‘Did you see him firing at me?’ I asked.
‘I heard the shot, and saw you going over. I assumed that he had hit you.’
‘Where did you get a gun from to shoot at my attacker?’
‘There was a soldier on guard duty near the gate, so I ran over to him and borrowed his gun. Luckily it was a Lee Enfield which I am familiar with, and I am also a marksman’
‘Thanks for protecting me. I was getting worried as I was afraid that he would get in a lucky shot sooner or later.’
There was a commotion close to the ambulance as they brought a still swearing wounded soldier to the ambulance. Two military policemen had come with the ambulance, and they left in the back with their charge.
‘I think that you have done enough for today, and the weather is getting worse. We will return to the Manor as soon as I can arrange a lift,’ the Sergeant said sympathetically for once. I didn’t know that he had a softer side.
Shortly afterwards the Major in charge of the training facility arrived to find out for himself what had happened. After he had gathered all the details, and was happy that everything was under control, he took us to the Manor in his car. An eventful morning had ended.
After what had happened that morning my training on Derwent Water went relatively smoothly and I became quite proficient. The biggest challenge I faced was moving about in the dinghy. I was too tall and too heavy. The Sergeant assured me that the boat that they would use to bring me close to Cherbourg would be a lot bigger than the Firefly, and I would have a lot more room.
Having passed my sailing challenge the next step was to do my three day orienteering test.
‘Well Markus, I am happy that you won’t drown yourself in the English Channel when you try to get to France by boat. It is now time for your orienteering test,’ the Sergeant said to me on the evening after my sailing test. ‘You will be set down close to Carlisle tomorrow morning, and you will have three days to get back to Derwent Manor. You should find it easier here than in Cornwall, and you shouldn’t meet any swamps.’
‘The weather isn’t great, and it is extremely wet, but I feel confident that I will make it. Have you any idea what the weather forecast is like for the next three days?’
‘There is rain predicted, but the cloud cover should prevent the temperature from dropping to too low a temperature.’
‘I’ll go to bed now to ensure I get a decent night’s sleep before I set off. I imagine that I won’t sleep too well for the next few nights.’
Three days later an exhausted, wet and cold Markus arrived safely back at Derwent Manor, to be greeted by a mightily relieved Sergeant Young. Compared to Cornwall the countryside had been a lot friendlier and also there hadn’t been too much rain. I was delighted to have successfully completed my orienteering test as it had been hanging over me since I had failed so miserably before Christmas. The successful completion of my trek had given me a new confidence for the mission I had to embark on in April.
The following day I packed up all my belongings and said goodbye to Derwent Manor. It had been quite a challenging experience and I felt immense satisfaction at having come through it successfully.
The Sergeant accompanied me as far as London where he had to head back down to the West Country, I returned to Witley Park from where I was due to go and experience a Prisoner of War camp. I was sorry to have to say goodbye to Paul Young at Kings Cross Station. We had become good friends in our few weeks together, and he had taught me a lot that I hoped would benefit me in the future. He was a born survivor, and I needed his skills for my task ahead.
Chapter 34
Major Richards, in welcoming me back, was delighted to hear that I had passed both my sailing and orienteering tests.
‘Well done Markus. You have now completed all aspects of your official training so we can now get on to perfecting your story. You must know every aspect of it so well that it will stand up to whatever pressure they put you under to try and get the truth.’
‘By pressure, you mean torture Sir.’
‘Yes by pressure I do mean torture, although, if we get the process right, then they will have no need to torture you.’
‘When do I have to go to the POW camp in Taunton?’
‘You can take tomorrow off to recover from your trip to Derwent Water. We will then take you there the following day. A week of total immersion in the camp should be enough for you to fully absorb what life is like in a POW camp.’
‘Do you think that I will be in danger from the other inmates Major?’
‘No, we can make it look like you have just been transferred to the Taunton camp from Yorkshire. Your story is that you were held in an interrogation centre near Harrogate, and then spent four months in a POW camp close to Catterick.’ The Major leant back in his chair and related my story matter-of-factly. It all sounded terribly convincing.
‘How will I be able to describe the camp at Catterick as I haven’t been there?’
‘I have obtained a collection of photographs of the camp and the everyday life in the Catterick camp will closely match the one you will experience in Taunton. I don’t need to tell you that your story will have to be perfect before you are allowed to set off for France.’
‘We’ll talk again after you get back here from Taunton. I am sorry, but you will be taken to Taunton under guard, and you will also have to wear your old Luftwaffe uniform which, with a bit of luck, will still fit you.’
‘It will be a strange experience wearing my old uniform again and going back to live as a German prisoner. I hope that I don’t give the game away.’
‘Good luck Markus. I will see you when they come to pick you up shortly after breakfast on Thursday. In the meantime relax and learn your story so as it is word perfect. I have had an envelope left on your bed, which contains all the relevant information you will need. Memorise every little detail.’
