by Griff Hosker
I was feeling more confident but I knew we still had many miles to go and the closer we came to the camp and the factory the more soldiers we would find. We turned south and east. Dunderstadt was a bigger place. In fact it was the last big place we would have to pass.
“Slow down, White.” I took out the glasses and scanned the town. There had been factories there and they had been bombed. It was a scene of devastation. The bombing was not recent. There was no sign of smoke but nothing had been rebuilt. “Drive through, slowly. Fletcher, get your gun and a grenade ready.” My caution was due to the Nazi flag flying from one of the few buildings which was still standing. I knew that might have been because they did not know the allies were so close but, equally, it could indicate that there were fanatics here.
The roads had not been cleared of rubble. White had to negotiate some quite large pieces. It was as we turned a corner around a half destroyed church that we saw the German half-track. It had an MG 42 mounted above the driver. The crew had not seen us and were sitting at a table eating. Nearby was a lorry. As they saw us, they reacted. They grabbed weapons and the crew of the half-track hurried back on board. I heard the crack of Davis rifle and the gunner slumped backwards. I cocked the MP 40 and sent a burst at the men trying to get aboard the half-track. Fletcher did the same.
“Foot hard down, Sam!”
As the jeep leapt forward bullets filled the space we had just occupied. I heard Fletcher shout, “Grenade!” as we raced by the half-track. I sprayed the tyres and engine of the truck. We had just passed the end of the German truck when the grenade exploded in the half track. I heard my men in the other jeeps firing at the Germans. There was another explosion and I turned to see the truck on fire. The Germans now knew there were Commandos in their backyard. I saw a telephone pole. The wire ran to the building with the Nazi flag.
“Stop here. Fletcher keep them in the building.”
I jumped out and tied a pair of German grenades to the telephone pole. The other jeeps pulled next to me. “Keep going. We will follow.” They zoomed off. Fletcher fired a burst at the door and the German who had come out to see what was going on jumped back inside. I tied a long piece of parachute cord to the two lanyards and climbed back in. “Drive.”
The cord triggered the grenades. We were fifty yards down the road when the grenade brought down the telephone pole and the wire. I had seen no sign of an antenna. I hoped that word of our presence would not spread.
As we raced towards our next way point, Bischofferode, I checked the map. We had less than twenty six miles to go to Mittelbau-Dora. We were making good time. I was, however, worried about the Germans being alerted. I knew we had to turn at Bischofferode. We would head north east. I could see the mountains already. We were close enough that the road was climbing already. There were also more trees. That was good for it meant we had more cover. Bischofferode was just as quiet as the other small hamlets and I pointed to the road to the left as we passed through. I saw faces behind windows and hoped they did not have a telephone.
We made six miles without seeing a soul. This was a an empty part of Germany. Mackenrode was just as small as Bischofferode had been. As we drove through I began to plan for the actual raid on the factory. We had just left the village and were descending down a small road through the forest when Fletcher said, “Stop sir! Sergeant Major Barker has a problem. He has stopped.”
I jumped out and, taking my gun, ran back to the stricken jeep. “What is it Gordy?”
“Puncture sir.”
Freddie was already on the job. Sometimes it is easy to change a tyre and sometimes the wheel nuts refuse to come off. So it was that day. The wheel nuts refused to budge. Gordy said, “You lads go on sir. We’ll fix it and catch up with you.”
“No Gordy. We abandon no-one.”
While most of us kept watch Emerson and Gordy struggled with the tyre. “It is a bloody saboteur tyre! I bet it was made in Germany!”
Eventually, after much cursing and swearing, it was changed. By the time we left and continued into the mountains it was dark. I did not want to risk driving with lights and we could not afford to drive in the dark. That invited an even greater disaster.
Fletcher had sharp eyes. “There sir, to the left of the road down that track. It looks like a building. I can’t see any lights or smell smoke.”
