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Following liberation a certain amount of confusion reigned. I should explain that originally Stalag IVB was intended as a transit camp through which, POWs.from Italy would be sorted and then sent on to permanent camps. However, by the time our contingent reached Muehlberg it was decided that we would stay put. As a member of a fifty strong RAF party all NCOs.(Sergeants and above)and not eligible to work, we were put into a special compound.The camp also contained French, Danish (in1944),a few other assorted groups plus a fairly large number of Russians who were kept -in hideous conditions-apart from the rest and as Russia was not a signatory to the Geneva agreement on the treatment of Prisoners of War,they did not receive any letters, parcels, medical aid or the help of the Protecting Power-Switzerland. They endured a regime of even less food than the rest received from the Germans and as I intimated earlier, without the aid of Red Cross parcels we would have been starving.So that when liberation eventually came, Russian prisoners were the first to burst out of camp to search for food peferably MEAT, which they found in the form of sheep,chickens , indeed any animal that moved. As the local population at Muehlberg and the surrounding area had fled as soon as the first Russian Army detachments approached, it is safe to say, that within a fifteen miles radius few if any animals remained.
And on the first night of freedom, many of us ate our first cooked meat for a very long time, in mine and Norman's case two and a half years.As one can imagine, the Russians from years of absolute privation,indulged to say the least,excessively.A scene stands out in my mind. Two great cauldrons are bubbling away, suspended over a roaring fire (Wood from demolished huts!)into which hardly butchered chunks of lamb are tossed and such was the ravenous hunger of the ragged Russians,barely cooked before being devoured. It was said that next day a number of the ex prisoners were dead through overeating, though I have no real proof it does seem extremely likely.It was noticeable that the conquering Russian Army of whom, the four cossacks are all I can remember seeing,brought nothing to the liberated camp. Apart from the forays for food outside, we were still dependent mainly on the depleted stocks of Red Cross parcels,delivery of which had ceased a few weeks before. One of the last ot these included some destined for Indians,which in the chaos then prevailing found their way to Muehlberg. Some of the ingredients,chupattis,curried meats(tinned), ghee(a sort of fat/margarine), plus other strange and exotic rarities , to the majority, though there were about 150 Indian POWs.and soon, recipes were circulating and tried-not that we were fussy, anything eatable was duly consumed , it would be a long time before satiety occurred!
This strange interlude following liberation lasted about a week,the order came to pack up our few belongings and prepare for the crossing of The Elbe to the western bank on which was the town of Riesa , approximately 15 miles away, there to await further orders.It was during this march that I developed a large painful blister on one foot that developed into a septic abscess. Fortunately at Riesa there was a large German barracks that included a sick bay where an army doctor (English)operated.I was sedated with the aid of a drug EVIPAN whose strange quality, made me merry when I awoke , so that although the foot was excruciatingly painful, I nevertheless began laughing and at the same time almost crying- I suppose this was the original'Laughing Gas'.At any rate within a few days I was able to go to the billet we had found in town, a Gasthaus-a small inn. This was remarkable for the feather beds which after a couple of years sleeping on wooden slats,was like sleeping on air, unparallelled luxury,while food was issued at the barracks.The town of Riesa was under Russian control and we were told to keep strictly within town limits, the war was still going on in sporadic outbursts, this was at the end of April 1945, the end came on May7th.Meanwhile it was made known to the ex 'Kriegies' (from Kriegsgefangener- Prioners of War)that we would remain at Riesa until an EQUAL number of ex - Russian prisoners plus civilian slave workers had been assembled from the American and British sectors. At a given time all would assemble on a field nearby.Flags fluttered, speeches made by senior officers on both sides , the exchange made, with the Americans taking charge of British and Americans and off we would go to the airfield at Halle.And so it happened, and as the two groups passed each other, little did we know that ALL the Russians returning to their homeland would be arrested and sent to the various Gulags for anything up to 20 years., the prevailing Stalinist paranoia deemed that these unfortunates had been'infected'by contact with the West and could pass on the 'poison'of western thought or ideas.One only has to read Solzenitsin's great expose The Gulag Archipelago to understand the mentality of Stalin and his henchmen. All this of course,was learnt years after our release from captivity.
For the moment though we were intoxicated with the euphoria of freedom , the Yankee lorries driving to Halle where there was an airstrip and Dakotas to fly us to Brussels and then England.First though, at the hangers and airport buildings, a shower,a brief medical inspection and finally our first real civilised meal . Queueing and receiving the generous American rations that included what looked like cake,we commented on this,and one American soldier said, "Say you guys, have you never seen BREAD before". Well, the answer to that was "Yes, but we had forgotten it was white, the stuff we had been eating for the past few years had a darkish hue between brown and black and the consistency of setting cement".In parenthesis, I was weighed after getting home and discovered that I had lost two and a half stones (30 pounds)of my normal weight! Needless to say decent and regular meals soon restored the loss. But one thing has never been lost and that is my aversion to food being wasted, a principle I instilled into my children much later.
From Halle to Brussels just an hour's flying time,we gazed down over the ruins of Germany and not for the first or last time did we remark, 'what a terrible and unnecessary affair, war is'. Flying over Cologne with only the Cathedral identifiable surrounded by acre upon acre of destruction,brought home the inescapable fact of War's futility and sterility.
Landing at Brussels and allocated a billet , norman and I essayed a visit to the centre of the town,found a bar and ordered a couple of beers . On attempting to pay with the few shilling we had aquired,the landlord who somehow divined we were ex - prisoners,refused our money remarking it was an honour to serve you.Sipping our first drinks for a couple of years we experienced a glow that was not due only to the alcohol, it was the glow of sheer unadulterated happiness that was repeated many times following our arrival at RAF Cosford the next day.- Phil Green

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