I left the Major’s office and went up to my room. I now would have to prepare mentally for what lay ahead which would be the hardest part of the whole exercise. I found the envelope on my bed and inside were pictures of the POW camp in Catterick. There was also a plan of the camp showing where all the facilities were, so, with these two prompts, I familiarised myself with the layout.
As well as the photographs and the plan there was a list of the prisoners being held in the camp. The list included their ranks and the units that they had served in. In addition, there were some personal details of some of the men, mainly individuals that were the same age as me and who I would have naturally palled up with. I was extremely impressed, the Major had thought of everything, and I spent the next day and a half absorbing the information in the envelope. A nervous energy drove me on.
Suitably dressed and prepared I was ready and waiting in the reception area of Witley Manor on Thursday morning. Major Richards approached me.
‘Are you ready for your next adventure Markus?’
‘I think that I have covered everything, but I am feeling decidedly nervous,’ I replied.
‘Just remember that you don’t have to offer much information. Only provide information to a superior officer and only if you are asked. I suggest that you demonstrate a grumpy disposition and snap at people who ask you questions. They will then leave you alone.’
‘That sounds like a good plan. I will give the impression of being totally pissed off with life and disgruntled at being a POW.’
‘Here comes your guard with their truck.’
The truck pulled up in front of the entrance and we went out to greet it. A corporal climbed out of the front seat and came over to us.
‘Corporal this is the prisoner that you will be taking to Taunton. See to it that he doesn’t escape,’ the Major ordered.
‘Yes Sir,’ the corporal replied.
‘He has been held here for interrogation and has been ver
y helpful so don’t be too hard on him.’
‘Yes Sir.’
‘Here are the papers to travel with him. You must personally make sure that these papers are given to the senior officer at the camp and I am holding you responsible for delivering them.’
‘Yes Sir, you can rely on me to deliver him safely; Sir.’
The corporal took the papers from Major Richards and brought me over to the rear of the truck.
‘Climb in,’ he instructed me.
I climbed up into the back where there were two privates armed with rifles sitting on either side of the opening. I was pushed by one of the soldiers towards the front, and made to sit down.
‘Sit there and don’t budge. If you try to make a run for it we will shoot,’ one of the privates said with great menace.
It was going to be hard to get used to life as a prisoner; however, it was only for a week so I would survive.
The truck was the most uncomfortable means of transportation I had ever had to use. The wooden bench seats along the side of the truck where really hard and the truck bounced at any slight bump in the road. I was bruised and tender by the time that we arrived at the gates to the camp. We passed through two entrance gates and stopped in front of a large black hut where I was pulled roughly from the back. I was marched into the building with one soldier at each elbow.
‘Name?’ An officious sergeant barked out at me.
‘Oberleutnant Markus Bekker,’ I replied in a confident voice.
‘Age?’
‘Twenty-four.’
‘Your Luftwaffe Squadron?’
‘I don’t have to give you that information under the Geneva Convention,’ I replied.
‘Don’t be a smart ass with me young fellow. I need to know your squadron.’
‘Well I am not going to give it to you as I am not obliged to give it.’
The Sergeant turned to a Corporal who was standing close by with two privates.
‘Take this block head to the cell in the guard house and lock him away until he is willing to give us the information we need.’
With that my arms were grabbed, and I was frog marched out of the presence of the Sergeant and towards a particularly drab looking building close by. As I was being marched I looked around me. About twenty meters away there was the main area of the camp surrounded by two high fences containing masses of barbed wire. Beyond that, I could see a lot of long low huts and the prisoners wandering around.
They didn’t bring me into the compound but marched me to the isolated building. Inside there were a number of cells. They opened one and threw me inside.
There was no heating in the building and the place was freezing. I didn’t have many clothes on, so I rapidly reached an uncomfortable temperature. There was a horrible smell of disinfectant.
‘Hello, can you hear me?’ a voice called out.
I was so tied up in my own misfortune that I didn’t hear clearly at first.
‘Hello, can you hear me?’ the voice called out again.
I moved towards the door. ‘Yes, I can hear you. How long have you been in here?’
‘I was thrown in here yesterday, and I spent the whole night here. I am absolutely frozen. Who are you?’
‘My name is Markus Bekker, and I have just arrived at the camp.’
‘Hi, my name is Lothar Meier, and I have been in this camp for seven months.’
‘How did you get captured,’ I asked
‘I was co-pilot of a bomber, and we got shot down on a night bombing raid to the midlands of England. I managed to parachute down, but most of the rest of my crew perished. How about you?’
‘I was a Me109 pilot and got shot down over Kent. I was lucky enough not to be injured, and I parachuted down.’
‘When did you get shot down?’
‘It was last July during the Battle of Britain.’
‘Why are you only getting to this camp now?’
