking out on both sides of his neck.I'm sure that he'd never come across anything like that before. The two privates put their guns back on their shoulders;each of them grabbed and arm and dragged him out of there.They just left and nobody ever bothered us again about being Jewish.

I tell you,I really felt proud to be an American.If you planned something like that ,we probably would have screwed it up!

S/Sgt. Hy Hatton, 392nd BG

Except at Stalag Luft VI, the rations issued to myself and fellow prisoners were very inadequate. This was especially true while aboard the freighter and in the boxcar. At Stalag Luft IV, we were required to account for every can of food issued. At Stalag Luft 1, rations ceased for two months. The United Stated Army Air Corps Officers at the camp ,had a stock pile of food and the non- commissioned prisoners such as myself, were given one meal a day at the mess hall. This consisted of kohlrabi, horsemeat, potatoes or barley soup. I lost a considerable amount of weight during the period I was a prisoner of war.

Sgt. Fred Weiner, 44th BG

In Luft 1,I took a job working in one of the German field kitchens,which was to heat up water,because they didn't give us any food to make.I used to heat the water,and that way I could steal a couple of extra lumps of coal - we needed the extra hot water for Hy's back.Near the end of the war, they stopped giving us rations -it was just before we got liberated. We were there from January until May and we started to get pretty weak. I was 220 lbs. when I entered the camps and 150 lbs when I was liberated.

I would say they stopped sometime in April; although they still gave us a little food - like kohlrabi, black brot and potatoes. Even before that, they stopped giving us our Red Cross parcels. The Germans were keeping them for themselves. Those parcels are really what kept us going. Oh, we got pretty hungry! In fact, when the Russians liberated us, we were pretty weak - it was hard for some of us to get up and greet them!

We did have some diversion though, when we were in the camps. One of the popular comic strips was L'il Abner. Sometimes, at night,when lights were out, there was nothing to do and nobody was sleeping anyway. The men in the barracks would take the place of different characters in Li'l Abner! We'd act out a whole story. Like we'd be roaring and laughing so hard that the Germans used to bank on our doors to shut us up - they couldn't imagine what we were up to!

Between the guards and us, it was like a game. Sometimes the guards would steal from our Red Cross packages, during inspections. We had to wait outside while they went through our stuff. So we'd wait until a can of instant powdered coffee was almost finished,then we'd fill it up again with stuff and spike it with cascara pills. Cascara, in those days was a laxative pill. We used to shave it down and grind it up. It was a brown color and would blend with the instant coffee. You'd always know who stole the coffee, because he'd be on sick call the next day.He couldn't get back at us;it was against German army regulations to steal.

One bar of soap from a Red Cross package was worth a week with a woman from town (for the guards). They'd steal that too, but sometimes we'd put razor blades in the soap for them. We'd trade soap for radio parts. The guys would start with one part and then the guard would be hooked. If more parts were needed we could blackmail him for more because, really, trading was "verboten". They'd threaten him with exposure and he couldn't refuse.

All the barracks were made on legs (they were never on the ground) and we finally found out why. They had made a crawl space so the Germans could come underneath the floor with a stethoscope and listen to us, for intelligence. What we used to do, was, we always had water boiling at night. If we could detect them under the barracks, we used to pour the water between the slats. Boy, some nights, shots would come flying up from there!

I tell you, sometimes, we didn't expect to get home alive. Anyway, that's basically what the background of the whole thing was. Like, if there was an air raid and we didn't get back into the barracks fast enough for the guards, they'd shoot at us. They actually killed one officer, who didn't hear the alarm! You know, it wasn't food, but security that worried us the most.

I traded my food for cigarettes. We were afraid of getting bombed during air raids - they had a flak school and an installation near the camp. Before we got liberated, the Germans started blowing up the installations - we thought they might execute us. We found out later, they had gas chambers being built and they were going to gas us off if they had time before the Russian advance. If the Russians didn't liberate us when they did, we were dead!

S./Sgt. John McCracken, 390th BG, (Penn.)

I went down on the 9th of September, 1944. I was in the 390th Bomb Group; engineer and top turret on a B-17. I got to Luft 4, about the 25th of September. When I came in they had some tents set up in Lager A. We were in tents for a week or so until Compound C opened up and then they put us in C. I was in Barracks three, room nine. I was one of the first of them in there.

