Prisoner

We had two guards each with their guns leading us into the station. The building had been hit by bombs. We could see much destruction, but it was dark and hard to judge how much damage.

The rest of the night we spent against the wall on one of the outside train platforms. The sirens sounded and bombs fell somewhere not too far away. We felt the impact.

During the night no trains came. We were cold and silent. We didn’t talk, each buried in his own thoughts. We huddled against the wall as well as our guards. This was our security, I guess, because it was solid, the only substantial thing we had at the moment. I wasn’t as scared here with bombs falling as I had been in that room by myself a couple of days ago.

In the morning a train arrived, and we were the first on the train before any passengers were allowed near the train. We were pushed into a small compartment with two long seats on each side at right angle to the window. The door of the compartment was open, and the passengers had to pass our compartment on their way to their seats. They looked at us, and we must have been a sight. Gotty had cut our hair while we were in the Titron’s house, but we hadn’t shaved since we were taken from our jail cell, nor had we taken off our clothes since then except for the one strip search I had had. I don’t know if the others had had it, I never asked.

I seldom took my shoes off while I slept, and if I did, I tied them to my hands. I was very much afraid I’d lose them while I slept.

None of the passengers seemed angry at us. I imagine from our looks we could have been deserters or French men being taken by the Germans.

We were on this train most of this day. About noon one of the guards got us some food, but it looked so bad. It was blood sausages. I had never eaten this before, and I could barely force myself to eat even a little of it. I still hadn’t been hungry enough, as I was yet to be, to eat regardless of what the food looked like or of what it was made.

When we first sat down in this compartment, Gotty let us see he had gotten one cigarette, but unfortunately one of the guards saw it and took it away from him.

Sometime during the afternoon, the train stopped, and we were taken off into a big railroad yard. We were marched across the tracks to a freight train. One of the cars had its door open and we discovered the car was filled with many men, all American airmen, but unlike us, most were still fairly clean looking. They had been captured fairly recently.

The car was so crowded it was just possible to sit down with your knees drawn up. None of us had anything but the clothes we wore, so you can imagine the scene.

When the doors were closed, it was fairly dark. I felt lucky because being the last guys pushed into the car, we had the door to lean against. It was warm there with so many bodies pressed together. Out of this mass of men some became my very good friends over the next year.

In late afternoon, just before dark, we were taken off the train while it was stopped for something and told to go into the field. I hadn’t had a bowel movement, it seemed like, for several days, and I felt worried, but try as I did squatting in the field and tense as I was, nothing happened. One of the fellows on this car could speak German and kept us informed of the things he heard. He had told us what had been expected of us when we were let out for bowel movements, etc.

©Joseph H. Harrison 1999