As the 80th anniversary of VE day approaches on the 8th of May, we wanted to share an extract from one of our archives.

"For you the War is over" Prisoner of War Recollections 1944-1945  was written by ON Maurice E Jones who attended Adams from 1935 - 1942. If you would like to read the whole short book, copies can be purchased from the Soldiers of Shropshire Museum (formerly the Shropshire Regimental Museum) at Shrewsbury Castle. The extract has been reproduced with permission from the museum. 

Maurice was serving as a Section Leader of No. 3 Section, 7 Platoon, C Company, 1st Battalion of King's Shropshire Light Infantry. He was taken by the Germans in October 1944. 

LAMSDORF TO KASSEL, AND HOME 

(The Death March) 

22 January 1945 saw a bright blue sky to accompany a couple of feet of snow on the ground and bitterly cold wind. It is recorded that on this day the temperature at Lamsdorf was minus 35 degrees Centigrade (Page 155, 'Prisoners of the Reich' by David Ralf). At 10 am over the loudspeakers came the surprise announcement, 'Compounds 1, 2, 3 and 4 will be ready to march in one hour. One blanket only to be carried'. Parading as ordered we expected to be on our way very soon but we were kept standing on the main avenue of the camp. It appears that all but 2,500 POWs were marched out of the camp in columns 2,000 strong. Eventually having been counted recounted and counted again just to be sure, issued with a Red Cross parcel per man and a loaf of bread to every two men, we were on our way. By this time, it was dark, but the whiteness of the snow illuminated the flat uninteresting countryside. The Germans decided to move us as quickly as possible, we could hear artillery fire and see the red glow in the sky in the direction of Oppeln. Water and electricity had failed in the camp, no doubt this acted as a spur to the Germans who wanted to get away from the area so as not to be captured or killed by the Russians. With the snow packed down tightly on the roads every man in the column fell at least once or twice that night. German troops, horse drawn artillery and other wagons were making their way eastwards to help halt the Russian advance. The rate of marching was quite ridiculous and soon the rear of the column was straggling badly as they strove to keep up with the front. The German troops heading eastwards forced us off the roadway into the deep snow as they passed. I remember a company of young brown uniformed Todt Organization marching, singing in the most ridiculous manner, whilst carrying shovels and picks. 

It would have been very easy to escape during this march but where would an escapee have gone? All the farmhouses were being turned into strong points and the only place to find food would have been in those houses. To be caught stealing food as an escaped POW would most likely have meant death. The soldiers had too much to do to be bothered with an escaped POW, so a bullet would have so easily have solved the problem. In addition to this danger, one has to remember that the Russians, if one was lucky enough to reach them, had never seen a British uniform, they could not speak English, we could not speak Russian and they were known to be less than sympathetic towards any person who was not Russian. (It is now known that over 3,000 British POWs who had fallen into the hands of the Russians at this time are still missing in the year 2000.  

Eventually after marching for some 4 hours we were herded into an open barn to rest for 3 hours. I opened a tin of salmon from my Red Cross parcel, it was cold and ice particles were present. It had to be eaten with a spoon and a lump of bread but it tasted good, as I had had nothing to eat for some 18 hours. Sleep did not come and as soon as it began to get daylight we were off again at the same breakneck pace, which continued throughout this day and the next with only a short halt of about 5 hours during the night. This was something we were not fit to continue, muscles ached and cramp set in. The march continued for about 5 days in driving snow, bitterly cold wind and no food provided by the Germans - they had given each man a Red Cross parcel so presumably they considered we had sufficient food. There was no way to obtain a hot drink. Nights were spent in fitful exhausted sleep and at dawn marching again. I had a talk with those of my group still with me and the decision was made to reduce the rate of progress. Next morning 5 of us formed the first file of the column (Tom Lowe, Fred Trotter, Eyre, Crompton and myself.  

