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My late grandfather, John Denis Caves, known as Denis, and as Grandad to me and my brothers and cousins, fought for New Zealand in World War II. This was something of which I was immensely proud while growing up, without knowing any specifics about what that actually meant or what his experiences might have been. As children, my brothers and I played with an old wooden rifle and a wooden Tommy gun but I didn't realise that these were the types of weapons Grandad used in the war.
The project to research Grandad's war experiences commenced in 2002 with a stack of wartime letters faithfully kept all these years by my grandmother, Jean Caves. Passages transcribed from these letters form the heart of this work. To complement them I've borrowed liberally from a number of published works, particularly the New Zealand Official War History which has provided much detail about the exploits of Grandad's 24 Battalion and the events relating to New Zealand prisoners of war.
One of the things I most wanted to understand about Grandad's wartime experiences was to know where he'd been, and for me that meant being able to trace his route on a map. Identifying the route, a task that at first might seem so simple, surely just a matter of reading off placenames and dates from his letters, proved to be one of the most challenging.
Not only is handwriting difficult to read 60 years on, yielding ambiguous spellings, but sometimes the place names Grandad recorded may have been approximations based on what he heard, rather than the correct spelling. Even then, placenames in modern day Poland and the Czech Republic are changed from the 1940s. Many of the POW locations were not major cities or towns, but obscure railway junctions or villages. Complicating the task further, but only to be expected, some placenames relate to more than one location.
At the outset I knew little more than that Grandad had fought in North Africa, been captured before the famous Allied victory at El Alamein, as a prisoner of war had been marched around Europe, and returned to New Zealand at the end of the war. I had heard it mentioned that he was variously in Germany, Italy and Poland and I wanted to know precisely where he had been.
Now I know that Grandad first served in Fiji, before sailing to North Africa, where he fought at the famous Battle of Sidi Rezegh in November 1941, narrowly escaping with his life. For the first six months of 1942 his brigade was assigned to northern Syria, guarding the Turkish frontier. In July 1942 and back in Egypt, Grandad's brigade was thrust into the Alamein Line and fought at the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge where he was captured.
To trace Grandad's travels as a POW, we collated a list of placenames, dates and other information such as POW camp numbers, and sequenced them chronologically. Through a process of research, poring over maps and a fortunately-timed visit to Poland, I have been able to determine a reasonably accurate representation of the route Grandad must have taken.
For example, Stalag 344, where Grandad was held for a time in 1944, was one of the largest POW camps and located at Lamsdorf in Silesia, yet Lamsdorf does not appear on any modern map. The reason is that Silesia, part of Germany up until 1945, was awarded to Poland at the end of the war, in recompense for Polish territory to the east which Russia claimed. Silesia today has Polish placenames, and in the case of Lamsdorf the nearby village is renamed Łambinowice, pronounced, roughly, "Wambinovitz".
However, understanding that Lamsdorf is now called Łambinowice didn't answer the riddle as to the location of Stalag 344 because Łambinowice also didn't appear on any maps I had available. Two breakthroughs solved the mystery. Firstly, I discovered the website for The Central Prisoner-of-War Museum in Łambinowice which described its location as being near the city of Opole. Secondly, I stumbled upon a detailed Polish roadmap in a Krakow bookstore, unfolded it, found Opole on the map, and the nearby name Łambinowice leapt out at me.
I bought the map, rented a car, and two days later navigated my way around the back roads of Silesia to the little country village of Łambinowice and located the museum on the site of Stalag 344. The challenge in locating even such a major landmark as Stalag 344 illustrates the difficulties I faced.
Having identified the main POW camps where Grandad was held captive 1942-1944, one big challenge remained. That was to trace his route from when his camp was evacuated in January 1945 to his liberation by American soldiers hundreds of miles to the west in Bavaria in April. Most of this distance was travelled on foot with little food or shelter, during one of the coldest winters on record. Called The Last Escape by author Nicholls, many POWs referred to it simply as the death march.
Books such as the Official History of New Zealand in the Second World War and The Last Escape include maps and descriptions of the general routes taken by typical groups of POWs during these evacuation marches to the west in 1945. But few offer any specifics as to where Grandad actually marched, or shed any light on the mysterious placenames Grandad recorded in a notebook during these months: Altendorf, Runewold, Jagsdorf, Schmudou, Paslawitz, Sternau, Lellau, Muglitz, Regetz.
My Rosetta stone was the 1883 Ravenstein Map and Gazetteer of the German Empire, which included practically every town, village and parish of the 19th century German empire. I knew I was onto something when I found this map and saw Lamsdorf clearly marked. Knowing that POWs walked approximately 20km each day, I was able to trace, day by day, the early weeks of Grandad's march matching his recorded placenames to likely localities on the Ravenstein Map. Thus Ronewald matched to Konewald, Schmudou to Schmitzau, Lellau to Littau, and so on. Some of my matches may be erroneous, and in fact a number of placenames I have been unable to identify: Bismark, Rattovity, Radim, Bastawitz, Hosten. But the placenames I traced for the weeks immediately after evacuation mark a clear and steady route westward from Oderburg near Stalag VIIIB at Teschen.
It is difficult to pinpoint exactly where Grandad was during most of March 1945, perhaps the darkest period of the 'death march', but I was able to pick up the trail again in April in Bavaria in the last weeks before his liberation.
So now, to the best of my ability we have Grandad's route traced on a map of central Europe. In the process I learned more than I would have liked to about the terrible experiences he must have endured as a POW, particularly in that final westwards march before liberation. But I feel a mystery has been solved.
I would like to acknowledge the assistance of my grandmother Jean Caves, uncle Michael Caves and mother Judi Grey in helping me recount Grandad's war experiences. Insights shared by Jean and Michael together with scanned documents and transcriptions provided by Judi enabled me to piece the puzzle together.
This volume is a loving tribute to my grandparents, Gran and Grandad, Jean and Denis Caves.
John Denis Caves (known throughout his life as Denis) was born in Opotiki in the eastern Bay of Plenty, New Zealand, on 4 March 1917. It was in hometown Opotiki that he met Jean McGregor and they were engaged in 1939.
In September 1939, New Zealand along with the other Commonwealth nations declared war on Germany. Denis volunteered to serve in the New Zealand Army, but failed his medical test due to varicose veins and instead put down a deposit on a nearby farm. Before Denis could take ownership of the land, the New Zealand Army called him up for service. Denis reclaimed his deposit before heading to training camp in Ngaruawahia
Denis lived a lifetime in the next five years. He rode out the 1941 Fijian hurricane. He survived gruelling desert combat in Egypt and very nearly lost his life at the Battle of Sidi Rezegh in 1941. He then spent six months on garrison duty in Syria before his brigade was thrust into the line at Alamein. Denis was captured in the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge in July 1942 and held captive at Benghazi, for two months, then transported to Italy. He was a POW in Italian hands for one long hardening year until Italy surrendered in September 1943 and the Germans took control. Denis endured a further 18 months in POW camps across Eastern Germany - Stalag VIIIA Görlitz, Stalag 344 Lamsdorf and Stalag VIIIB Teschen - involving forced labour in sugar factories, coal mines and on railway lines when his health allowed. In January 1945 Denis began his final and most trying journey - 720 miles on foot, often in snow with little and sometimes no food, westward from modern-day Poland across Czechoslovakia to Germany. Denis was liberated by American troops in Bavaria after 96 days march.
Denis, like so many of his comrades, rarely spoke about the war when he returned to New Zealand. Seldom did he reference his exploits and experiences, only occasionally confiding in his son Michael who served in the New Zealand Army. Yet memories of his days in battle and captivity could not be erased and returned to haunt Denis in his final days. Denis died in Opotiki on 27 April 1989.
This book is Denis' tale expressed through letters exchanged with Jean and his parents. These letters tell the remarkable story of survival in battle and captivity. They also tell the story of Denis and Jean whose unfaltering love persevered against all odds.
"The hurricane is undoubtedly the main news..."
This passage describes the Fijian hurricane of 1941 which Denis experienced first-hand.
On 5 June 1940, New Zealand decided to raise and train an infantry brigade group for Fiji, the force to consist of 2908 all ranks, increased before departure to 3053. This scheme was originally envisaged as a combined garrison and advanced training ground for reinforcements for 2 NZ Division in the Middle East, the First Echelon of which had left New Zealand on 6 January. It provided for the relief of the men after six months' service, after which they were to return to New Zealand to become reinforcements for the force in Egypt.
