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This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Elizabeth Perez of Stockport Libraries on behalf of Arthur Berry and has been added to the site with his permission. He fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

However on Friday 13th April 1945, we had finished our shift at work and were back in our lager, when some retreating German infantry were at our main gate and demanding that all the POWs had to go with them immediately. Ginger Maskell, his mate, myself and a lad from the RAC (Tanks) skipped away at the rear of our lager and exited by the latrines, whilst all the activity was going on at the main gate. We crossed the fields adjoining our lager and made for a barn in a nearby farm. It was daylight and we needed to take cover. We entered the barn, which was full of hay, but I kept watch from the barn door and I saw a group of children looking towards us, one of whom held his finger to his lips and ran off. It was obvious we had been spotted. We decided to change direction. We retraced our steps towards our lager, which we assumed would now be empty. We re-entered the lager only to find a German medic unarmed and looking around our building. He asked us who we were. We told him that we were working down the nearby mine “Arbeits Kommando” and had finished our shift to find on our return we had been moved to another lager. We had come back to collect our belongings and bedding. It may seem unbelievable but it happened. The situation was such in Germany at this particular time and confusion reigned. The German medic who was on his own did not hinder us as we collected our belongings. He may have had some suspicions, but thought that discretion was the “better part of valour”. We wished the medic “Auf wiedersehn” and walked out of the main gate, which was now wide open.

We walked through the main street of the village Oberrobblingen and there was not a soul in the street. We met a Polish worker also from the coal mine and he was obviously astounded to see us unescorted. We informed him what had happened. He told us to follow him and he took us back to his camp and put us in the boiler room of the camp and he told us to hide behind the boilers should anyone approach. He came back in the evening and gave us each some bread. The next morning we emerged from the boiler room and spoke to our Polish friend and some of his colleagues. The news was that the Americans were entering Saxony and driving towards the river Elbe. We decided since no more German troops had passed through the village, we would set off to meet the Americans.

We were fortunate that we managed to commandeer a vehicle and although keeping off the main roads we made good progress. We stopped at a school-house when it became dark and a gentle old couple let us stay the night. We slept in the school on the floor. Next morning we set off again, but we needed another vehicle as ours was clapped out. This was acquired by Ginger Maskell and his mate. They were quite adept at this commandeering. We made good progress and reached another village where we found quite a number of displaced persons roaming about. One of the more sober ones had heard that there was a couple of Americans in a house on the outskirts of the village. We found them. They were obviously from a spearhead unit and kept their cards close to their chests. They told us to keep going along the main road and we would soon meet their troops. This we did and we eventually met them. They filled our car with petrol, gave us some food rations and said we should paint some white stars on the vehicle or we may get shot up by our planes. Each time we came upon an advancing column they gave us help food petrol etc. and we speeded on to our first large town which was Kassel. The American military police pulled us up but allowed us to proceed through the city after explaining who we were.

We made for a landing strip where we noted some planes landing. We drove onto the field and stopped near a plane “Dakota” revving up ready for take-off. A young American officer came over to us and enquired who we were. We told him we wanted to get back to Blighty as soon as we could. He informed us that none of three planes went directly back to England unless it was medical. The plane revving up was going to Nancy, France. We said that would do fine. He enquired what we would do with our commandeered car. We said get us on that plane and the car’s yours free. He signalled the pilot, the back door was dropped and we climbed in. The plane was off and we were on our way.

We landed on the airfield at Nancy, it was only a short journey and reported to the control tower, which was a wooden construction. The officer in charge asked who we were and I told him. He said that there was no food available on the airfield but a “chow” wagon would be along in a short while to take us for a meal. In the meantime, he gave us a 7lb tin of peaches to share. He must have been keeping the tin for someone special in the nearby village on his night out. Between us we devoured the lot and drank all the juice. It was much appreciated. The chow wagon turned up and there was a mad scramble to get on board. There were quite a few females in the air crews and they were physically picked up and tossed into the wagon with much laughing and banter going on. I finished up on the running board and holding a side mirror. It was a very happy scene, but I hoped we would all arrive in one piece wherever we were destined as the driver roared down the country lanes. We arrived safe at a nearby farm where tables in the year were spread with food in abundance dished out by German POWs. I remember looking for a sugar basin to sweeten my coffee. One of the pilots pointed out a bread-making large dish filled with sugar. I seemed to be in another world. It was marvellous. After our meal we were all bloated and taken back to the airfield.