I had frostbitten toes and I was summoned out of the barracks one day to go up to the medics. They had been treating my toes with sulfa powder. The doctor looked at my toes again and he said " You're going to be evacuated by train. We'll let you know when". I believe it was around the 27th of January when 1500 of us went out on the train; about 54 to one boxcar.

We were given each of us a Red Cross parcel, which was food for the week. We were told that the train would arrive in Barth, after about three days. We started eating because it was something new and we thought they'd take the excess food from us. About the second day, we realized that we weren't travelling very fast. We'd go for a couple of hours, then be put off on a siding and set for hours.

It was cold, with no place for heat. We were packed in there, you couldn't even sit or lie down. Your buddy would sit down with his knees up against his chest and sit on your feet. That would keep your feet warm while he tried to sleep. I was a stranger to all the guys in our car.

Most of us that I know of where either sick or wounded. The ones that weren't sick when they got on the train, got sick afterwards, with dysentery. They had one pail in there for us to relieve ourselves in. Finally, they cut a hole through the floor; it was already sort of rotted through, so we made it bigger. Then the ones who could get to it ,would sit on that.The wood excelsior on the floor was all covered with human waste or vomiting, and so on.

One time we was off the train in nine days. I remember we weren't allowed out for very long because they heard planes coming in. Then we got to wondering if they had painted red crosses on the top of the cars or not. We had one guard with a door at the back end of the car. The guard would sit there. He hung his rifle up on a nail and sat at the end of the car. He spoke pretty good English and said: "I know the war is just about over. We're losing. If any of you want to escape, just go. I won't stop you. Just don't hurt me. I didn't do anything wrong to you. I'm just guarding you." He was trying to impress us that he was on our side.

We came into the main station and marched from the train down the road to the camp.I ended up in North three, the same as Col. Gabreski. They separated us... some went into South compound, others into North one.

My barracks had one side for the British and one side for the American NCO's. I know when they sent me in there, I had the first room as you went in the door, on the left side. We had triple deck beds built in with wooden slats that were three to six inches apart. Cardboard covered it and then some wood excelsior was scattered over the cardboard. Everybody tried to get on the top bunk because when that stuff came down, it would filter right through.

Back in Lager C, we didn't have beds there. We slept on the floor the whole time. There was 22 in a room and half of us went to each side. We had two German Blankets. We pulled the thread out of the hems of those and sewed enough blankets together to stretch across the room. We pulled nails out of the walls and tacked the blankets down on one end; then we folded the blanket back and put wood excelsior underneath and pulled the blanket back to the wall. We slept on top of that with another layer on top of us. Each morning the blankets got pulled back, the excelsior was collected again. We had a pot bellied stove and a table in the room; I believe one guy slept under the table and another slept on top of it.

We got to Barth about the 6th or 7th. The English in our barracks did not like us . They had to double up, whereas before, maybe they had the whole barracks to themselves. Another thing I didn't like was that up at 4, we could trade with the guards. At Luft 1, you weren't allowed to. You'd give your trading items to the barracks chief, who happened to be an English officer. You told him what you wanted. If you gave him a pack of cigarettes and told him you wanted razor blades in return; he'd keep those cigarettes and maybe you'd never get what you asked for. It was almost the luck of the draw and we didn't like it at all.

Another thing was that at Luft 1, this being an officers camp, we had work to do. It was just the idea of it. We had to go out and dig ditches to drain the water off the compound. It had rained a lot that spring and the place was built on a marsh anyway. Down at 4, we always had Russians to do that sort of thing.

Sgt. Robert Longo, 392nd BG

I was the right waist gunner on a B-24 and flew with the 392nd Bomb Group. I went down over Berlin on April 29,1944 and had been a prisoner with Hy Hatton, since May, at Stalag Luft 6 and 4.

As the Russians started getting closer to our camp in Poland, you could hear their guns in the distance. They closed the camp that winter.I was having some problems with frostbite and had hurt my leg on the bailout, so they sent me out by train to Barth.