It was convenient for the track was lined by ancient fruit trees. There was cover. We drove down the farm track slowly. The building was not only deserted, it was partly wrecked. It had been a farm. There were outbuildings which looked to have suffered damage too. Fletcher and I jumped out and went to investigate. As we went around the rear, to the wrecked part, I saw the reason. The wing of a Flying Fortress had fallen on the house. Other debris looked to have fallen on the barn and cow byre. I saw that the engine had been removed. This was an old accident but it gave us the chance to have some shelter.
“Put the jeeps around the back. Bring our gear in. Fletcher and I will check out the interior.”
There was little in the house. It looked as though it had been stripped of anything worth taking. “Fletcher find somewhere that you can light a fire. We might as well have a brew. I’ll go and find water.” Sam came in with our Bergens. “White go and check the outbuildings. See what you can find and make sure we are alone.”
I saw that the sink had been destroyed and there were the broken ends of pipes. This looked to be an old farm. I went out of the back and saw an old fashioned hand pump. It was stiff but after a few pumps water came out. I went back inside and brought out a couple of dixies to collect the water. I heard Fletcher shout, “We have fire, sir.”
I looked and could detect no light, “Good.”
Just then there was a whistle from the barn. It was White. I drew my gun and ran towards the barn. Same had his own Colt out and he gestured towards the upper hay store. He said, “There is someone up there, sir.”
“Could it have been an animal?”
“No sir. Smell. That is human.”
He was right. It was human sweat. I spoke in German, “We know you are hiding. Come down and I promise that you will not be hurt.”
I was greeted by silence.
I repeated myself and again there was nothing. “White nip up the ladder and I will cover you.” Although it was dark I could see that there was only one way up and one way down. I held my gun in a two handed grip.
I heard White say, in German, “I can see you! The Major means you no harm. We are English.” There was a rustling and hay fell down. I saw a figure rise. I was not even sure if it was human for it looked like a scarecrow with most of the stuffing missing. I saw White helping the figure. I stepped away from the ladder. The man, I could see he was a man from his beard, was wearing striped trousers and a top. He was a prisoner from the slave labour camps.
I holstered my weapon. When he reached the bottom I spoke to him in German, “You are safe now, my friend. We are English Commandos.”
His face broke into a smile. I saw that he had no teeth, “English?” I nodded. He grabbed my hand. His fingers were just bone covered with skin. I saw a tattooed number on his forearm. “I am Pál Radnóti.”
White had reached the bottom of the ladder. He suddenly started speaking in a language I had never heard before. The man’s smile became even broader and he jabbered back in the same language. It was frustrating because none of the words was in the least familiar. Sam turned to me. He is a Hungarian Jew, sir. He escaped from a sub camp at the Mittelbau-Dora complex. He has been hiding here for four days.”
“Come on, let’s get him into the main building and get some food inside him. He is a walking corpse.”
As we walked in my men all turned. Gordy said, “What the bloody hell is that, sir? I have seen more meat on a sparrow.”
“He is one of the slave labourers. Foster, there is some water outside. Go and fetch it in and put it on Fletcher’s fire to heat up. This chap needs food.”
Hewitt shook his, “Solid food migh
t kill him, sir. I’ll make some soup. We have a little bread left. I will break that up and soak it in the soup. He needs warmth as much as anything. Betts, go and fetch a blanket.”
Emerson was smoking a cigarette and the man held out a hand and nodded. Fred lit a second and gave it to him, “You look like you need it. Did Jerry do this to him, sir?”
Sam answered, “Pál is one of the lucky ones. He told me that up to five hundred a month have been dying in the camps. Others were taken away and were never seen again. He thinks that they were murdered and buried in a mass grave.”
“Ask him if he worked at the main camp.”
There was a conversation and then Sam said, “No sir. He was at a sub camp. The one at Mittelbau-Dora is enormous. There are more than a hundred and fifty guards as well as twenty S.S. He was sent to a smaller one with just two hundred and fifty inmates.” Sam pointed north. “It is five miles north of here, sir.” Sam shook his head, “I thought we were tough sir but he made it here in this condition. It is nothing short of a miracle.”
