Kiwi Kriegie

A New Zealand Airman remembers
his experiences as a POW in World War 2

60 Years ago today!

 

 


They came for me at the farm on December 31 1942 about eleven in the the morning. I had been living there about twelve to fourteen days. The shock of seeing a team of Germans in the courtyard can be imagined. I jumped out the back window almost into the arms of two more Jerry who had come round into the orchard the back way (no fool the Jerry), it was all over.

They took me through to a guard post in Montdidier where I spent the afternoon standing in the corner of the guard room. At about 7 P.M. I was taken to the local rail station, and thence by train with two guards to Amiens, there I was handed over to two Gestapo men in civilian clothes who took me by Citroen to the jail outside Amiens. The one that was later bombed by Mosquitoes in I think March of '43.


There having had my details taken down in a mixture of very fractured French and much waving of arms by a German S.S. officer I was escorted to a cell on the top tier of three and there lodged at about 1130 P.M. This was the first time of many that I was to hear the sound of a cell door clang behind me and a key clack in the lock! Believe me unless you have heard this for real I don't believe that you can talk too much about the jail experience.


A moment later while I was relieving myself in the can thoughtfully provided by the authorities the SS officer from the guard room below came in with a glass of warm punch to wish me a 'Happy New Year', quite genuine I'm sure. He had to wait standing, holding the glass, while I finished my job which I might say was urgent. However I then duly toasted the New Year and he departed. I settled down to my first night as a captive and to think about 1943 which had just started.


The cell was five paces long and three wide. It had a bed and a table fixed to the wall; a strange deep basin also fixed with a tap over, and a niche in the wall for this two-handled can thing mentioned above. This was the toilet facility. The can was indescribable both as to look and to smell. There was a small glazed and barred window about eight feet up the wall. White washed concrete for general decor; the only other furnishing was a three legged stool of rugged construction.

The bed, hinging down from the wall, was metal framed with wire lacing, it had an old palliase with wood wool stuffing and a blanket. No pillow, I used my flying boots to put my head on. Light came from a naked bulb behind a wire frame fixed in the ceiling and controlled from outside. The door set in the thick wall had the classical spy hole, and was metal lined.

Outside the cell door a narrow gallery with metal railings ran round the whole of the third tier as indeed around the second. You got to this level by means of a central companionway and a cross bridge connecting the two sides. The general effect was of a very large cathedral-like space with two mezzanine floors giving three levels of cells. The echo and re-echo of shouted commands and and the clanging of doors being opened and shut was almost continuous through the day and always sounded menacing. This was just one wing, I know there was at least one more, It surely was a 'no nonsense' jail and it was to be my 'home for just over a month.

 

Galbraith Hyde

 

 

 


So who had betrayed him?

When I was growing up, the story that I had been told was this.

The doctor of the small village, perhaps for money or perhaps fearing for reprisals
had informed the Germans.

There is of course no way to confirm this.

Or to confirm this other point. That just a few days later, this man was found at the bottom of a ditch with his neck broken. An "accident"? I think not.

Timothy Hyde

 

 

 

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This page created - December  31st  2002

All Contents © Copyright 2002
Timothy G Hyde

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