We spoke to the officer at the control tower about getting a flight home. He said that there were only a few planes that ever went direct to England from this airfield. Most of the planes from this field took supplies to Germany and returned. However he suggested that we should go around the perimeter and look for a plane showing on the side of the plane the symbol a triangle with a circle in the centre. These pilots might be able to help you. This we did and we found such a plane with their crew outside sunning themselves. We told the pilot of our need to get home. He said that they were going back to Germany later in the afternoon. He had no idea where he would be returning to but if he passed over this airfield he would land and pick us up. The amazing part of this is that the pilot did not ask any other person for permission. He made the decision. We went back to the control tower and gave them the news. One of the American sergeants working in the tower said so you will all be hanging about until late evening you can use my tent and everything in it. There is plenty of cigarettes, candy, chocolate and drinks inside help yourself. Later on in the evening we got a call from the control tower to say our friend had arrived and was “dropping in”. He landed and we all climbed in after thanking everyone for their kindness and we were off.

The pilot spoke to us when we were above the clouds. He said that he was going to Paris and on arrival we would be sleeping in the “cells” at the airport for the night. I told him that suits us perfectly but leave the “cell-doors” unlocked. When we arrived we were taken to the restaurant in the airport for a good meal, then back to the “cells” replete and tired. Next morning washed, shaved and deloused we were taken for interrogation by the American Military Police, after which we were handed over to a Regimental Sergeant Major of the British Military Police together with his sergeant. They took us in a jeep to a hotel in the city where we waited outside. A British SAS officer dressed in a kilt came out of the hotel to speak to us. Of course he recognised the two SAS lads Ginger Maskell and his Liverpudlian friend and he chided them with a smile saying that it had taken them a long time to return to the regiment, presumably he was also an ex-POW. Surprisingly we were handed back to the American Military, who took us to a combat fatigue centre in the city. We stripped off completely, had a bath, then sprayed with DTT powder. We were then kitted out with American uniforms less the cap. We were given a sum of money and an official card to present at any restaurant for a meal and no payment.

The next day British M.P.s came for us and took us by train to Le Havre, where we met other ex-POWs awaiting flights home. We were put on a plane, which took us to Aylesbury Buckinghamshire, where the RAF gave us a grand reception. We were waited on hand and foot by all ranks. We were taken late to an army camp nearby and kitted out in British uniform. There were some ladies from the Women’s Voluntary Services at the camp and they were sewing our regimental flashes on our uniforms. One of the lads from the camp noticed that I had the 51st Highland Division badge. He said he had just seen one of their lads wearing the same badge in the NAAFI. I nipped out to the NAAFI to speak to him. In a Division there are approximately 1700 men, but lo and behold the man wearing the badge was Walter Atkinson my mate and co-signaller. Walter went white when he saw me. He had always thought that I had been killed in the battle at Colombelles. Walter was wounded in the leg, but managed to get out. I finished up being taken prisoner along with my Troop Commander Captain Wager, who was also wounded in the arm. What a coincidence it was meeting Walter like this. Both Walter and I were on the invasions of Sicily and Italy in 1943.

My wife, who was my girlfriend then, and I visited Walter and his family in Leeds just before D-Day. We had a grand time together but little did we know what was in store for us in Normandy. Walter put me in the picture of what happened after my capture. He told me that another OP party was formed for our replacement. They unfortunately only lasted a few weeks. This OP party ran into a road block down a sunken lane unable to reverse. The officer was killed and the two signallers and driver were taken prisoner. I heard later that when they were being transported to Germany, the train on which they were travelling was blown up by the French Resistance. The prisoners were released and joined with the Resistance until the advancing allied troops relieved them. Walter and I arranged a “get together” on his next leave and we had a grand time and not forgetting the lads we left behind. We considered we were most fortunate to be spared.

In conclusion I would like to give my thanks to all who helped us to get home especially the American Army and Air Force, who went out of their way to assist us. I found the Americans to be the most generous open-handed people I have ever come across. They were simply marvellous.

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