Foster was adding the bouillon cubes to the soup. I saw Davis adding lumps of corned beef. We had to keep him alive. He might just give us the edge that we needed. “Ask him if he is willing to show us the camp.”
Sam looked appalled, “Sir, you can’t ask him to go back.”
“What is the alternative, White, leave him here? We have a mission to complete. He is better off with us wouldn’t you say?”
“You are right sir. Sorry sir.” He turned and spoke to the Hungarian. The man nodded. “Yes sir. He has friends there. His wife and children are dead but his friends and his brother are still in the camp. He said he was worried that they were getting rid of the evidence. He ran because he thought they were going to kill him too. Apparently they drew lots and he was chosen. They want the world to know what the S.S. did.”
“And they will. You and Hewitt look after him. Lieutenant Poulson, let us look at the map. We might be able to work out where this sub camp is.”
As I unfolded it Lieutenant Poulson said, “Aren’t we bothering with Mittelbau-Dora then sir?”
“We will get there but this is closer and it sounds to me like they are going to kill the inmates. We might be too late but…”
“You are right sir. How can one human being do that to another?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
My men fussed around the Hungarian as though he was a new born. Sam translated their questions and I studied the map. When we looked at the map there were two likely targets: Guidersleben and Woffleben. They were both on the way to Mittelbau-Dora. I pointed at the two places. “We will try these first. From what Pál told us we might already be too late.”
“It will be a tricky mission, sir. Some of these slave labourers could get killed in the crossfire.”
“Then we will have to be careful.”
“And what about this big camp, Mittelbau-Dora, it seems a bigger nut to crack than we first thought.”
“You are right. However, rather than speculating I would rather see the size of the problem first. Although I do have an answer. The Americans. When we get there I will send a jeep with the Hungarian in to find the Americans. The 3rd Armour has the firepower to overcome the opposition.”
Lieutenant Poulson nodded and I folded up the map. He said, “You know, sir, I never thought we would end the war like this. I thought it would be like Normandy. There would be a huge push and we would be part of it. We seem to be cut off from it now.”
“I know what you mean. Are you still keen to stay in?”
“Yes sir. When I joined up it was just for the duration but I like this man’s army. I like the blokes who are in it. The Commandos change the chaps who come in and make them better people, Beaumont, Fletcher, Emerson, even Davis. None of them are the same chaps who joined up. I have no idea what they will do in civvy street but they will be more likely to succeed now. I want to keep on doing that.”
“And the others? Gowland, Shepherd, Crowe… the list is a long one.”
“That is the part of the job I don’t like.”
I nodded and stood, “And that is why I am not staying in. Dad stayed in but it was different for him. It was about the flying. When he was in Persia he was like a flying policeman. No, Polly, the next few months, until we beat Adolf, will be my last ones in a uniform.”
Before I turned in I spoke with Sam. He confirmed that the subcamp was at Woffleben. “I think there are thirty S.S. and guards and about two hundred prisoners. They are all men. The women and children were taken away.”
“Taken away?”
“Pál seemed to think they were taken away to be executed.”
We had a rota to keep watch on the jeeps. When I was woken it was for the 0300 shift. Foster was with me. I went outside and, in the far distance I could hear gunfire. It carried on the night air. It sounded to be in the west. It highlighted just how far our necks were stuck out. We had wriggled our way well behind the enemy lines. Now we were trapped. There would be no easy way out of this. Even if we did our job we would have to fight our way back to our own lines. Our only hope was the Americans. Ominously I had heard no tanks. The 3rd Armour would not be moving silently. Perhaps they had been held up as we had at Kassel and Rheda. The Brigadier had thought that we would have support. It seemed he was wrong.