On the command from the Feldwebel (sergeant) we set off at a very sedate pace so very soon the Feldwebel and his merry men were quite a long way ahead of us. They stopped, looked back shouted, 'Schnell, Schnell', but we ignored them and continued as before. They became rather abusive and threatening, but we continued at our own pace. At last they accepted that we were not going to march faster so gave up shouting. That night the column was well closed up when we halted and the men at the rear had had a much easier time. We continued to lead the column each day with the Germans accepting the situation. 

Having marched for about 10 days we had travelled 150 miles to Stalag VIII A at Gorlitz. We had spent nights in barns and any building that was handy. The last 2 days there had been nothing to eat. I was told that half the RAF POWs managed to reach Gorlitz. What had become of the remainder, I have no idea. 

We spent several days in Stalag VIII A, the dirtiest camp I had been in, but my criticism may be unjust for in addition to it being a multinational camp the snow and slush/mud contributed. Strangely I cannot recall the accommodation at this Stalag, but no doubt we were under cover and in some kind of hut. We were paraded to move on, bearing in mind we had been told by the Germans that we would remain here until finally released by the Russians. 

On the 10 February the weather was at its usual atrocious best when we marched out. At first we did not lead the column but after a couple of days we decided to resume our leading role. Several days after leaving Gortitz a steady thaw set in making marching much easier. It was extremely tiring marching over rutted frozen snow. The thaw forced the German refugees, who had been using horse drawn sleighs to abandon them, causing no little suffering, but we had our own worries. Food was very scarce if not absent. Our Red Cross parcels received at Lamsdorf had long since been eaten. A few days later a severe drop in the temperature again brought much discomfort, for although the snow had disappeared, ice and very cold winds had taken over. 

Day after day the routine was the same march, march, march. One night we had a good comfortable billet, being put into the riding school, sleeping on the tan, in the German cavalry barracks at Bautzen, but this was an exception. Sometimes hot coffee or thin watery soup, bread and a small cube of margarine or very rarely sausage, or worse still 'fish cheese'. What it really consisted of I never knew, it was vile, but edible and that meant life. As usual some barn or part derelict building was our resting place from dark until daylight saw us on the move again. One night we had been herded into a building where the only place I could find to lie down was on a pile of building sand. I was stupid enough to remove my boots before trying to sleep or suffering the coldest night I spent undercover. Next morning I discovered just how stupid I had been for my boots were frozen solid and my feet, already swollen, just would not go into my boots. For many minutes I struggled, without success and was becoming extremely worried about the consequences of not being able to get them on. At long last I was so gratefully relieved to finally get into my boots, which remained like iron for the best part of an hour afterwards. I had learned a lesson and never removed my boots again. 

The march route was roughly as follows: Garlitz - Bautzen - Dresden - Meissen - Chemnitz- Gera - Jena - Weimar - Erfurt - Gotha - Eisenach to Duderstadt, thence by ambulance to Kassel. The mileage is very difficult to calculate for we were marching on cart tracks, unmade road and only once for a very short distance on an Autobahn which was surfaced with cobblestones (granite blocks) for such roads were originally built for military use, i.e. tanks and very heavy vehicles. Such vehicles could not have travelled on the roads we were normally on or they would have sunk into the earth. Maybe we had gone onto the Autobahn when we crossed the River Elbe at Meissen on the 17 February. The entire journey had been calculated by someone as 850 kilometres i.e. 500 miles (the distance from Shrewsbury to Wick in Scotland is 519 miles). I do not recall passing through a town of any size but the Germans may have decided it inadvisable to do so. They certainly avoided Dresden. 

One day we were halted some miles from a rather large town when, to our consternation, the German escort was doubled or trebled. We were ordered to march in silence and at a quicker pace than hitherto. Having marched for several hours we were again halted, most of the escort left us and the march resumed. We learned from one or two of the escorts that we had just passed Dresden, which at that time meant nothing to us. (It was not until much later in England that we learned of the 24 hour destruction of that city by night by the RAF and by day by the United States Air Force on the 13 February 1945 - this was the one and only time Dresden was bombed in the entire war). We were informed that the extra guards were for our protection as it was considered possible the civilian population of Dresden might be inclined to take revenge, which at this stage of the war would have been most unwelcome when many Germans were beginning to feel the urge to fraternize to some extent in the hope of escaping reprisals. The words 'Deutschland kaput' were already on the lips of many Germans even if a few clung to the propaganda that Hitler had a secret weapon capable of reversing the progress of the Allies. 