What a miserable trip. We were on the train for days; we didn't get any water and were packed in there with guys; just stacked up. After a while, we started complaining, and got some water. Trouble was, I think it must have been brook water or something. Before long guys started getting sick. I know I was all bound up myself, and had a hell of a time.

When we finally got to Luft I, they treated us pretty good, as I remember. I paired up with Mike Katuga, from Rhode Island. We shared our food, and the British called us Muckers.

At first, we got our food from a mess hall. That burned down at some point, and later for a while, the food got pretty scarce. We heard that the Germans were stealing our Red Cross Parcels and giving our food to civilians. There were some hassles in camp over food, but that got straightened out pretty soon. I don't remember going hungry; I always managed to get something to eat.

Lt. Dale Peterson, 401 BG

 They cooked the barley all nite in field kitchens. They'd fire them up and let them cook all nite, because you had to in order to get it soft enough to eat.It was rumored that some of the people were dissatisfied with the way they handled the chow; so, one day it burned down! Whether it just caught fire accidentally or what, we'll never know.

Maj. John Fischer, 355th FG

North 1 had a communal kitchen where the men would come to receive their meager German rations. You might end up with three prunes for breakfast. They cooked the Black Brot in there, in these big ovens that stood six foot high and six foot wide. After it was prepared, it was stacked in the hallway, for distribution the next day. It was also the focal point of some of our social activities.

During the first week in April we finally received our long overdue Red Cross food parcels. About that same time, the mess hall burned down. I can vividly remember the men running, around holding the fire hose... and nobody was manning the pump on the fire pool! All this burned Kriegie bread was piled up, and the Germans were going to throw the stuff out. It had a nice thick black crust on it and we grabbed it. When you cut off about half an inch of the black stuff,the bread was delicious! Normally it was soggy and you had to toast it, but now it was finally cooked.

You'd think the fellows would have enough on their minds, waiting for their rations and the Russians to come; but I still had plenty of defence work to do. One of our guys went around the bend, that April, and ended up swimming in the fire pool. He told the guards he was a shark and landed in the clink. His cell mate was a horse of a different color.

One of the Luft 4 sergeants had been placed up in North 3. He was a stubby guy with a real beadle brow. He may have been a tough guy with the mafia, and the rumor was, he'd been involved in a homicide back in the States. He told the FBI:" All I want to do is Kill Germans" and somehow he ended up in the AirCorps. This was not to our benefit.

He claimed to have been part of a tragic escape attempt and thereafter, his purpose was "to cause trouble to the Germans". Instead, he wreaked havoc down at Luft 4 and wound up in the clink here, for striking a superior officer. Evidently he'd been stealing the guy's food and then punched him. It was a dicey situation and Gabreski locked him up, for his own good. That wasn't the end of it though.

While in the cooler, he asked one of the guards to get him cigarettes. I guess he was going to give him some money. When only two cigarettes were thrown through the window, he got up and started yelling; raised a big commotion. The trouble was, the coal detail had thrown in those cigarettes on their own! Now they ended up in the clink too. This whole affair wasn't sorted out until after the war.

Just the opposite type of thing happened to a Major named Bronson. During a very cold roll call, some of the guys wouldn't take their hands out of their pockets. The German's objected to this and were about to grab them, so he yells out: "Everybody put your hands in your pockets!" They all do it, and the Gerries can't put them all in the clink... there's too many of them. So, Bronson was charged with disobeying orders.

It boggles the mind to think that they were going through all these legal procedures, while not many miles away, at the air base, they were starving people to death. They had a camp for political prisoners. Father Charleton was one of the first to go over, to give last rites to the dying, and what he found was really appalling. The inmates had been locked in and starved until they looked like skeletons.

The walls were covered with marks, as though the people had to walk with their hands up, along it. The whole place was sweltering and unventilated, with a tremendous stench. As he walked in, one of the prisoners looked up at Father Charleton and asked: " Ruskie?". Father Charleton said:" No, British". The fellow nudged his companion and said:" Hey, British!" The guy had been dead for a week.

Capt. Archie Birkner, 509th paratrooper battalion

Along about March of 1945, we were really hurting for parcels. The Germans told us that it was due to the saturation bombing of the railroads and terminals; we thought they might be holding packages back. The decision was made to tighten up on the distribution of what parcels we did have on hand. With the welfare of 10,000 PW's at stake, we wanted to make sure that we didn't run out.