During weekends and holidays parties of soldiers visited the more distant villages, where they were received by the hospitable Fijians and initiated into traditional kava-drinking ceremonies. From time to time, also, representative Fijians, smart in spotless white sulus and coats of European cut, visited the military camps bearing gifts of fruit and vegetables which supplemented menus not overburdened with fresh foods, most of which came from New Zealand and much deteriorated on the way. Refrigerated space was at a premium during the first year, but large cool-stores finally overcame the food problem.
During January and February of 1941 the men experienced their first real rainy season, when the warm, moisture laden atmosphere produces mildew overnight inside hats and boots and even on tin trunks. With it came persistent hurricane rumours but, as none had visited Fiji for some years, they were ignored. February opened with oppressive heat and torrential rainstorms, producing conditions which, in the tropics, breed short tempers and imaginary slights and a disposition to procrastinate-conditions rather difficult to control and collectively referred to as malua. On 19 February the meteorological section of the RNZAF issued a warning that a storm of some violence might be expected as the erratic course of a hurricane was plotted, zigzagging at sea between Fiji and Tonga. It broke the following morning-the worst hurricane experienced in Fiji for twenty-one years. Warnings were issued to all units as the day broke with leaden skies and an unusual gusty wind. All tents were struck in both areas, canopies were removed from motor vehicles, and buildings were hurriedly wired and strutted to withstand a gale.
By nine o'clock the wind increased to tremendous force, driving in from the sea a wall of warm grey rain which stung like hail. Two hours later the hurricane was raging at its height. Huge trees toppled and snapped; palms bent so that their crowns of fronds swept the earth like dusters; sheets of corrugated iron whisked through the air like postage stamps or were wrapped round tree trunks like paper. At 11.15 a.m. the wind reached 110 miles an hour, but as the recording instruments broke at that time no accurate record was ever established. Telephone and power lines went down under the weight of wind and wreckage. One military line survived until midday, and when it broke headquarters was isolated from all units except by a wireless link which maintained communication with Namaka only with extreme difficulty.
Late in the afternoon, when the hurricane dissolved in heavy rain, the landscape looked as though it had been stripped by locusts. Tangles of branches, wreckage, and wires blocked streets and roads. Three ships in the harbour, which had escaped from Nauru Island when their convoy was shelled on 6, 7 and 8 December by the German raiders Orion and Komet, were driven high on mudbanks. Two aeroplanes, exactly half the RNZAF's strength in the Pacific, were wrecked on the Nandali airfield, where they had been tied down. Six buildings were blown down in Samambula Camp, and others, including officers' quarters at Borron's House and a motor transport workshop at Samambula, were leaning at crazy angles. Camps in the Namaka area escaped with heavy flooding, though the Nandi River rose 30 feet.
This week the hurricane is undoubtedly the main news item so I will tell you as much as I can about it. Since last weekend it had been very showery and on Thursday morning the rain was consistent enough to keep us in our hut where we were having a lecture. About 9:30am the hurricane warning came and we had to pack all our gear ready to vacate our huts if necessary. All was bustle and excitement and we were expecting quite a thrill. Well we got the thrill all right.
At quarter to ten the wind which had already been strong increased into a gale driving the rain through the ventilators on the south side in the corner where I sleep. We had to take all our gear down to the other end of the hut. The wind increased in velocity and shortly leaves and loose paper, tin and debris were being hurtled through the air. Poor birds caught unsheltered were whisked along, beaten to the ground and caught up again and carried out of sight while vainly trying to fly for shelter. Visibility was cut down to a hundred yards or so and the wind and rain was whipping along the ground with such ferocity that it was almost terrifying. Palm trees swayed further and further into the wind till they snapped and were torn up like feathers and carried unbelievable distances. Loose timber and iron rattled on buildings and every now and again the walls of our hut swayed and shivered so violently that we quite expected it to be carried away.
At lunchtime dry rations were brought over to us by the quartermaster who had a hard job to keep his feet. He was drenched through all day and had quite an unenviable day getting food to his men. A lull came soon after midday which lasted for an hour or so and then the wind came up again from the North in all its fury and blew till about 4pm when it decreased to quite a moderate gale and enabled us to go over to mess. By this time the hut was full of wind, blown rain and all our stretchers wet.
After mess Jim, Bill, Larry and I went for a stroll around and viewed the changed landscape. The trees that were not broken or uprooted were almost stripped of leaves. Many familiar Indian corrugated iron shanties had tumbled down off adjacent hills. Much of the lowland was flooded while the large Rewa River in the distance was brown with flood water.
The morning dawned fairly bright and the wind was quite normal. We had a busy day washing the mud and water and leaves out of our hut and washing clothes. In the afternoon we were cleaning up the camp. The parks and gardens in town are horribly disfigured. It is a shame. It will take a year or more to cover up the marks of 24 hours of furious wind.
"This is a strange land."
Timeline of Events
26 June - July 1941
Sailing from Wellington to Egypt on board the Aquitania.
August 10 - October 1941
Maadi, Egypt, near Cairo, Infantry Training Depot.
18 October 1941
Denis assigned to B Company, 24 Battalion, 6 Brigade, 2 New Zealand Division in Baggush, Egypt.
9 November 1941
6 Brigade moves out of Baggush to the front line.
Well we are now alongside the wharf at Wellington on board the Aquitania. There are about 60 of us in the advance party and so far have had very little to do. We came down on the 3 o'clock leaving Papakura at 3:30pm and arriving here at 7am so you can imagine we have had very little sleep. However it will probably have been a fast better trip down than the main party will have on the troop train. This boat is a whopper, the biggest I have ever seen. 43,000 tonnes. The Rangitira which is lying a few chains away looks just like a dingy beside us.
Well Darling Girl, we did not have much to say to each other on the phone did we - but we never do. Anyway Jean Dear I hope you realise just what you mean to me. I love you Darling and always will and only hope that I can always be worthy of you and never cause you pain or sorrow.
PS. I'm afraid we will have no shore leave in Australia as this boat is too big they reckon to berth and has to anchor out in the harbour.
We have seen little but endless water. The heat is now intense. The sweat is pouring off me as I write. We crossed the equator yesterday. Yesterday the swimming bath on deck was filled with sea water for us. Unfortunately it is only about 12ft by 24ft and we have set hours for each company. Nevertheless we are very glad to have it there and we mess orderlies will have ample opportunity to use the bath while others are on fatigues or parades.
We have now been at sea three weeks. Three whole weeks without a foot of solid earth and probably another 10 days or so to go. Out at sea the smoke of our escorts (we have more now) is just visible while the other transports steam majestically in line with us. They tell me we are now in the danger zone and that there will be no more practice alarms. The next one will be fair dinkum.
Since we left I have been sleeping on deck. It is pretty hard to find room to put down one's blankets and if it was not for old Freddie Bowers I would stand very little show as nearly all the space is taken by the time I finish mess. Freddie places his blankets in two piles. So far we have been very lucky but Sunday night we got wet through with spray. Last night we did not attempt to find a dry space on deck and slept in the mess room.
Yesterday I went into Cairo for the first time. It is hard to give you my idea of the city as really I hardly seemed to get anywhere and all the streets were to be bewilderingly alike. The outskirts and poor quarters of the town look as though they had sustained an air raid but are only old. How old I don't know but their crumbling mud and brick walls could tell tales of ancient Pharaohs by their look. The better part of the city is remarkably modern with large 6-10 storey buildings far superior to anything in NZ. The NZ Club was a hotel and the floors are solely for the use of all ranks. The Club is a credit to NZ Patriotic Funds. One can go in there from the hot dusty streets and have a hot or cold shower after getting a clean towel and piece of soap for 1½ P.T. Then have tea, fruit salad, ice creams, softdrinks, grills or chicken, almost anything in fact. From 6:30PM the bar is open. Beer being 6½ P.T. a bottle. We took advantage of all this after looking around the streets. From the station after a 20 minute ride costing 2P.T. return we took a gharri. Gharris are great and give one a feeling of a millionaire. They are two wheel vehicles with a hood like a sports model and drawn by two horses, ponies I should say. One sits back in
The evenings here are beautiful Darling. The air becomes cooler and the sun goes down in a red ball through haze of dust and heat directly behind the pyramids. Much to my surprise there is an almost continuous breeze which although hot and often dusty makes the heat less oppressive.
