John Stieber - Against the Odds - Survival on the Russian Front 1944-1945 [2nd Edition]

We had already decided to stick to secondary roads and I took over the bike with its lady-passenger for the first hour. Although Erika was a lightweight, the going was quite tough and I found that even slight uphill gradients took a lot out of me. In a way it was still more tiring for Erika who could not let her legs hang freely and had to keep her feet from hitting the ground. After changing places with Gerkens we cycled for another hour, but then decided to break for the night because we were getting tired. As it was, there had been no snags and we expected to be able to comfortably cover the remainder of the journey after a night’s rest.

Although it was a mild night, we decided to ask at a farm whether we could sleep in the hay-barn, it would be more comfortable than sleeping in a field and also keep us safe from detection by the eyes of any busybody. The first farmer we asked agreed immediately to our spending the night in his hayloft and refused to take any money from us. A six o’clock start was planned for the next morning, so we had a light snack, chatted for about an hour and by nine o’clock were ready for sleep. I felt very relaxed and quickly dropped off. Though I slept like a log, my body-clock had me instantly awake at five o’clock in the morning.

Our breakfast was a short affair and afterwards we went over our route on the map and also familiarised ourselves with alternative routes in case we ran into any problems. At six o’clock we were on the road with Erika bravely suppressing the memory of her uncomfortable ride on the previous day. Willi and I swapped bikes after each hour’s ride, but every time I had to again get used to the extra strain of the heavier load as I propelled the wobbling bike forwards.

We had been on the road for several hours when we ran into the first American soldiers. We were cycling along a straight stretch of road and could see a barrier in the distance with helmeted soldiers standing behind it. I was on the “luggage” bicycle at the time, so I speeded up to put some distance between our two bikes. Bearing down on the barrier I tried a diversionary tactic by calling out to the soldiers, “Hi, any idea how far it is to Mertendorf?” (a village I knew to be a few kilometres further on). The surprised reaction I got was, “Say, where are you from?” I got off my bike and said, “Oh, I am from Ireland. I’m on my way there now and this…,” here I gestured to the other approaching bike, “…is my sister and a friend of ours.” As the American soldiers crowded around me there were amazed smiles all round and I heard somebody say, “Well, get a load of that, they’re from Ireland.”

To cut a long story short, Erika and I had a friendly chat with the soldiers and any remarks aimed at Willi evoked from him a sheepish blush which was ideal for our purpose because the soldiers then left him alone. We were then asked whether we had enough food with us. Giving the right answer, “We haven’t much, but we will be all right” resulted in soldiers dashing off to come back with delicacies such as peanut butter, tinned coffee, bread and other goodies. Being careful not to overstay our welcome, we thanked the Americans for their kindness and cycled off accompanied by their good wishes.

Before leaving I asked them whether there were any Russian forces between us and Bremen and was assured that they were well to the east of our route, which was very good news indeed. Now that we were inside the part of Germany likely to remain occupied by the Western Allies and we were not likely to meet any more German military police, it seemed opportune to throw away our uniforms. We would be in trouble if they were found by any officious Allied Army personnel and that could put an end to our plans. As soon as I dumped my uniform behind some bushes, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. It was final confirmation that my army life was now a thing of the past.

It had been a good idea to start early on the previous evening. Our estimation of the speed we could maintain had been too high and we might be unlucky and have to make some detours. Two hours later we came across another American check point, but again there was no problem; perhaps the soldiers were bored and glad to have a bit of diversion. As before, we managed to scrounge some food and now felt that we would not be a burden on Aunt Grete when we visited her. Our trip remained uneventful and late in the afternoon the tall chimney of the Mücheln sugar factory came in sight.

When I rang the doorbell of my aunt’s house, she was just as amazed to see me as Erika had been on the previous day. She was very well and had recently become a mother, but unfortunately had no news of Uncle Oskar who had since been made a captain in the army. However, we three were made very welcome and there was plenty of room to put us up.

Once again, our decision was that we would not stay long. Aunt Grete could hardly feed four people off her own rations when our supplies ran out and, anyway, our priority was to follow our plan and try to at least get to Willi’s farm before being taken prisoner. We agreed to stay for two days and to leave early on 13 May.

As soon as I had a bath and settled in, I went to look at my belongings I had left in the house before being drafted into the army. Of course, my prize possession was the bicycle that I had used during my schooldays and I knew it was in perfect condition. This meant an end to our drudgery on the road and we would now be able to travel faster and in much greater comfort. We could carry more luggage and I would be able to take along some of my old clothes; now I even had my comfortable old shoes. On top of this there was my camera and items of sentimental value including some books that I did not want to leave behind.

It was only after Erika heard about my bicycle that she confessed to the torture she had suffered on the luggage carrier, with agonising cramps in the legs from trying to hold them rigidly in the air. I was very glad that her pluck did not have to be tested further on the much longer trip we had ahead of us.

I relished our stay in Mücheln. It was so relaxing to be totally unstressed for two whole days and to get long nights of refreshing sleep. Aunt Grete enjoyed our company, but she was subdued and obviously worried about her husband. It was nice to be able to share with her the delicacies we had been given by the Americans and so partly repay her for her hospitality during our short stay. I was sad when it was time to leave her behind in her lone vigil, but at least she had baby Christian to take her mind off her worries.

We made our usual early start on a beautifully sunny morning. It was exhilarating to be pedalling along on my trusted bike which revived so many happy memories of past jaunts and my joy was increased by the faster pace that we were now able to set. As before, we slept in a hay-barn during each night and the Americans continued to facilitate us, although we did once have to show our “papers” to emphasise our bona fide. Most of our trip was through American held territory and on the last leg of our journey we were twice stopped at British check-points.

On the first occasion we found ourselves heading towards disaster. Unimpressed by my cheery greeting, which had worked so well up till then, the soldier on duty first refused to let us through and said the road was closed to all civilians. I was about to say that it was no trouble to us and we would go back and take another road when he began to eye me suspiciously and said, “You look like a German soldier to me, I think I should run you in.” He did not look like somebody you could argue with, so the only thing was to keep cool and show him our papers. He then began to ask questions which I answered in a friendly voice even if I did not always tell the truth. He must have come to the conclusion that we were not worth all the bother when he finally muttered, “I dunno, I still think I should run you in,” and allowed us to beat a hasty retreat.