The Germans gave us so little, that, if we had to subsist on their ration, we would have been in the same shape as the people in the concentration camp. We knew of it from our work crew that went down to unload the boxcars. We'd see these people walking around like Zombies in lockstep, so we knew something was screwy. As soon as the Germans pulled out, we went down to check it out, and every picture that you've ever seen, of a concentration camp, is true! It made quite an impression on me. What I found difficult to understand was, the people in the forced labor camp, just across the road, told us that they didn't know what was going on!

S/Sgt. Hyman Hatton, 392nd BG

April 30th 11:00,Jerry left
May 1st Russian Reco arrived ( Hitler dead, listened to Hit Parade).
May 2nd Left Camp, went out Flak school and Barth.
May 4th Got word to Americans ; airport cleared.
May 5th American Major, Capt. and Sgt arrived...Notes: Men leaving camp on their own. Russian General visited camp with Russian correspondents.

Maj. John Fischer, 355th FG

On May first,we got our first sight of Mongolians. This guy comes in with a tommy gun, a rifle and these potato masher grenades in his belt.He says: " AMERICANS...AMERICANS!!!" and kissed you right in the mouth. Geez, the last thing you want to do.

The Chief of the Air Force had promised to fly us all out of there, but it was two weeks before that happened. When the Russian field forces came in, Col. Zempke said: " Leave the fences up!" They wanted to pull them down and he said "NO!". There were land mines around, and the Russians might be trigger happy. A lot of the guards were killed by them. As soon as they found out you were associated with the Prisoner of War camp, they'd just go ahead and shoot them.

In order to make sure that everyone stayed in, we had roll calls and made morning reports of who was absent. Of course you couldn't keep them all in camp, so there were some AWOL's who started back west. Some of them never showed up again. I met people on the POW Tour who said: " My brother was in that camp and he never came home. What happened to him?" It was the worst two weeks of my life; we had been liberated but we couldn't go anywhere!

S/Sgt Robert Longo, 392nd BG

We were liberated in May by the Russians. Actually, the Mongolians came up first. They did a lot of damage to the town, raped the women and what not. When they came into the camp, they took watches off the G.I.'s. They left and the Russians came and ripped down the barbed wire.I don't know where it came from, but we saw meat for the first time. Of coarse, we went to town. The Germans were complaining about how they were being treated. All their soldiers had taken off and left them to fend for themselves.

Now, for most of the year I spent in Germany, I had slept on the floor. May and June up at Heydekrug, I had a bunk; but all through Gross Tychow and Barth, I had to sleep on the floor. So, I went down into the town and dragged home a couple of mattress', so I could get a good nights' sleep.

T/Sgt, John McCracken, 390th BG

One of our guards came with us from Luft 4, up to Luft 1. He was a blond haired feldwebel, that wore a patch over his eye. The word was, he'd lost his eye at the Eastern Front. After the Russians liberated us, we were walking in an informal bunch through the town and we saw this man. He was in civilian clothes; when he saw us, he ducked into a building. Some of our people went out and found a Russian soldier. They told him where the guy was and the Russian went in and dragged him out. Everybody yelled: "That's him, that's him!" A few minutes later, as we kept on going, we heard some shots. We figured he'd been executed. He was a mean SOB and we weren't sorry to see him go.

S/Sgt. Fred Weiner, 44th BG

Those Russians were a wild bunch. The first ones that came in were Mongolian troops. THEY WERE WILD!!! They were boozed up with Vodka and came in on motorcycles. Some of them were falling, breaking arms and legs...getting back on their motorcycles ...and driving, I don't know how!

Stalag Luft I was a tremendous camp,there had to be thousands of guys there, and we all saw different things that day (May 1). Where I was, a tank came through the barbed wire and flattened it out. These big, six foot cossacks were the guys that took over. They went into Barth and got cattle to feed us (which was not good, because we all threw up...our stomachs couldn't take it).