I have still not been into Cairo again as we have been on duty for a week or so but I am hoping to see some of the places of interest this coming weekend. We have only been here three weeks yet it seems ages. Things we did in final leave seem hard to recall. Fiji seems like a dream almost. This is a strange land Dear. Standing on a ridge of ageless rock and sand, one looks out over the Nile towards Cairo with its mosques, palaces and minarets rearing up above flat-roofed houses through a shimmering haze. Distance is hard to judge and seems limitless, nothing stands out clear cut. It all seems unreal like a faded picture. Hardest of all to realize is that the three cone-shaped shadows beyond the city are the pyramids. One thing that surprises me is the way the barren desert runs right down to the Nile. I thought the banks of the Nile would be all in gardens and plantation for miles on either side but evidently there is no seepage and the only growth must be got by irrigation. The river is used for transportation on a large scale. Scows are used and in some places the tall bamboo masts of these picturesque craft are as 'thick as hairs on a cat's back' to quote one we know. They are heavy cumbersome open boats propelled by a huge triangular sail and guided by a large clumsy looking rudder. Looking away behind the camp is nothing but ridges and waadis and expanses of dusty stony sand.
I have now been over here three weeks. Life has fallen more or less into a routine with many fatigues and guards which fill a big part of a soldier's life. On guard here, one is not cursed with mosquitoes thank goodness - we miss the toads and mongooses and bats but have in their place little lizards - small sand-coloured and extraordinarily fast moving when disturbed. Gypsies come through the camp occasionally with their donkey drawn carts and sometimes on camels. They have these rubber air horns like the old motorbikes, and on a busy road through the camp the din is weird and wonderful. Like the honking of geese or a dog loose in a very mixed farm yard.
Jim Choat and I got leave together on Friday from 1:30pm to 1:30am. I was rather keen on going to the pyramids but as Jim had already seen them last week we decided to go to the zoo instead. We took a bus and train to town [Cairo] and made for the N.Z Club - being
From the NZ Club we took a taxi to the zoo - it was a fair way from the Club out towards the pyramids and made a very interesting drive. The Nile is divided by an island, Gezira, and some of the best residences are situated on it. The Gezira is of course well watered and there are many beautiful gardens and trees on it.
On the main land again we travelled up the bank of the river for a mile or so. The water of the Nile is brown and filthy but looks nice if not too close. We reached the zoo at 3 o'clock and it is beautifully laid out with trees, gardens, rockeries and flowing water. It must hold its own with the leading zoos of the world. We saw everything I can think of from mice to elephants and from crocodiles to polar bears. Strange as it may seem Jim and I could name most of the animals and birds before we saw the names just through having seen them in pictures.
New Zealand's main overseas base, Maadi was minutes away from Cairo and the desert there was hard and suitable for training and practically free from mosquitoes and flies. The New Zealanders peaked at 76,000 constituting the largest single foreign community ever to have resided in Maadi. Tents, camouflaged to merge with the sand, were erected for accommodation. While off duty, soldiers could get a decent meal and a drink at The New Zealand Club in Cairo.
Last Saturday I went into town [Cairo] with a cobber. The population is very mixed here. The better class Egyptians and Arabs are in some ways very fine as are the French residents. However there are far more of mixed blood than pure and they grade from fair to the lowest imaginable. The female of the species is of course far more presentable than the male.
Some of the girls have beautiful hair and figures although their faces are often not made to match. You have no need to fear for any changing of affections on my part. The lowest classes are detestable, filthy in body and mind and ignorant in everything but low earning and petty thieving. A soldier has to be very careful not to have his pocket rifled and it is not safe wandering off the main streets by oneself in the dark.
We have, of course, had no rain. I have been surprised by the amount of wind we get here at times. Every evening quite a stiff breeze arises. Through the days whirlwinds are frequent and raise the dust. Sometimes a strong whirlwind raises dust and litter in a spiral to a great height, often blocking three or four huts from view.
Your transport meetings must be quite interesting. I'm really glad that you are keen on it and hope you do well because the knowledge will be very useful in the future. When we are out driving I can see myself pulling out a cigarette when the old bus breaks down and having a smoke while my dearly beloved wife carries out the necessary adjustments. Well so much for a little sentiment and a little leg-pulling! Lell wrote to me the other day. Can you keep a secret Jean dear? She is very happy and tells me that I will be an uncle in March very likely.
Jean was a land girl during the week and WWSA (Women War Service Auxiliary) at weekends. She was in the transport division of WWSA and drove officers around on home guard manoeuvres. Jean's father bought her a Morris 8 to use because he did not want her driving his Oldsmobile.
On 12 September 1941 the New Zealand Division marched to Baggush, and on 18 September they moved to the south-east corner of the Baggush Box, a fortress by the Mediterranean coastline, 30 miles southwest of Mersa Matruh, and trained for attacks with Valentine tanks.
We are now guarding Prisoners of War. It makes quite an interesting change and our duties are not too arduous. I'm afraid that's all which we are at liberty to write. You must realise that if my letters seem to be somewhat scanty, it is due mainly to necessary rigid censor.
The washing is done for us. I believe the contractor does the washing in return for scraps from the mess room and cookhouses. These scraps are collected daily and sold or used by low-class restaurants in Cairo. Nice people eh! The scraps are thrown into covered drums and respectively labelled veges, bread, meat, etc. Nevertheless, I make a point of not frequenting low-class restaurants. The laundry is situated on the edge of the camp facing the open desert and it is just like a small native village during the day, as whole families come to do the job. As washing goes from dozens of units, you can imagine the fun I have trying to take back to
I'm sorry that you find it hard to write now that I am so much further away. Are you sure that you are not letting the censor cramp your style? Please don't be foolish about that as hundreds of letters pass through their hands daily and personal items in a stray letter could not possibly attract their notice. It would be a pity to withhold anything from one another that would help us towards better understanding and love as there is always the chance that we will not meet again or will be sorely tried before we do. Don't think that I am a little too morbid Dear but after all war is war you know.
As you will see by the address we have had another change. I have parted from many good cobbers but will soon make some more with this outfit. Life out here will be free of the dull routine of base. We had all seen enough of Cairo and won't care if we don't see it again. Our next leave I'll try to go to Alexandria but I guess that won't be till around Xmas and we may be anywhere by then. Life out here has more the atmosphere of a picnic as we make our own sleeping quarters and our food is brought to us and we eat in the open squatting around on rocks unless it is windy, cold or dusty. Yesterday there was a rotten dust storm. They are the very devil - fine dust gets everywhere and as we have no fresh water for washing one gets very uncomfortable.
Mum told me you had your hair permed and as you had not mentioned it I thought you must be trying to catch a new flame. Fooling apart though dear, if your affections were to change, for God's sake don't be self-sacrificing about it. Don't let any of the hard things I write sometimes hurt your feelings Jean darling, but one never knows when and where we'll meet again.
Things are going Ok here with a few air raids around now and again (behind us mainly). Perhaps they will put on a show tomorrow night. The old
Some of the waadis round here are not as bare as most of the desert and we see on manoeuvres an occasional herd of goats or sheep. In places very stunted fig trees grow together with poor specimens of box thorn and little shrubs and growth like fly-catchers, camel-grass and little heather-like bushes. Around an oasis a few miles away is a few date palms and bigger trees and an area of twitch grass. By the way there's no clear bubbling spring and pond but pipes down to an underground well.
You certainly must have a pile of letters if you have kept them all over the last two years and more. We here, of course, cannot keep any but one or two special ones. All envelopes with our addresses on have to be destroyed and we cannot keep a diary. As I sit here writing to you I have your photo propped up looking at me, and on the other side of it I have pasted a good snap of Mum and Dad.
"Since last I wrote I have been a long way, done and seen many things."
19-30 November 1941
Battle of Sidi Rezegh.
30 November 1941
24 Battalion overrun by Axis tanks and infantry. Denis is one of a handful from 24 Battalion to survive and avoid capture, but in escaping loses his paybook, wristwatch, pack and keepsakes from Jean.
1-5 December 1941
Remnants of 24 Battalion make their way back to Baggush.
5 December 1941-10 January 1942
Back to the "old hole" Baggush.
12 December 1941
24 Battalion is reformed, Denis returns to what is left of his platoon.
18 January - March 1942
Back to Maadi and on leave in Cairo.
Denis fought with 24 Battalion in the Battle of Sidi Rezegh in November 1941, the climax of the 8th Army's Operation Crusader and one of the most famous battles of the North African campaign.
This passage describes the prelude to the Battle of Sidi Rezegh.
