P.O.W.

Tramp, tramp, tramp - across the blazing desert sand we marched to the great expanse of sand reserved for the thousands of 'Englanders und Kolonial Truppen' who had been captured. What was to happen on arrival?

On the horizon I could see a seething mass of humanity and as I walked along the road, which I had come along the night before my capture, I could now see the shattered shells of the burnt-out tanks, English and German, a gun blown up, its torn barrel looking like the peeled skin of a banana, and nearby, with eyes staring at the sky, a shattered body. Whose son? Husband? A body, now so still and gruesome in that posture of death, to be buried in a corner of some foreign field that is forever England!

'Tempo, tempo!' shouted the German guards, meaning 'Hurry up, no time to waste!'. At last, we reached that area covered by the seething mass of men, we were told to all sit down and wait. Wait, wait, wait! Our lives were going to be this for the next three years. Yes, but back to the present. When do we eat, when do we quench our thirst? When? When?

How long we waited, I know not. But I vaguely remember in the early hours of the next morning being woken by the shouts of men calling 'Food and water up, come and get it!'. The ration was one tin of salmon between 12 men, and three English biscuits, all no doubt from the Base Depot in Tobruk, so Jerry was not being big-hearted, but he could have given less, or none at all. A little water was given to each man; it made many of us sick because it had been bought along in Diesel cans!

It was a nightmare for the next three days; no food or water, cold nights and blazing hot days. German transports were going through all day, loaded with ammo and the food from the dumps in Tobruk. Nearly all the transport we saw was our own, and I began to ask myself whether any of the regiments fighting there had destroyed any of their vehicles?

Before moving off in convoy, the Germans had painted the emblem of the Afrika Korps on the side of each lorry, so they were ready for the next push towards that pearl of great price, the Suez Canal.

On the fourth day of capture, we were given a few Army biscuits and the rumour spread that we were to be handed over to the Italians. Food was now becoming a problem to the Germans, for they needed all the food they could get from the dumps in Tobruk, as Rommel's army was now hammering on the doors of Egypt. Those food dumps were of vital importance to Rommel, so it was of vital importance that we were handed over to the allies of the Reich for safekeeping and feeding. Thus, on June 26th, we started moving on. What next?

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Barren wastes of rock and sand,
Dry, unfertile desert land,
Spiked wire on every hand,
Prisoner of war.

A hopeless host of angry men,
Croweded together in cage and pen,
Far off it seems from humankind,
Prisoner of war.

Queuing for hours in blistering heat,
Receiving a morsel of bread and meat,
Glad of even scraps to eat,
Prisoner of war.

Ill, unkempt and underfed,
Trading rings and watches for bread,
Chill, sandy shingle for a bed,
Prisoner of war.

Herded together like flocks of sheep,
Bullied and driven from dawn till sleep,
Their hearts filled with hatred deep,
Prisoner of war.

Cut from the news of the outside world,
Sifting the truth from the taunts that are heard,
Silently keeping their flag unfurled,
Prisoner of war.

Striving to keep alive their hope,
Failing at times beyond their scope,
Hugging themselves with rumour and hope,
Prisoner of war.