We left just after dawn. My men had all donated bits of kit so that Pál was now more warmly dressed. He had eaten soup and some porridge. He looked better for it. Fletcher moved to Emerson’s jeep so that Sam could translate for. He could have spoken German but Pál’s German was not the best. He had learned it in the camp. We needed the precision of his own language.
I drove the few miles to the sub camp. “White, when we go into action I want you to watch Pál.”
“But sir, that will leave you one gun light.”
“It can’t be helped. Pál is living proof of what the Germans did. He has to testify so that the perpetrators of this horror can be punished. From what he said the Germans are trying to wipe away the evidence of what they have done.”
I did not drive fast. Our engines were noisy enough without revving them so that they would be heard. Pál spoke to Sam who said, “Sir, the entrance is half a mile away. It is on the other side of that hill.”
I saw that there was a field close to the trees and the hill. I drove in and parked the jeep next to the stone wall. The others followed me. “Grab your weapons. I am leaving Sam and Pál here. We climb the hill and the camp is on the other side.”
I led with Davis and his sniper rifle. I could see the higher peaks beyond us. The camps were all close to the mines where they had hollowed out factories. Pál had described the camp and we had a good idea of what it looked like. The huts for the prisoners were raised from the ground so that the inmates could not tunnel out. There was wire all the way around and four guard towers with machine guns and, at night, lights. There was a barracks for the guards and a house for the commandant. A generator gave power for the lights. I was not necessarily intending to attack straightaway. I wanted to recce the position. We did not have enough men for a direct assault. When we were just below the crest of the hill we dropped to all fours and crawled.
We moved through the trees and saw, two hundred below us in a cleared bowl of land, the camp. It was as Pál had described it. I saw to the left of us a path which led down. The two hundred feet were almost vertical. It was as though it had been gouged away to reveal the slave camp. I saw that the gates to the camp were open and there were four lorries and a Kubelwagen. Someone was leaving.
Davis tugged at my arm and pointed to the far side of the camp. I took out my glasses. The prisoners were lined up and there were guards with guns. Other prisoners were in a trench digging. Then I felt a chill. It was not a trench. It was a grave. I saw, just behind them a freshly covered pile of earth. There were just eighty or so prisoners left. They were getting rid of the evidence. I saw the Germans setting up a machine gun.
“Davis,
they are going to shoot the prisoners. We will try to stop them. If they line them up to execute them then kill the machine gunners.”
“Sir.”
I turned to my men, “Quick, follow me. We have very little time if we are going to save these men.”
The path wound down through the trees and followed the top of the cliff. It descended quickly. We should have been more cautious but we had all seen what they were about to do. Pál’s words had had an effect on my men. They knew the calibre of the monsters who called themselves men. We moved as fast as was humanly possible. At one point I almost stumbled but managed to grab a tree and stop myself tumbling down the hillside.
When we reached the bottom we were hidden from the camp. There was a wider track with tyre marks. I saw the cut trunks of trees. They had used it for logging. I cocked my gun as we ran along it. I had seen, from the hill top, that all of the guards appeared to be gathered around the prisoners. The buildings would hide us from the Germans but there was only one gate and that was at the front.
“Lieutenant Poulson, when we get near to the camp take Gordy, Reed and Foster. Position yourselves so that you can shoot through the wire. I will take the rest and go in through the front gate.”
“Sir.”
As we turned a bend in the track I saw the camp ahead. Polly peeled off with his men and I led the rest. I heard a single gunshot from the camp and then a moment later a shout. As we cleared the building I saw two dead Germans and the others were pointing up to the hillside. Davis had opened fire. German guns sounded. Even as we ran towards the gate I heard the sub machine guns of my men. They were firing short bursts. With eighty prisoners they could not afford to shoot randomly. Fletcher suddenly fired his MP 40 and a guard tumbled from one of the guard towers. We ran in through the gate. The prisoners were running in all directions and Germans were racing towards us and others to their vehicles.