In 1941 General Wavell's Western Desert Force was reorganised into the Eighth Army, after Rommel had arrived in Tripoli and reversed Wavell's earlier successes against the Italians. Churchill replaced Wavell with General Sir Claude Auchinleck, previously Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C) India. Reinforcements poured into Egypt: 600 tanks, 800 guns, Indian infantrymen from Syria, South Africans from Abyssinia, where they had played a major part in another rout of the Italians, and New Zealanders back from their ordeals in Greece and Crete.
The principal infantry formation was XIII Corps. This contained the three brigades of the 2nd New Zealand Division, led by Major General Bernard Freyberg VC, and the three brigades of the 4th Indian Division. The 1st Army Tank Brigade provided support.
The main armoured formation was XXX Corps. This was the British 7th Armoured Division with its famous badge of the jerboa, the desert rat. Also part of XXX Corps was the 1st South African Division.
On the opposing side was an Axis army nominally commanded by the Italian General Ettore Bastico, but taking its operational orders from Rommel. Infantry was the Italian XXI Corps and the German 90th Light Division. Rommel's armoured formations were the German Afrika Korps and the Italian XX Corps, which consisted of the Ariete (armoured) and Trieste (motorized) Divisions. The armoured divisions were considerably weaker than their British 8th Army opponents. The Italian tanks were obsolete and described as 'useless death traps' and 'mobile coffins.' The Afrika Korps had almost 250 German tanks, but 70 of these were Mark IIs armed only with machine guns, and 35 were Mark IVs unsuitable for action against hostile armour. Rommel did, however, have one great advantage. He possessed 96 50mm long-barrelled anti-tank guns, more effective than the British 2-pounders. In addition he had 35 of the even more deadly 88mm anti-aircraft guns, which in their desert role of tank-destroyers had already earned a reputation as formidable as it was well-deserved.
Tobruk was isolated, but being held by the famous 'Rats of Tobruk', many of them Australian. The Allies launched an offensive to relieve Tobruk: Operation Crusader. There was an apparently justifiable belief that 8th Army, as Churchill proclaimed in a stirring signal to Auchinleck, would 'add a page to history which will rank with Blenheim and with Waterloo.'
Auchinleck, however, was not on good terms with Churchill and seemed to go out of his way to ignore good advice from Churchill and others. Luckily all this drama at headquarters made little practical difference at the time. While it was taking place, Crusader was being won by the officers and men of the 8th Army - with the unintentional assistance of the enemy commander.
This passage describes the battle of Sidi Rezegh of November 1941, in which the New Zealand Division played a major role. Denis was in B Company, 24 Battalion, 6 Brigade, 2 NZ Division.
Rommel was preparing for a third attack on Tobruk. It was General Auchinleck's intention that the Eighth Army should drive the enemy from Cyrenaica and at the same time relieve Tobruk. His plan, in brief, was that XXX Corps, comprising most of the armour, should threaten the approaches of Tobruk and force an armoured encounter, while XIII Corps, in which 2 NZ Division was included, should isolate the frontier fortress line and later mop it up from the west.
On 9 November 1941 came the order for 2 NZ Division to assemble in the desert at Qaret el Kanayis. A field regiment, anti-tank and anti-aircraft batteries, a machine-gun company, and a field company of engineers were among the units [in 6 Brigade]. Travelling via the Baggush-Matruh road and thence south-west along the Siwa track, the group convoy, comprising about a thousand vehicles spaced out ten to the mile, was nearly 100 miles long and took six hours and a half to pass a given point. As Qaret el Kanayis was 70 miles away, the first vehicles of the column were arriving at their destination while the last were leaving the starting point. 24 Battalion was fortunate in being well up near the head of the column. All its vehicles had arrived by 5.30 p.m. and the men had made themselves comfortable for the night before darkness fell.
Having rested a day at El Kanayis, the whole division moved 50 miles west by daylight on 15 November, in a mass of widely spaced vehicles covering an immensity of ground, to a point about half-way between El Kanayis and the Libyan frontier. Here another short halt was made, and the men spent their hours of leisure playing football. Much to everyone's surprise no air attack had yet been made, but henceforward moves took place by night along an axis of advance marked every 1000 yards by green lights, shaded and facing to the rear. Advancing in a westerly direction by stages of 25 or 30 miles nightly, with vehicles dispersed at wide intervals during daylight, 2 NZ Division arrived on the night of 18 November at the great barbed-wire barrier built by the Italians and stretching from the Mediterranean coast southward along the Libyan frontier, deep into the desert. Lightning flashes lit the northern sky as they entered Cyrenaica and camped in the divisional area a few miles beyond the frontier.
On 19 November 1941 the Division was assembled south of Libyan Sheferzen. From there they moved north to the line of the Trigh el Abd, a desert highway crossing the frontier at Bir Sheferzen. The New Zealanders arrived after dark at their new position, ten miles south-west of Sidi Omar, and remained there throughout the following day. By 21 November enemy tanks were retiring westward and it appeared that the armoured encounter was going in Eighth Army's favour. The battle's second phase was due to begin. Crossing the Trigh el Abd, 2 NZ Division, led by its Divisional Cavalry and with 5, 4, and 6 Brigades following in that order, moved north-west towards the Trigh Capuzzo. At dusk 5 Brigade was swinging east to bottle up enemy forces in Sollum and Bardia, while 4 Brigade held its former line of advance with the object of cutting the Bardia-Tobruk road. Sixth Brigade was near Bir Tgheit, still some way south of the Trigh Capuzzo, when orders arrived for it to incline left and move to Bir el Hariga. Thereafter, passing under command of XXX Corps, it would advance westward towards Gambut and Bir el Chleta to clear that region of the enemy.
Denis later wrote to Jean of his experiences in the Battle of Sidi Rezegh – see his letter of 7 June 1942.
Sixth Brigade moved on throughout the night with 24 Battalion leading, screened by the carriers of 25 Battalion, while its own carrier platoon guarded the left flank. The surprise was mutual when 25 Battalion carriers encountered 20 Germans and took them prisoner without a shot being fired. Heavy rain had fallen, and an hour before midnight the brigade ran into a patch of soft mud in which most of its vehicles stuck fast. Daylight would have found them a helpless, sitting target for hostile aircraft, but two hours' hard work saw them extricated from the bog and on firm ground beyond.
A squadron of Valentine tanks was due to join the Brigade Group at this point, but no tanks appeared and an officer sent in search of them found that they also had struck a muddy patch in the night. Of the squadron's 16 tanks, four were still stuck-one hopelessly. The runners having been guided in, 6 Brigade started off along the Trigh Capuzzo for Bir el Chleta at 3 p.m. on 22 November, with 24 Battalion still acting as advanced guard. The Carrier Platoon moved ahead as a protective screen and at 5 p.m. saw an enemy convoy astride the road south of Gambut. Word was at once sent back, but as preparations were being made to attack them, the enemy vehicles moved off. A few Germans belonging to the staff of the Gambut aerodrome were surprised and taken prisoner and the aerodrome itself was reconnoitred by a carrier patrol. The dugouts were all found to be empty, but everywhere there were signs of recent occupation. When 6 Brigade halted for the night at dusk it was still some way east of Bir el Chleta.
On 23 November Sixth Brigade arrived within striking distance of Point 175, only to find it held by the enemy in considerable strength. Without delay 25 Battalion was ordered to attack, with two troops of anti-tank guns under command, while at the same time 26 Battalion, with one battery of 6 Field Regiment and one troop from 33 Anti-Tank Battery, was sent to make contact with the South Africans, whose position had been pointed out by a liaison officer recently arrived from Corps Headquarters. The 24th remained in reserve on the escarpment near Wadi esc Sciomar.
Soon after crossing the start line 25 Battalion was halted and reinforced by a squadron of Valentine tanks, as it had become apparent that an armoured force formed part of the defence. Accompanied by the battalion's carriers, the Valentines advanced on Point 175 at full speed, leaving the infantry, who had debussed to attack, far behind.
Within a short time the New Zealanders were being counter-attacked in front, on their right flank, and even in their right rear. Pressure increased; the battalion commander, Lieutenant-Colonel McNaught, was wounded and, having no alternative, he sent back asking for assistance. Colonel Shuttleworth was at once ordered forward with C and D Companies of his [24] battalion to take charge of the situation and reinforce the hard-pressed defenders, who had been forced to give some ground and were now about 400 yards east of the hill summit.
Activity died down as darkness fell. 25 Battalion was disorganised, 26 Battalion was hard pressed, the South Africans had been overrun and there was the possibility of a tank attack in the morning. The only troops not yet committed to action were A and B Companies of 24 Battalion.