‘I was interrogated in a large house near Harrogate for at least two months, and then moved to a camp in Catterick, in the North of England. Have you been here all the time?’
‘I broke my leg when I landed, so they brought me to a hospital first and then when I was able to walk they transferred me here.’
‘Why have they locked you up in this guard house Lothar?’
‘I got involved in a fight with a cocky 109 pilot.’ I heard him laugh. ‘Why are you in here Markus?’
‘I refused to give the Sergeant my Luftwaffe squadron number when he was taking down my details’
‘It sounds as if you encountered our stupid prick Sergeant ‘Mad-dog’. Keep away from him as he is always looking for an excuse to throw you in here and he is always barking at you.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind for the future. I’ll talk to you later Lothar.’
‘Keep warm Markus.’ I heard him chuckle again.
I thought to myself - That was particularly useful. Getting thrown in the brig would help authenticate my story. I hadn’t planned it, but I was getting credibility and a reason that I had been moved from Yorkshire. I was a troublemaker.
Chapter 35
A few hours later I heard the main door to the guard house open and my door was unlocked. The Corporal stuck his head into the cell.
‘Up you get. The Colonel wants to see you.’
I decided to keep my mouth shut and just go along with them.
‘Goodbye Lothar,’ I called out as I left my cell
‘Good luck Markus, I hope that I don’t see you back here.’
This time I was allowed to walk on my own and the two guards didn’t grab my arms. My small group marched over to what looked like an administrative building. The complex was also outside the main confines of the camp.
We entered the building and approached a door.
‘Wait here,’ the Corporal instructed.
He knocked on the door and immediately opened it. I didn’t catch what he said.
‘You can go in. When you enter, salute the Colonel’
I entered the room and saluted the Colonel who was standing behind his desk. I expected to see a young man, but the Colonel was in his late fifties or perhaps even early sixties. He had an impressive head of silvery grey hair and a large handle bar moustache. His twinkling eyes were on the move assessing me.
‘Sit down Oberleutnant Bekker,’ he said with a surprisingly strong voice, obviously used to taking charge.
‘Thank you Sir.’
‘You haven’t made my job easy have you, getting disciplined so early in your stay with us.’
‘The Sergeant annoyed me with his attitude, but, on reflection, I think that it might help my credibility.’
‘That is as maybe, but you have still given me a problem. I am going to have you sent to the main camp which isn’t going to impress my Sergeant as he would like you incarcerated until at least tomorrow in the guard house’
‘Thank you Sir and I am sorry for causing you a problem.’
‘I’ll get over it and anyway he was a bit hasty in having you locked up. You are within your rights under the Geneva Convention not to give your squadron number, and I do try to stay within the rules’
‘I will try and stay out of trouble for the rest of my time here, and I appreciate you letting me out.’
‘Let’s hope that the rest of the week goes smoothly’ He got up and opened the door.
‘Corporal, take this prisoner through to the camp and see that he meets Major Horst Winkel or one of the other senior German officers.’
This time we marched towards the entrance in the barbed wire fence. Once through there I was taken to a hut in the middle of the block. The Corporal went inside and came back with an extremely serious but elegant looking Major from the Wehrmacht. He and his two guards l
eft me in the presence of the Major.
‘Oberleutnant, my name is Major Winkel, and I am the most senior German officer in this camp. You will take your orders from me and not from the British.’
I stood to attention and clicked my heels, ‘Sir, my name is Oberleutnant Markus Bekker of the Luftwaffe, and I have been moved here from a camp in Yorkshire.’
‘You are welcome Oberleutnant. Come inside and we will talk together for a few minutes before I assign you a bed in one of the huts. I need to know something about you before I put you in with a group.’
We went down the length of the hut until we came to a separate room at the end which I gathered was the private room of the Major.
‘Tell me what has happened to you since you were taken prisoner until you arrived here today. You don’t have to go into too much detail; I will ask you specific questions if I need more information.’
I then related the story to him that I had prepared with the assistance of Major Richards. Major Winkel sat there in front of me nodding his head as I gave him all the details.
‘What happened when you arrived this morning?’ Major Winkel asked as I neared the end of my story.
‘They asked me for my squadron number, and I refused to give it to them. I was then locked up in an isolation cell.’
‘I suppose it was that twit Sergeant ‘Mad-dog’ up to his usual tricks.’
‘Yes, it was the Sergeant.’
‘How come that they have let you out so quickly?’
‘They took me to the camp commander, and he told me that I was being released and sent into the main camp. He told the guards to bring me to see you. He said that he was releasing me as he wanted the camp to operate under the normal rules outlined in the Geneva Convention.’
‘The Colonel is from the old school; he served in the First World War and was brought back out of retirement to run this camp. He’s not too bad.’
‘I didn’t expect to be treated so civilly having been locked up for a while. He struck me as being a gentleman.’
War Brothers Page 19