Nevertheless it was a surprise when, passing through a German village, a German soldier, wearing the Iron Cross on his pocket but on a crutches {having lost a leg), standing on the edge of the footpath as we passed, said quite loudly to us 'It's a long way to Tipperary Tommy, but it won't be for long”. Then in another village a woman stepped off the footpath, brushed against one of the POWs at the same time pushing a newspaper into his hand, this was a blessing, as we had heard no news of the war for a very long time. 

 Food had been very short for several days before we reached the vicinity of Weimar where we halted for 2 maybe 3 days as our condition was becoming obvious to the German escort. Here we were surprised and grateful to be given extra bread and hot soup together with hot coffee, imitation of course, our escort told us it was from the population of the City. 

Again we were on the road to somewhere, the German escort appeared to have no idea where we were going nevertheless they were happy to be moving westwards away from the Russians. The weather now improved, the cold wind had abated and at times the sun shone, the temperature was rising as spring approached. The column was now very much smaller than a few weeks ago. Suddenly we found ourselves no longer with an escort of soldiers, we had been handed over to the Volksturm, the German Home Guard, old men of the peasant type apparently recruited to relieve pressure on the German Army, who left only 1 or 2 NCOs to be in charge of things. The Volksturm did not wear uniform, their identifying mark being an armband bearing the name "Volksturm·. They were very much afraid of us for whilst the soldiers tended to turn a blind eye when one or two POWs broke ranks to grab a swede or turnip from a roadside field, the opposite was the case with the Volksturm who would not hesitate to shoot at anyone attempting to forage in this way. 

The weather became much warmer as we reached the end of March, but it was still quite cold at night. The men were not in a condition to appreciate the weather. Men were falling out fast by the roadside as weakness from malnutrition took its toll. For my part, I was nearer to collapse than I wanted to admit. Hoping for release, my thoughts were that, I must hang on to get to a British hospital for such was my faith in British doctors that I convinced myself that if I made it, I would be all right. 

One day we arrived at a town named Duderstadt where we found ourselves in a brick factory with little or no shelter and even less food. Here I gave my watch and fountain pen to a German in exchange for 4 crusts of bread; I say crusts, for that is precisely what they were. 

The column was breaking up and there were few men who could continue the march. We were informed the column was to divide, half to go to Frankfurt and half to Hanover. I found there was a British Army Medical Officer present so I presented myself before him. I didn't speak and he didn't examine me but told me to join a group of about 40 men, British and American, sitting on the grass nearby. In due course we were told by a British corporal to follow him to a wooden hut not far away. There was straw on the floor round the perimeter of the room so we flopped down on to ii. A German Unteroffizier told us he was to look after us. During the next seven days we spent there we received some hot coffee, bread, I think it was a loaf between 6 men, and possibly some soup but the latter is a hazy memory. Each night we lost one of our number, sometimes two, their bodies were taken away before we stirred ourselves next morning. It was a worrying thought that one night it could be me but I was determined to get to a British hospital even when lying next to me, a Staff Sergeant Glider pilot, told me he had given up hope of survival and just wanted to go to sleep and not wake up. 

On one of two evenings a German Medical Officer entered the hut, examined us and gave one or two what he called an 'orange' which consisted of an injection in the buttock. What good it did I have no idea for on the one occasion when I was so treated I felt no different from normal, certainly no improvement in my health. 

7th, April 1945 came along with the German Unteroffizier saying to us, 'The Americans are 20 miles away". Another stupid rumour so far as we were concerned, but we clung to the possibility. On 9th, April he came to us in civilian clothes announcing that the Americans were very close and we would not see him again. With that he disappeared. We had had no food for 24 hours and for most of us time was running out.