At 10 a.m. on the 24th November B Company [Denis' company] was sent forward through C and D to capture the summit of Point 175, from which our troops had been forced back the previous day. Captain Brown was instructed not to attempt a frontal attack, but to infiltrate under cover of the desert scrub and accomplish what he could with as few casualties as possible. His company reached the objective without much difficulty, but once in position came under heavy fire from a blockhouse and adjacent entrenchments west of Point 175. By nightfall there were about thirty casualties, among them Brown himself, who insisted, against all advice, on leaving the dressing station and limping back into action, only to be fatally wounded next day.
The troops on Point 175 were continually under fire from this strongpoint [the blockhouse], and the ground they occupied was too stony to allow digging in. Concluding that the obvious and only remedy for conditions so unfavourable was a further advance, Brigadier Barrowclough issued orders for a night attack along the escarpment to capture the blockhouse and dig in on its further side.
Denis himself had a lucky escape on his first day of action, when a bullet struck his helmet, leaving a dent but no serious injury.
At midnight Colonel Shuttleworth held a company commander's conference and explained that the attack would be made with D and C Companies, right and left forward, and with B and A right and
Opposition was encountered early on in the wadi, but this was soon overcome, though pockets of resistance were passed by in the darkness and remained to harass the transport that followed up later in the morning. Having crossed the wadi, the leading companies were approaching the blockhouse when heavy fire from behind the building itself pinned them to the ground. No. 13 Platoon of C Company advanced upon the blockhouse but met with murderous fire and was practically wiped out.
A Company and Bren gun carriers made a successful left flank attack and all the strong points and 200 prisoners were captured. With the whole objective gained by 9.30 a.m., 24 and 26 Battalions now held a line running north and south, facing along the ridge towards Sidi Rezegh, with the blockhouse immediately in rear.
It was now more than ever essential to gain possession of the three vital ridges that overlooked the main German line of communications and dominated the southern approaches to Tobruk. The safety of Eighth Army supply lines depended very largely on the ability to gain and hold Sidi Rezegh and Ed Duda. Ammunition was running low; there remained only 60 rounds per gun for the 25-pounders, with no immediate prospect of more arriving. Moreover, some depot, preferably Tobruk, was urgently needed to receive our wounded and a considerable number of prisoners.
The 24th and 25th Battalions, the latter reduced almost to company strength [by the previous day's fighting], were to capture Sidi Rezegh and form a defensive perimeter ready for occupation by the brigade's transport on the following morning. With this objective taken, 21 and 26 Battalions were to advance to Ed Duda and there join forces with the garrison of Tobruk.
From a starting point immediately south of the blockhouse 24 and 25 Battalions moved off at 11 p.m., accompanied by their fighting transport only. While going forward the leading companies of the 24th (A and B) encountered several pockets of resistance manned by Italian troops. Some of them fought to the last, while others fired a few token rounds and then surrendered. The Italians taken prisoner were a source of some embarrassment as it was not possible at that time to escort them to the rear.
Passing to the north of Sidi Rezegh aerodrome, the battalion advanced about three miles and, having gained the objective, formed a perimeter with B Company, reinforced by a platoon of machine-gunners, facing west; A and C looked north over the escarpment, and D Company was at the perimeter's eastern end. The southern side was occupied by 25 Battalion. The 24th Battalion's headquarters took up a position inside the perimeter.
The perimeter, however, did not last long. At dawn [on 25 November] A and C Companies came under withering fire and were forced back south-eastwards.
21 Battalion "vanished" overnight. It transpired later that 21 Battalion, having moved up from the southernmost escarpment, as directed, to join forces with those of Colonel Page and come under that officer's command, had failed to make contact because of the darkness, whereupon Colonel Allen had decided to go forward alone to the mosque of Sidi Rezegh. Crossing the escarpment from south to north, with the mosque on his right hand, he had passed, by a disastrous miscalculation, right through the enemy forces confronting 24 Battalion and had arrived on the Trigh Capuzzo. Dawn found his men surrounded, with retreat up the escarpment presenting the only chance of safety. One entire company succeeded in reaching the 24th's lines. A remnant under the Commanding Officer held out in a wadi for the rest of the day. Many men were killed, wounded, or taken prisoner, and a few made their way back to Brigade Headquarters.
Sidi Rezegh was taken but there were pockets still held by the enemy.
Around Sidi Rezegh mosque a strip of the escarpment, here and there indented with wadis, was still held by the enemy, who kept up a harassing fire. At first light [on the 26 November] the strongest resistance had come from the direction of Ed Duda. A and C Companies had been forced back, and later in the morning enemy forces began to gather in the west in obvious preparation for a counter-attack, which soon developed. Supported by artillery fire, infantry and a few tanks assaulted the western face of our position and succeeded in overrunning some of our infantry and a platoon of machine-gunners, who were obliged to surrender, but the rest of the line held firmly.
Nests of opposition maintained themselves as constant sources of annoyance in the numerous wadis that gashed its northern face, making all movement dangerous for the New Zealanders and taking a steady toll of casualties. At a unit commanders' conference late that afternoon, the attending officers lay flat on open ground under shell and mortar fire, with maps spread before them, while any movement such as a raising of the head drew rifle and machine-gun fire upon them as well.
The decision was to eliminate all enemy pockets from the escarpment despite the exhaustion of the troops.
Once again the New Zealand soldier's peculiar aptitude for fighting by night with the bayonet was to be used to advantage.
At 11 p.m. on 26 November B and D Companies of 24 Battalion swept westward across the perimeter
Before dawn reports had been received that 4 Brigade had taken Ed Duda and had relieved the garrison of Tobruk. This was glad news, but around Sidi Rezegh daylight revealed a battlefield strewn with dead. Our men lay at the very muzzles of enemy machine and anti-tank guns, the bodies of those hit by the latter being horribly mangled. Nevertheless, sadly depleted though it was, 6 Brigade now held the field as unchallenged victors.
Guarding the position's western approaches, 24 Battalion formed the segment of a circle with its companies facing outwards-B on the right close by Sidi Rezegh mosque, then A, D, and C on the left of the line, turning its front towards the south-west. This was the position most liable to counter-attack
The rest of the day (27 November) was relatively peaceful, and that night the exhausted troops were able to enjoy the sleep they needed so badly. Though weary, they were not discouraged by the sufficiently obvious trend of events, and a few bold spirits still regarded the whole proceeding as an adventure likely to provide both interest and amusement for those taking part in it. With the enemy driven from the escarpment, prisoners were sent to the rear and their captors turned to other pursuits. Corporal Simpson [of B Company] describes his own personal experience:
After getting rid of this cargo [prisoners] we settled down to a bit of good solid scrounging. There were about 30 motor bikes in one clump so needless to say this interested yours truly-I wasn't the only one either. Well, that day passed and we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly; we also had a peaceful night, the first since the show began. Next morning we got plenty of fresh water and were able to get a real good wash, and later had breakfast, then set out for our amusements again. We had a lot of fun this morning [28 November] but unfortunately it was too good to last, for just as we were having lunch old Jerry opened up with his mortar and artillery
During this attack, a ruse by the enemy, pretending to be South African prisoners returning to Allied lines, successfully tricked 24 Battalion and 100 men of A and D companies were taken prisoner. The battle continued all day and the New Zealanders were hard pressed to hold Sidi Rezegh.
The enemy withdrew as darkness fell, leaving 6 Brigade still in possession of the ridge but in a situation that had been growing hourly less secure, with forces diminished by the loss of two entire companies, besides other casualties.
Sixth Brigade was now threatened from the east, west, and south; its vehicle park on the airfield was overlooked and in danger of coming under gunfire at dawn. The 1st South African Brigade was expected to arrive from the south next day, but unforeseen chance might delay its coming. Under these circumstances Brigadier Barrowclough suggested that his transport be moved within the Tobruk perimeter, but the Divisional Commander demurred, consenting, however, to allow 6 Brigade Headquarters and all B Echelon vehicles to be shifted on to low ground north of the escarpment. Still intent on advancing further west towards El Adem and widening the Tobruk corridor, the commander of XIII Corps insisted that present positions at Sidi Rezegh and Belhamed must be maintained at all costs. No course remained, therefore, but for Barrowclough to distribute his depleted forces to the best possible advantage.