When we were liberated, the officers told us not to leave camp. You're not going to tell a bunch of American GI's not to leave camp, after a year behind barbed wire! I'lI tell you what happened to me! I went out of camp - got a bicycle and drove into town to check out Barth. Come back, and there's two M.P.'s now ... they're going to lift me off the bike and then lock me up! ...Put me in the hoose-gow! ...They're going to court marshall me, they tell me. AWOL from prison camp!

Afterwards, they made us wait and wait until the allies had transportation to take us to France. These were the recuperation camps in Europe. Once we were in American hands, they must have taken Hy Hatton into the hospital.

S/Sgt. Hyman Hatton, 392nd BG
May 12 Left camp for airport and France.Arrived at Sissone,242nd General Hospital.
June 5 Arrived at Marmalon Hospital.
June 8 Flew to Hospital
in Paris.

Lt. Col. Gabreski,

The most impressive sight was to see to see those Cossacks come in on horseback. They wee great big bruisers. Whether they were the advanced party, I don't know, but they came in and looked the situation over.

We told them what we would like: We were short of food and didn't have anything to eat for a while. They in turn confiscated cows in the local area, and brought them in. They shot them, we cut them up. The guys who did the work were all professionals who'd been in the business with Armour or Swift. They knew exactly what they were doing.

They set up barbecues out in front of the barracks and set to cooking it up right away. The meat was still quivering for my taste.The Russians brought in Vodka and Schnapps and we had a Liberation Celebration. They were as nice and congenial as could be. The only barrier was the language barrier, so we did everything by motion.

The Russians lived off the land; so had the Germans when they were on the offensive. It was just fair play when it was the other way around.The truth is they really ripped up the town and its people. They did not have any food supplies of their own.

According to Zempke, we were in touch with through BBC and other message systems with the 8th AF Headquarters. Our instructions were to stay put: " Don't leave camp. It's too risky and we'll have airplanes to evacuate you, just as soon as we can get permission from the Russians." The Russians actually warned us about going out: "Once you're out in the open, we won't know if you're German or anybody else. You're liable to get shot."

They were going to use a small field that was in conjunction with the factory that was building Me 262's, using forced labor. Months before the Russians came in the Germans started depriving these people of food ; furthermore, they had all the electric fences charged. It was a matter of them destroying all their political element. I was exploring the area to see what had occurred and I went into that camp; saw it with my own eyes. People that were just skin and bones hanging on the charged fence, dead. Some were just about 75% dead; there eyes were blank and they just stared. Other people were still in their rooms, dead with a little crumb of bread or so. It was a very sad state of affairs. It was a foul mess and when the Russians came in and those that they could save, got assistance.

The best thing I can remember is the day they were celebrating and brought in a bunch of cognac and vodka. We were in some hall where a lot of men were congratulating one another over the end of the war. Then it was a matter of keeping up with your host. Here they were, on the road...here we were, prisoners of war. Neither of us had alcohol for ages.

Of course, some of us had made kickapoo joy juice, but that was just an isolated incident. The Russians drank us under the table; we just couldn't handle it. It was 24 hours before I knew where I was. I just lost one day, there.

The reason we weren't pulled out right away, was that Stalin wouldn't give 8th AF permission to land its' airplanes in their zone. There were negotiations between England, 8th AF, the U.S. and Moscow. I do know that after giving them some sort of concession, Eighth Air Force was allowed to come in through a narrow corridor.They couldn't shut down their engines.

Every one of those bombers was filled with all the space that was available. The C-46 and C-47's were a little different story; ( they took a better load of people). It was a matter of getting the people out,just as fast as they could. They took two days to evacuate 9500 to 10000 people. The planes landed in France and we went to Lucky Strike. Some of us found our own way to England; I was one of them, because I hitched a ride back to my squadron. Eventually I went on a C-54, from Prestwick across the northern route, and back to New York.

I was supposed to get married before I went overseas, so naturally my first thought was to get back to my fiance to see if things were still on.

Capt Archie Birkner, 509th paratrooper battalion

When I left Barth, conditions were a little unsettled. They flew us out on B-17's from the field nearby. We landed at Camp Lucky Strike and conditions were terrible. I guess we were the last ones coming through, but it felt like we were being mistreated more than back at Luft 1. Lowell Bennett got so upset with it, that he flew over to England and put in a formal complaint. Things may have improved, but I got out of there as soon as I could.

