General Chat

What an excellent thread, this is the sort of thing the newer generations really need to know.


Here's a bump from an Aussie :)

My dad was taken prisoner in May of 1940 in Fampoux northern France, he was sent over from England with the Royal Wiltshires in 1939 as part of the British Expeditionary Force. He often said "How I ended up being put in the Wiltshires I don't know", as he was from south London.

After he was captured (many of his pals were killed or died from their wounds later) he, and thousands like him were marched most part of the way to Poland, with little food, water and clothes. I remember in parrticular him saying how when they were marched through Trier in Germany they were spat on, beaten and generally humiliated and this was by the 'ordinary Germans,' children and old men and women. He said some of them hit them with umbrellas, it being a p*ss take, as Chamberlain was still Priminister at that time.

Eventually, and after losing many poor souls on the way they reached Poland and he was sent from Lamsdorf Stalag V111B, to many differnt camps over the war years. They experienced very harsh times, it was so cold and they were often deprived of their Red Cross parcels.At one point they resorted to burning the slats on their beds to keep warm. At this point many had no shoes and had to resort to just tying rags around their feet. They were also covered in lice, which fell into their 'soup'. In the end hunger takes over dad said and you just ate the lice as well.The German guards if in a bad mood would think nothing of literally half beating a man to death and then he'd still be expected to go out and work. Dad and his fellow POW's ( Officers were exempt ) did several jobs, working in coal mines in Silesia for one, and this was whilst still being on very megre food rations. Soup mostly which consisted of warm water (if you were lucky it was warm) and raw potatoes. He and thousands of our lads were subjected to the most awful conditions and like dad always said these were ordinary Gerry soldiers who were treating them in this way. At one time they were not to far from ( Oswiecim ) Auschwitz -Birkenau, they had heard stories about this dreadful place and didn't doubt the things that went on there at all, as they were being treated so terribly themselves. I remember him telling me how once, when out working felling trees with other POW's they saw a train going to what they later guessed must have been the camp. One thing he always spoke about was the risks that the Polish people took in leaving the British POW's scraps of food where they could, they had little to give as they were starving too. It was a great risk they took, as the Germans wouldn't have thought twice about shooting them dead if they caught them.

When my dad got home in 1945, he told friends and family about the horrors he'd seen and been through, but people he said couldn't quite comprehend it all. I suppose he said, it was understandable, he too would have maybe found it hard to believe if he'd not seen it with his own eyes.

I don't think my dad ever got over the terrible things he witnessed during his time as a prisoner of war, both physically and mentally. I know that he wasn't alone and there were thousands like my dad. Their generation is gradually being lost now, my dad passed away in november 2004. He said he was one of the lucky ones...he atleast got back. We owe them so much. Also to our women folk who kept this country going working in the factories and on the land. And bringing up families on their own.

My children listened to dad's war experiences, and I know they will never forget what their grandad went through.

It must never be forgotton what went on in that war and the first world war.

Thanks for putting this thread up Lynda, makes interesting reading.

Thanks Pam, for adding that.I knew a great deal because I used to read everything, including what I was not supposed to! Also served with many Army personnel who had been in the war. This sort of thing went on in Korea I know, that was in the 1950's.

Hello Jean, yes it goes on all the time in conflicts doesn't it.

I remember saying to dad over the years did you ever feel bitter that you were in the rear guard and didn't get back to England when the Dunkirk b*lls up happenned. He always said no. He said, some of those lads that got back to home ended up as POW's and died out in the far east. He always maintained, atleast there was 'some' chance of escape in Poland, we were in Europe atleast. But those poor lads under the Japs didn't stand a chance.

You sound like you've had an interesting career and life.

Pam.

nudge

Nudged for Barbara

Thanks for nudging this up for me Lynda, will have a good read.

Nudge.

Nudged for it's monthly airing, in case there are some who haven't read it, or would like to add to it:)

good idea dont want this one to go

My mum, aunt and grandma used to make the most gorgeous underwear out of parachute nylon. It was all beautifully apliqued in pinks blues greens and yellows. Believe it or not I have the most superb pair ........ of cami knicks made in the war years. but don't wear them, too special. Elaine.

Blimey !

The mind BOGGLES

Mac

My Dad and most people of that time in London had a word that is very little used today

If you were being cheeky, or were doing things you shouldn't, or were in a place you should not have been

You were usually stopped by shouting the word GERCHA !!

It was revived in a song by Chas & Dave some time ago (70's???)

Mac

Ah yes Mac, GERCHA ! now that's a word my old dad used a lot...especially when the cat got under his feet first thing in the morning when he was getting ready for work!

I do indeed remember the song and the video that went with it.

Pam. ☺

nudge

nudge

Didn't notice this thread before. Thanks for nudging it up!

I had to laugh at myself while I was reading it. We had scarcity and rationing books here in Oz too. Maybe not quite as strict as England - but at the time, pretty close, as everything went to the 'war effort' first.

The one about the welding of the soap was what made me realise that I STILL DO IT! True!!

My mother did it then. Wouldn't replace the soap with a new bar until it was so small that we could hardly hold it - then she would weld into the new one while she had her bath. It became a habit and she did it until she died - although she didn't wait for it to be worn down so much later.

I have never been so badly off that economy demanded I do that, but because my Mum did it - I realise now that I have automatically done the same thing! See if I remember NOT to when the current bath soap wears down!

Just a nudge for new members.

And another

Mac

I'm new to these boards and I've been checking a few out each day. Yesterday I got to this one and read through the entire 33 pages. Where to start!!

I was born in 1940 and I think my first real memory is walking home with my mother in about 1943 and playing the 'can you see daddy's new house' game. The reason Daddy had a new house was that in Sepember 1940 my parents house in London was bombed. They owned the house and Mum always kept all her 'best' household stuff put away. All gone. She used to say to me 'if you have nice things, dont hoard them, use them, get the pleasure from them, dont do what I did" They lived with my aunt in Surrey for a couple of years and then bought the new house. Of course, they had very few possessions and a mortgage. 5 pounds, one and fourpence a month( sorry, my keyboard only has $), I remember and hard to come by. After the war, in about 1948-9 they got their war damage commission money. They bought 2 armchairs for the living room and one full bedroom suite and a dresser for me. Thats it. For the destruction of their whole life. So at 35 and 40 years old they had to completely start again.

I dont remember that there was gloom and doom. Just the only life I knew. Dad and I slept in the Anderson shelter a lot, Mum, who had a heart condition, slept in her bed. I didnt miss sweeties and real butter and bananas and such, because they had never existed for me. My aunt could make clothes out of anything and I usually was quite well dressed. If the bit of fabric she got hold of wasnt big enough for a whole dress, she would make a pinafore dress. If she had a bit left over I would get matching knickers. Very posh! Looking back, I would say they were happy and I wonder if I could be under such circumstances. My mother and her sisters certainly looked back with affection for those days and could laugh at all the nasty stuff..

The thing I remember most about starting school in September 1945 was that there was a big shelter in the schoolyard. I was really worried as we never went in there. This seemed very dangerous. Useless for the family to say 'the war over, we dont have bombs anymore'. War was how people lived, peace didnt mean anything to me.

One food memory and then I have to quit. A neighbor returning from North Africa in about 1946 offered me a banana. I had never seen such a thing. Ran screaming for my mother. What a wuss of a kid!

Its getting on for bedtime where I live so good night all.