Night of 28-29 November:
The 24th and 26th Battalions, under Colonel Shuttleworth, were to hold their present positions, the high ground adjacent to Sidi Rezegh mosque, and dispose their weapon pits to face south and west. The strength of the 24th's rifle companies had been reduced to little more than a hundred men. For these troops, wearied by five days and nights of constant fighting, all chance of respite seemed almost infinitely remote. As far as could be foreseen, the immediate future held nothing but heavy fighting in store.
In the morning, when Colonel Shuttleworth made a tour of inspection, he found his men still in good heart and ready for whatever might befall. There was sporadic shelling later in the day, and Padre Watson of 24 Battalion, aroused the admiration of an observant corporal who watched him carefully while he was reading the burial service under fire to see whether he hurried unduly or missed out any of the prayers.
The day of 29 November was relatively uneventful for 24 Battalion. General von Ravenstein, commander of 21 Panzer Division, had been captured with complete plans for Rommel's returning armour for the counter-attack on the NZ positions. The South Africans were really coming at last and all units had been warned to expect their appearance. A South African officer arrived by armoured car at Brigadier Barrowclough's headquarters, informing him that 1 South African Brigade (beginning, by this time, to be regarded as a mythical formation) was actually advancing on Point 175. For a while it seemed that the situation was improving. The impression was illusory.
At 5.10 p.m., with startling suddenness, the voice of Major Fitzpatrick, commanding 21 Battalion, came over the brigade telephone, saying, 'They are into my lines with three tanks and are taking prisoners. Artillery support at once for God's sake. Brigade at once called upon 6 Field Regiment, but it was already too late. Fitzpatrick's voice was heard once again, but his sentence broke off unfinished-'Everyone has left, what shall I do? They are right on top of me….'
The mystery enveloping this disaster was explained when stragglers began to make their way down the escarpment into the brigade transport lines. Expectantly awaiting the South Africans, the men of 21 Battalion had seen tanks approaching with open turrets and crews waving a friendly greeting. All unawares, they had allowed the tanks to come right in amongst them. The crews then slammed down their turrets and opened fire.
The morning of 30 November dawned gloriously fine, but the tactical situation promised conditions of storm and stress. Sixth Brigade was now virtually surrounded. Some faint hope was at first entertained that Point 175 might be in South African hands, but patrols sent out by 25 Battalion soon proved the contrary. The enemy's way along the escarpment from the east now lay open. The 15th Panzer Division was concentrating south-west of Sidi Rezegh. In the absence of 1 South African Brigade the New Zealanders' southern flank was exposed. Eighth Army's hold on the Tobruk corridor could only be described as precarious.
Not least disquieting of all adverse circumstances was the fact of 6 Brigade's diminished strength. The 24th Battalion consisted of four officers and 159 other ranks. The 25th and 26th Battalions had been less severely mauled, but the 21st was reduced below company strength.
The enemy attacked about 2:30pm on 30 November with tanks and infantry. The defenders had insufficient firepower to withstand the armoured attack and the positions were overrun. The 24th Battalion now ceased to exist as such for the time being. Only those who were fortunate enough to remain concealed had any chance of escape.
The Adjutant, Intelligence Officer, and all four commanders of the rifle companies of 24 Battalion were either killed, wounded, or taken prisoner. Having rounded up what survivors could be found, the tanks pulled out at dusk, and only then did the German infantry come on in mass, 'kicking up a hell of a row'. This was the moment when a number of our men who had been lying low seized the opportunity of making their escape.
Of 24 Battalion, just three officers and 60 other ranks succeeded in reaching Brigade Headquarters on the night of 30 November. They then moved back with 6 Brigade across the Libyan frontier and eventually arrived at Baggush on 5 December.
Denis was one of these few 24 Battalion survivors of the Battle of Sidi Rezegh. In his escape he lost his watch, his photos from home and his all-important army paybook.
This passage describes the retreat of the New Zealand Division and the outcome of the battle.
Early on 1 December, the Germans continued their advance, driving the New Zealanders from Belhamed also. Most of Freyberg's transport vehicles took refuge in Tobruk, the defenders of which were now once more cut off from the main body of Eighth Army. At this point the British tanks finally arrived on the scene but after covering a New Zealand retreat to Zaafran, the British armour returned to its former position south-east of Sidi Rezegh. Freyberg's artillery, however, was able to hold off a further thrust by 15th Panzer, while 21st Panzer, which could have blocked his line of retreat, obligingly chose instead to move westward out of the way. The New Zealanders fell back towards the frontier in good order.
"It seemed as though Rommel had achieved another success. In reality he had brought his army to the brink of ruin. The New Zealanders had not been overcome easily. Rommel had suffered further savage losses and his men were now mentally and physically exhausted. Even those New Zealanders who had been taken prisoner would report later that their captors were 'practically sleepwalkers' who showed no sign of elation."
On 7 December Rommel finally acknowledged defeat. The bulk of his forces he ordered back to a new line running south of Gazala which had been fortified by the Italians earlier in the year.
General Bernard Freyberg, commander of 2 NZ Division, later wrote about this battle:
"[The 24th] Battalion fought a memorable Battle at Sidi Rezegh, in November 1941. I have always looked on that campaign as the highlight of the New Zealand forces in this war."
When the survivors of Sidi Rezegh arrived back at their old lines at Baggush they were joined by the portion of the battalion left behind at Sidi Haneish - a group so chosen that it might form the nucleus of a new battalion in the event of disaster. Under the circumstances this had proved to be
Related by Michael Caves, Christmas 2003.
It was at the time of the Battle of Sidi Rezegh and another situation where our tanks didn't come up and German panzers came instead. Our troops took the hill and fought back the Germans. Denis and his mate had condensed milk and found some German schnapps. They mixed them together and stayed in their trench. It was a really hot day, they got drunk and fell asleep. They woke up just before dusk and looked up to see the Germans coming over the hill. They were still drunk and fled down the hill, falling all over the place, tracer bullets going over them, but the Germans didn't hit them. Denis and his mate had guns with them but couldn't aim straight to defend themselves and escaped the bullets by falling over. They hid down a fox hole. The Germans thought they were dead and left. They reached their own lines safely that night. The battalion regrouped and retook the hill the next night. But backup didn't arrive and the Germans tanks came up and took many New Zealanders POW.
After the battle of Sidi Rezegh only three of the original 90 men were left of B Company, so Denis had to make lots of new chums. New fellows and officers came along. Denis wouldn't take rank - he was able to get out of it. He didn't want to become a target.
In World War II a New Zealand infantry section consisted of 10 men. A corporal led the section, one man carried a Tommy gun, one a Bren gun and the other men carried Lee Enfield 303 rifles. Dennis was an accurate shooter, but didn't want to get picked to be a sniper and intentionally scored poorly in training. They were having shots one day and he was caught out, so the officers knew he had been avoiding being noticed as a sharpshooter. Denis said if your rifle worked you never open it up to let the sand in. Some jokers were always cleaning their rifles as they were trained to do, but that let the sand in and their guns jammed. Denis never had a failure with his. Later on Denis had the Tommy gun for his section of 10 men. He felt like a whole army on his own. "Sat them back on their backsides!" he said. Both the Bren and Tommy were machine guns. Dennis had a go with a Bren, but didn't like it. It was too accurate and hit the same spot several times when what you wanted with a machine gun was to spray bullets around an area. This is why you see Bren gunners in movies having to move their gun from side to side. The Tommy gun was less accurate so you could get the desired impact more easily.
Since last I wrote I have been a long way, done and seen many things which it is not every man's lot to experience. I hope darling that you have not been too worried about me as you must have realised by my last letters and the newspapers
You'll be sorry to hear dear that I lost all my gear including pay-book, your photos and my watch. I was lucky not being taken prisoner one day and only escaped through sheer luck and ability to outrun 3" and 5" mortars. That was not my only lucky escape as on the first day I collected a dent in my tin hat which knocked me bandy for a couple of hours. It was only sheer luck and God's grace that saved me from leaving more than my hair.
Yesterday I got new clothing, good stuff too. I was able to strip and wash in some water I heated and change into fresh gear. My previous change and wash had been into German gear looted from the first Hun [German] camp that we took with a bayonet charge. We had a good time in there and picked up a lot of gear and souvenirs which later I lost. We had a good feed of captured food there. Sardines, German black bread done up in cellophane and silver paper was lovely with some Italian jam. Everything has its brighter sides and often we were as happy as kids at a picnic but I'm afraid many homes will not have a festive Xmas.
I sent a cable to both you and Mum at the first opportunity and only hope that they were not delayed. Since I have been back here an orderly room clerk was urgently required and I am doing the job and, at a time like this, I am desperately busy with reports of casualties, missing and equipment requirements. However I am glad to have something to occupy my time and my only regret is lack of time to get away a letter to you and Mum before now.