Maj. John Fischer, 355th FG

I was to go out on the last plane to from Barth. I wanted to see the Baltic before I left, so I walked up to the shore and was watching the seagulls fly. There was a Russian who looked like a Mongolian, guarding the place and he had a rifle. I pointed to the American flag on my shoulder and said: " Ya-Yits-Amerikanski Offizier. Niet Struliez". That means " I am an American Officer, don't shoot".

I looked up at the seagulls and said " Struliez ...Struliez"; So he gave me the rifle. I was looking up through the sight, but I really didn't want to shoot the birds. He taps me on the shoulder and points down the road. He says " Struliez...struliez". There, coming from Barth, was an old man and woman, with a baby carriage. He wanted me to shoot them."No thanks", I said and started back

Lt. Col. Gabreski

I think it's an individual thing about how long it takes to get back into the swing of things. It might depend on how brutal your treatment had been; the length of time and so on. I was in 10 months and it had no direct effect, except for my weight. Of course, indirectly, your thinking is changed. There's also the delayed effects of stress. I wasn't depressed, but some people were... up to the point that they moped around. Generally, we looked forward and not backward.

It was like a bad dream... an experience. Some of us had a very tough time; mine was fairly benign. The thing was... we so glad to be getting out," who the hell cares about the details of this place? How's the war doing and when can we get home?" We had come up in the depression and struggle was natural to us. You did what you had to do.

S/Sgt Hyman Hatton, 392nd BG, (letter of 17 May 45)

I am now at a general hospital in Sissone, France, about 40 miles north of Reims. I was liberated by the Russians on May 1 and flew from Barth to here. They've been taking x-rays of my back for some sort of injury I recieved when I bailed out. I'm not confined to bed, and things in general are alright. I sent Mom a wire as soon as I could, to let here know about me, and I guess she'll be glad to hear that it's all over. Boy, it's good to get out from behind that barbed wire...

One important favor I'd like to ask of you and that is to send me the addresses of all the rest of my crew. As far as I know, only five of us are alive. I was with Kennett and Smith at Luft 4, but we became separated. It's my belief that Lt. Ofenstein( and the others) went down with the airplane. However, many strange things can happen and I'd like to make sure.

I may possibly fly back to the U.S and I'm darn anxious to see you all again... I won't bother with any details of my life in Germany now or at any other time until I get home. I've been asked questions until I'm just about tired of the same old story. When you write, please let me know all about everyone back home. I've written and wired Ruth... please write soon...

Ruth Hatton

Hy had spent a whole year without proper medical attention and lost a lot of weight; the Red Cross tried to get him out, but couldn't. Hy didn't have much resources for his activities. The English had a library, so he read a lot of classics. Hy said it took his mind off the discomfort of his injuries. In his letters home, he asked for books and raisins. We did send him a sweat-er and some dried fruit but I'm not sure he got any of it.

Hy told me that, he almost had to re-learn how to walk, at that hospital in France. The last weeks at Barth had been spent on meager rations and all the guys needed rehabilita-tion for the trip home. It was determined that and that his spine had fused and they sent him home by ship.

One evening, Hy called me from Halloran Hospital in Staten Island; it was the first time I heard from him in over a year. He had not changed his mind about marriage and wanted to come to the west coast as soon as possible. He said, "Let's get on with our lives." He was given leave, with orders to report back to Ashburn General Hospital (McKinney,Texas). We saw each other again, after almost two years, in San Francisco,on July 20,1945. My two sisters and I met him at the airport and we hardly recognized him. He had lost considerable weight, but not enthusiasm. Hy didn't make much of his past suffering.

We were to be married at my sister Bertha's apartment. The house over-looked Seal Rocks, which have a magnificent view of the gateway to the Pacific Ocean. We loved that view and spent hours just gazing out that window together. I remember a news-caster reporting that the Japanese had surrendered and the war was over. On our wedding day, Hy was left much to his own devices. With a maid to care for his meals, he generally relaxed and listened to music, while indulging in a bit of champagne. He was told to be ready by 7 p.m. for the home wedding ceremony.

