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

As soon as I left the camp, I did a strange thing. There was a rail connection to Rotenburg, but I decided to walk the thirty miles without even considering looking at a time-table. I think the reason was that my sudden confinement had shaken my confidence. I did not want to be cooped up in a train or to meet uniformed railway officials and I just wanted to shun all human contact. Walking along the road restored my self-confidence; seeing woods and undergrowth reminded me that there I could seek safety from human beings. Thinking back on my disturbing experience has made me realise that I can have had only the most minute concept of the effect of long-term imprisonment.

I left the camp shortly after eight o’clock and I set myself a cracking pace as if pursued by devils. I ate nothing on the way and hardly allowed myself a breather, so it was just after five o’clock in the evening when I arrived back in Rotenburg. I had covered the thirty miles in only nine hours! There was nobody at the farm when I got back and sank exhausted into a chair. Minutes later I heard Erika returning from work. A look of utter disbelief crossed her face when she saw me sitting there in the bedroom. She and all the Gerkens were delighted at my good fortune, as was Major Carver, when we phoned him from the office in the morning.

Once again we began searching for an avenue which might help us to emigrate, but this time it had to be a safer way. We next tried UNRRA, the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration. This was an organisation operated by forty-four nations during the Second World War and was the precursor of the International Refugee Organisation, a specialised agency set up after the creation of the United Nations in 1951. Unfortunately, after waiting for weeks, we again drew a blank. The problem seemed to be that until there was a greater normalising of conditions, there was absolutely no mechanism available to us.

To while away the time I began to visit friends I had made in the Hermann Lietz schools. Many of my friends were still in prisoner-of-war camps and others were reported missing, so I was delighted when I was able to renew some of my contacts. One day in early September we had a visitor, Nurse Mary Walsh from County Cork. Private Twomey had been suddenly transferred to a more distant location and, good man that he was, he had quickly found somebody to take his place. Nurse Walsh worked in a hospital in Bremen, which was even nearer to us than Hamburg. Once again there were presents for us, and also for the Gerkens.

In early October I was transferred to another job which was also on the aerodrome. I was told that a decreased demand for translating and interpreting no longer justified the employment of two people. This seemed a reasonable explanation and I fully accepted it. What did not seem logical to me was being told that I could no longer get lunch in the officers’ canteen and would have to look after my own requirements. It was a pity about the lunches, but Mrs Gerkens was feeding me well and my new job was challenging in a new and interesting way.

I was now working on Nr 350 CEVP which stood for Captured Enemy Vehicle Park. Some 2,000 German ex-Army vehicles of every description were parked on the runways. There were cars of German, French, Italian, English and American make; there were vans, trucks, ambulances, fire-brigades and a whole range of motor-cycles up to heavy side-car outfits. The disused aeroplane hangars were used as workshops and a gang of fifteen Germans worked as mechanics overhauling the vehicles. None of the fitting staff were qualified motor-mechanics; they were all just people, with some knowledge of cars, who needed work.

My job was that of clerk and general administrator. More vehicles arrived every day which had to be assessed and overhauled for issue on licence to civic authorities, industry and doctors. My immediate boss, Sergeant Robinson, was in overall charge, but when he saw how I was handling things he let me get on with it and never interfered. It suited me because I enjoyed having full responsibility.

My new job brought me a bonus which was a welcome compensation for the loss of my lunches. I was allowed the use of any car within the boundary of the aerodrome. I made it my business to drive a different car or lorry each day, so that I soon had experience of driving almost every vehicle in existence. Strangely enough, I got on very well with Sergeant Robinson even though he was fiercely anti-German. “Robby,” as he allowed me to call him, was a cockney and quite a rough diamond. Sometimes, when customers arrived bringing their small children, I could see Robby glaring at them and heard him snarling “Little Hitlers” under his breath. Over the weeks an amazing change came over Robby and he began to love German children and always had little presents for them when they came. Robby was a Jew and a very simple, uneducated person, but he had a heart of gold. I think it was when he began to forget the propaganda and learned that average Germans are like anybody else that he began to overcome his bias and his true nature asserted itself.

The months went by, autumn changed to winter and Mary Walsh still faithfully came to visit us. Ireland was as far away as ever and Mrs Gerkens must have been thoroughly fed up with us although she did everything to make us feel welcome. By paying more rent Erika and I hoped to compensate partly for the inconvenience we were causing. Christmas came with some festive snow and it was wonderful to celebrate again as a civilian, even if it was not in my own home.

In the New Year my parents applied to the Irish Department of External Affairs for certificates of naturalisation. In the aftermath of the war all Germans had been expelled from Czechoslovakia and their property and assets were confiscated. Since my parents had lost their home in Czechoslovakia and they liked Ireland, they decided that this was where our future would lie.

Towards the end of January, the stock of vehicles began to dwindle. Back in November there had been a peak of over 3,000, but then fewer came in for repair and the number of irreparable, cannibalised vehicles grew steadily. In February scrap dealers began to haul away the wrecks and by the beginning of March my staff was down to two mechanics. I began to wind down the whole operation and my last day of work on the aerodrome was on 13 March, 1946, but I had already found a new job with the local German police and started working for them on 15 March.

In my new job I worked in the criminal investigation section and my boss was Polizei-Hauptmann (Police Captain) Klein. He was a small, roundish man, full of fun, and I enjoyed working in his section. Most of my work was clerical, but there was also a certain amount of translating in cases where complaints had been made about the occupation forces.

Some weeks earlier, on 16 February, my parents had been granted Irish citizenship. In the hope that this might also speed our return home they had made an open-ended advance booking with the American Airline TWA for two flight tickets from Paris to Rineanna, as Shannon was then called. These tickets were deposited with the Irish Legation in Paris where it shared premises with the British Embassy. There were no direct commercial air-routes between Germany and Ireland and the airport nearest to Germany from which we could have flown home was Paris. So now Erika and I had to set our aim at getting to Paris. At about this time my parents had moved to Dublin from Mallow which had the advantage of giving them a more direct contact with the diplomatic services.

Once again the weeks dragged on – we had been almost a year in Rotenburg and it was no easier to get to Paris than to Ireland. When Erika and I got home from work in the evening of 27 April, we found a letter waiting for us from the French Vice-Consul in Hamburg asking us to call to his office urgently in connection with our application to travel to Ireland. This was quite out of the blue and it looked as if things had suddenly started moving.