I am writing this by candle and lamp of combined cigarette tin, string and kerosene. I am living in very comfortable quarters in the orderly room which is a large dug-out previously used as an officers mess room. I thus have a table and settee made of sandbags draped with tent fly. The weather is very cold now especially at night but dug in and with my three new blankets I'm as snug as a 'bug in a rug.'
We are all settling down again in the local routine. Today I shifted back to what is left of my old platoon, as a reinforcement who is a qualified accountant has taken on the orderly room job. I am comfortably housed now in a good dug-out. I have a couple of boxes for gear and a few bags to cover the floor so I am living in style. My sleeping partner is a jolly decent Maori chap with whom I went through the scrap. It is great being back here and staying peacefully in one spot after our nomadic life of the last month. Our beds too, just quietly, are very popular after the nights we spent laying out, often under fire and seldom warm.
Nearly all who have come back will be able to have a week in Alexandria or Cairo. I may as well have a few decent holidays over here and see Palestine if possible. After seeing things up there [in battle] one feels the need of a break and does not see so much advantage in saving too drastically.
We must beat them in Africa here, and the Russians are doing great stuff. Of the Japanese situation I know little but today I see that Germany and Italy have declared war on the Yanks so things should turn out all right if the U.S. fleet can down the Japs quickly in a big naval battle. We, the NZ Div [Division], are not likely to see front line fighting for sometime again in my opinion.
I wish I could spend an evening back at your
By now no doubt full casualty lists will have been published and you will realise how fortunate I was when you see how many of my cobbers are in it. We cannot mention names when writing home as too often false news gets home that way.
Jean, tell anyone that you know who has lost someone close as a P.O.W. up here to the Huns, that all our chaps were treated wonderfully well. I know many chaps who were prisoners for quite a few days and all speak most highly of the Germans' treatment while in their power. The Hun seems to respect the N.Z's very much and many cases of special courtesy to our chaps have been brought to notice. Really Jean I would not go on leave without my old badge. We are damn proud to be Kiwis.
I full appreciate how hard it must have been to continue writing news and gossip to me when you did not know if I would ever read it and to keep your worries out of your letters.
We are now sick and tired of rain. If it rains much more I don't see how there can be a desert. We have hardly had a decent fine day since coming out of Libya.
I guess there has been excitement in NZ lately. It is well for them to be prepared for as possible for eventualities any way. A pity we could not return to fight for our native shores eh!
The nights have been much warmer, for a while there it was bitterly cold. Today I stripped off and had a good wash in some water I heated up. We are now getting about a kerosene tin of water a week just for washing purposes. We have no difficulty this time of year in making our bottle a day of drinking water spin out.
One of our chaps returned from the desert with a Tommy [English] unit the other day after having been a P.O.W. for 3 weeks. He spoke well of Hun treatment but the Italians are not so hot. At Benghazi, where they were all placed in a cinema for the night, he and two others climbed up into the rafters and thus escaped being marched out onto waiting boats and shipped to Italy and Greece. He was able to tell me definitely about many others who I'm afraid we'll not see now until after the war. By gee! I had some narrow escapes all right - what with stopping one in my tin hat. It would not be too nice in a prison camp in Europe and worse as the war goes on.
Harry came up to see me this afternoon and we had a large afternoon snack of tinned fruits, cream and cakes. For tea we had a tin of oysters and a tin of spaghetti and are even now contemplating our supplies with supper in view. I'm afraid our stomach plays a large part in our pleasures these days when so few of our usual desires are available. We will be glad to have pictures and music and clean clothes and surroundings again. When I was on leave I was always doing myself up - this life makes a chap more finicky than ever when he has the opportunity.
There is little news at present, but soon my letters may be more interesting again as when Choatie and I get together we seem to be able to write great letters after having reached
Sunday we had leave from noon till midnight. I went to Cairo. Many more N.Z girls have newly arrived. They look very nice in their new uniforms but it is no place for women and I'm glad no women folk of mine are here. We unfortunately struck Cairo on one of its meatless days and had to content ourselves with egg omelettes, veges and fruit.
I can't remember how much I wrote or just what I said in the first letter. A lot we were not allowed to say you know. My pay book I lost that day [of battle]. I could see what was happening and saw little show of getting out so thought I'd hide on my person a 100 Marks & 75 Lirea that I had picked up in my pay book and photos. They would have been useful in a prison camp if I could get them inside. While I had my pay book out things happened fast and a 3" mortar shell landed close enough to me to cover me with dirt and rocks and the first Hun infantry came over the ridge 20yds from us. We shot the Huns and cleared out in the gathering dusk and when I reached B Echelon [body of troops] my pay book was missing. Whether I dropped it when the mortar landed or lost it from my pocket later, I don't know. As for my watch I had just broken the strap and had to put it in my pack and all the packs were on the platoon truck. The truck went up in smoke the next morning. I was flying too fast for me to risk salvaging even a keepsake from you darling. It took enough effort to get up and run when old Cappy Brown [Captain Brown] gave the order to the poor remnants of us to get out as best we could. I'll never forget a moment of the mad scramble that followed. It was hectic.
A big naval victory can soon stop the Japanese menace and we are daily expecting heartening news. Surely in Europe the Russian Campaign has given Britain the required break to launch a big Spring offensive. We'll hope so anyway. We may have a slight move soon for a new type of training which will be a change and interesting.
This afternoon we went down to the mobile bath unit for a hot shower, and as the dust storm had gone down it was very much needed and welcome. This part of Egypt is new to me but you may have seen in papers that another N.Z. unit has had manoeuvres here. It is good working on and around the water and getting a swim. We see a terrible lot of shipping passing up and down. Of course I can't tell you exactly where I am.
I guess many are losing a lot of sleep and their tempers these days [in NZ]. For myself, although the fall of Singapore is a bad blow, I feel that the whole situation could very easy be changed almost over night in our favour by a U.S. naval victory in the Pacific. In Europe this summer should see us on top for Britain has had a fairly easy time through Russian campaign to reequip.
We have both had another birthday and we are still apart. Mum's cake arrived just right and I celebrated my ¼ century with a few bottles of Canadian beer and an open-air picture.
The New Zealand troops had a picture theatre at the Maadi Camp. The makeshift building clad with ripped kit bags was called Shaftos after the proprietor. Unfortunately, the films that were shown were very old and in atrocious condition. One evening, when the film ended as usual in complete breakdown, the troops rioted and the theatre collapsed! An open-air amphitheatre type of cinema, named "al-Djem", was later built on "the Hill", the Administrative site which happened to be on a higher level than the rest of the camp.
We have done nothing interesting since last I wrote as dust storms interrupted some manoeuvres and gave us a day or two in our tents playing cards which is about the highlight of the week. We are a pretty mixed crowd in our tent and so have many interesting discussions. One chap was married before leaving home and the question of the right or wrong of it is often argued in his absence. The question is never decided to everyone's satisfaction.
I wonder how you feel about it now Sweetheart, whether you ever regret that we never linked our lives more finally. For myself, Jean, I am still sure we were right not to marry especially now that the war is dragging out so long. I don't think we can be home before late Spring 1943. We spend lots of time trying to reckon out our probable movements and when we'll see N.Z. again and my bet for our return is Oct 1943. However by that time we will have been separated well over two years and been through many harsh experiences which will change us a lot. You will be a grown woman when I return and I much older than my age. It is better that we will still be single for a while to get acquainted with our new character and maybe changed thoughts and desires.
Just because it is my duty to say so I'm going to write that which I hope you'll read calmly and not feel hurt about Sweetheart. I trust your love for me and mine for you will not change, but love after all is beyond control and if your fancy were to wander Dear, as time goes on, please know that I would not have you force yourself to cling to me and our engagement. I would not do anything insane Sweetheart. It would just be one more smack from the war and far better to be told about it over here than when the world is sane again. Please don't think I love you less. I love you more and think and dream of you more than ever.
Related by Jean Caves and Michael Caves, Christmas 2003.
Getting sunburnt was a court-martial offence for Denis' unit.
Denis had much respect for the Germans. They had the best training, the best gear, they were professionals. He liked the ordinary Germans; it was the Nazis that
During a big push in the desert it came down to the will to live versus battle weariness. For some it seemed easier to get shot than to cope with sand in their food. So the New Zealand infantry were told the Japanese had landed in New Zealand. The rationale being that with nothing to live for they would take more risks in battle.