My sister attended to the arrangements for the buffet, wedding cake, and champagne. The flowers were arranged around the fireplace where the ceremony was to take place. The guests arrived and I dashed in from San Jose, followed by the only available clergy (to perform the ceremony).

Hy was nowhere in sight and jazz music drifted down from his room. Shortly, he appeared at the top of the stair-case, with a radio under his arm, still in fatigues. He was nowhere ready and the wedding march could not begin. My cousin's husband, Ernie, ran up the stairs, turned him around and shoved him into the shower. Somewhat later, we were married, in what I thought was the quickest ceremony I had ever attended.

Later, I learned that Hy never hurried; things al-ways seemed to go his own way, in his own time. I wasn't really upset but I had a bloomin' cold and sneezed the whole time through!

The big band era was still strong and we hopped from one nightclub to another until the wee hours of the mourn. I re-member a very special combo playing at one small lounge; as we sat around the bandstand, it rotated while they played. Neither my bloomin' cold nor the dampness of San Francisco in July, interfered with our enjoyment that nite. But we were glad to move on to the warmer climate of San Jose. We took walks down the magnolia lined streets near the State college. I noticed that Hy was still in need of rest and the warmth of Southern California seemed beneficial for him.

We had time now, to talk. During the war,I think many marriages took place with-out much planning; without thoughts of the future. We were most concerned for the safety of our individual G.I.'s. We had faith and hope that the war would end and peace would come soon. Did we plan? Did we think of the future? I don't remember us ever being afraid of life.

I knew I had limitations and I wasn't sure if I could handle the re-sponsibilities of marriage and family. Education was still uppermost in my mind then; but I had a direction...a hope for the future.

Hy, on the other hand, based his life on what he believed he could deliver. He knew how to earn a living by the time he volunteered for the service. He had supported his mother and younger brother for years. This provided some of the confi-dence he had in himself; but Hy had an inquisitive mind and a willingness to take risks in order to reach his goals. Mar-riage posed no problem, or so he thought.

He told me he would definitely take advantage of his ed-ucational benefits and work towards some degree in aviation. He had written a letter from Brazil and felt there would be opportunities after the war. They would need repair stations and he might to get some backing from an airline. With my knowledge of Spanish, the idea didn't seem so far fetched.

Compare the plans and aspirations of two young people: compatible, intelligent, eager... with a belief that life had much to offer. Was it George Bernard Shaw who said: "Youth is wasted on the young?" The exuberance of our youth (without which we would not grow) was the strength we hung on to.

We had a corny little game going. As we took our even-ing walk in San Jose, I dug my hand into my pocketbook and gave Hy a penny "for his thoughts."..."My boss back home said I could have my job back when I returned. I think I'II go back, get my job and then go see about my educational benefits." I said we should find an apartment and then, I would look for a job...maybe go to night school.

Some time in late August, we boarded a crowded train for our trip back to Halloran Hospital. Most of the time we stood at the end of the train or sat in the crowded lounge.It was heavy with smoke and noisy, al-though everyone was trying to be considerate. Luckily, we had reserved a sleeping berth for the night. It was an extra expense, but seemed reasonable for such a long journey.The next day we managed a seat.We arrived about five o'clock in the afternoon in McKinney, Texas and the business district had already closed down for the day.

Many of the G.I.'s with us, were returning from overseas. You might expect war weariness in their demeanor; their eyes told a different story. I stood and looked over the crowded train and saw an intensity in their faces; it was not anxiety, but more of a determined look. The weariness of the body did not seem to extend to the expression in their eyes. It seemed to say "There is another job to be done and I'm going to do it."

There was no exhilaration ...no back pounding... just a thought-ful, but serious intensity. I feel that intensity and deter-mination gave the drive that changed the course of events in the following era. We had an era of hope, of rebuilding...of positive expansion. I saw the same look in Hy's eyes many times.

Additional Stories:
S/Sgt. Hyman Hatton - One of the best historical documents of life at a WWII POW camp.
T/sgt. Robert Longo - Waist Gunner Rogers' crew, Down April 29 1944; Luft 1, 4 and 6
Cy Wilson Behind the Wire - Life in a Prisoner of War Camp