Denis said you were scared until something happened, then your adrenaline starts racing. Mates died and therefore you would want revenge.
On one occasion an Italian sniper pinned them down for three days. Denis had spotted a slight depression in the ground and crawled up a dry creek bed. It was flat country, but enough of a hollow to run the risk of trying to get behind the sniper. The sniper was in the trunk of a dead tree. Denis managed to crawl up close with the Tommy gun and shot him. It was the only time that Denis took a souvenir off a dead body – a wristwatch. Denis took the souvenir because the one guy had been holding down their group for days and maybe because Denis had lost his own watch.
Armour piercing shells and bullets would bounce across the desert for miles like skipping stones. Sometimes soldiers in camp would see bullets fly past from battles miles away that they could not hear.
One time in battle Denis dived into a trench and noticed a body at the bottom. He didn't have time to move the body so he stood on it for the day until the battle ceased. Then he heard someone gurgling. The person under him was still alive but with half his head missing.
The Maori battalion would perform a haka before battle then charge. The chanting would frighten the Germans. The Maori battalion had a reputation for ripping in with bayonets. The Germans feared them; they thought that if they surrendered they would be killed anyway.
On another occasion the new soldiers in the 24th were ordered to get prisoners and find out what was happening out front. Denis' 30 man platoon set out to do this. They climbed up rocks, down to a basin and saw a group of Germans setting up camp. They saw that one was setting up a heavy machine gun in a defensive position and Denis knew his platoon would have to act fast or they would be in trouble. His new officer disagreed, saying that the training manual said that model of German machine gun took a certain amount of time to set up, but Denis knew the Germans could do it much more quickly, and if they got the gun going then Denis's platoon would be pinned down. He disobeyed orders and got down amongst the Germans with his Tommy gun. His gun had impact and the Germans must have thought there were more New Zealand soldiers than there actually were and surrendered. Denis had to take 40 prisoners on his own because his officer who'd disagreed about the machine gun emplacement was sulking. Denis could've been reprimanded for disobeying orders, but was let off because of the POWs he'd taken. On the way back behind the lines, alone with the prisoners, he used his Tommy gun like a cattle dog with the prisoners – bursts of fire dropped around their feet. His heroism was mentioned in dispatches and should have been awarded but the officer's Landrover carrying the dispatches got blown to pieces the next morning.
Denis didn't have much respect for some soldiers who were awarded medals. Often they were the bullies with followers and took credit without necessarily deserving it. The real men who deserved the medals were quiet and got on with their jobs.
One time after the war Denis was out farming in his paddock. A car backfired down the road and Denis jumped into a ditch, a natural reaction for a soldier. Denis returned to the house caked in mud.
"We are now in Syria and the dust and sweat of Egypt far behind."
Late January 1942
24 Battalion moves from Baggush back to Maadi.
12 March 1942
24 Battalion departs Egypt for Syria.
Mid March - mid April 1942
24 Battalion based at Afrine Camp, north-west Syria, guarding the Syrian-Turkish frontier. A ceremonial march through Aleppo took place during this period.
Mid April 1942
24 Battalion moved to Hotham, 12 miles north-west of Zabboud.
27 May 1942
Evening's leave in Baalbek.
19 June 1942
Orders to return to Egypt.
27 June 1942
Rest camp at Sidi Bishr, near Alexandria, on leave in Alexandria.
24 Battalion moved from Baggush back to Maadi at the end of January. For a few days 6 Brigade was held in readiness to suppress civil commotion in Cairo, should such take place. King Farouk of Egypt was to be coerced by a show of force into a more amenable frame of mind. The 24th Battalion's part in this operation was to maintain order in the suburb of Sharia Shubra. Taking up quarters in Abbassia barracks, it staged a series of marches through the streets with bayonets fixed, the men having been previously instructed to look as grim as possible. After four days of this procedure, when Farouk had been reduced to a more pliable mood, the battalion returned once more to Maadi.
In early 1942 Vichy France had recently been dispossessed of Syria. To guard against the threat of an Axis attack on Egypt through Turkey or southern Russia, the Ninth Army moved into positions covering the approaches that led into Palestine through the ranges of Syria.
Author Stewart in 'Early Battles of the Eighth Army' comments on 'Auchinleck's readiness to load the blame for mishaps onto the shoulders of the men who were doing the fighting. He felt uneasy about the disrespectful soldiers from the Dominions. Perhaps this is why, after Crusader, the two finest divisions in the Middle East, 9th Australian and 2nd New Zealand, were kept uselessly in Syria - despite Churchill's protests - until it was almost too late.'
6 Brigade began to move into Syria at the end of February. The 24th Battalion crossed the Suez Canal by ferry on 12 March and continued its journey alternately by train and motor transport via El Kehir, Haifa, Beirut, Rayak, and Aleppo, finally arriving late on the night of 14 March at Afrine camp.
6 Brigade established its headquarters at Aleppo to provide a measure of surveillance over the Kara Sou valley from behind the Syrian border. The 24th Battalion occupied the salient of Syrian territory jutting north-west towards Anatolia, and commanding the most likely way of approach for a hostile army.
The 24th Battalion had its headquarters at Afrine, a large village 35 miles north-west of Aleppo, where there was a well appointed camp of corrugated iron huts, but only a small portion of the unit remained there. A control post, one platoon strong, was maintained at Meidane Ekbes, where the railway entered Syria at the north-westerly salient of its territory. A forward headquarters was established at Radjou, another village 20 miles north-west of Afrine, under command of Major Webb. At an equal distance to the south-west another control post was stationed at El Hamman, where the main road from Afrine crossed into Turkish territory, and due east of this point, eight miles within the Syrian border, another company was maintained to supply detachments in this part of 24 Battalion's zone.
The New Zealanders were ordered to adopt a policy of 'showing the flag' whenever and wherever possible. The culminating stage of this policy was a ceremonial march through the streets of Aleppo by New Zealand infantry and artillery, the Royal Air Force and Free French cavalry, in which A and B Companies of 24 Battalion took part.
Rations were lean in Syria. In fact this was probably the only period of the war when the men were really
British and American Red Cross authorities were arranging for food to be sent to famine threatened areas, and one of the first duties the New Zealanders were required to undertake after arriving in Syria was the equitable distribution of these supplies. On 17 March 5000 pounds of flour were distributed at Radjou, and a larger amount at Afrine a few days later. From outlying villages came men with scores of small donkeys to collect their share and pack-load it home. The ceremony of distribution, though organised by the methodical West, was thoroughly oriental in tone and atmosphere. Stately elders and headmen of villages vouched for each man and the number of his dependants as he came forward to collect his share. There was some chattering and delay-for here in the East time is neither valued nor measured-and then the loaded donkeys, guided or driven by men, moved off to return to their own places. Thus might the scene have appeared in a pageant of some ancient, patriarchal period; thus it might actually have taken place in the days when Joseph's brethren went to buy corn in Egypt.
Heavy rain deluged northern Syria when 6 Brigade first arrived there; then came frosts and cold winds by day. Not until towards the end of March did the sodden ground become passable for motor vehicles. Though the climate was invigorating, the country was far from healthy. Malaria was always rife in the hot season, and this inflicted the necessity for irksome precautions. The men slept under mosquito nets, carefully tucked in to avoid leaving gaps which might admit mosquitoes; huts and tents were sprayed at dawn and dusk; boots and anklets had to be worn after dark; hands and faces were smeared with mosquito ointment, which lost its effectiveness after two hours and had to be reapplied. A battalion malarial squad was formed to see that all preventive measures were carried out, but even so there were omissions and oversights.
You will know by my last letters we were expecting a move. It came to pass and we are now in Syria and the dust and sweat of Egypt far behind. We have now snow, rain and racing winds. Our travelling however has not taken up all the time that has elapsed since last I wrote. The trouble has been with my right forefinger. I got a whitlow under the nail and after a week of most annoying pain I managed to get down to the doctor. For a day or two I thought I might lose my finger but the doctor gave me an anaesthetic and opened it up. That was five days
Mum's letter tells you of my trip up here and the country so I'll tell you a little about the people. They are far superior to the Wogs [native Egyptians] - cleaner and whiter, many of Turkish origin, have grey and blue eyes. They wear (the men) baggy black trousers, especially drooping between the legs and the leg parts are buttoned up tight round the calves. The shirts are usually sort of coloured smocks with many buttons.
The currency here is great. We are paid £10 Syrian for £1.2 Sterling. We feel quite rich until we start spending it. The pay goes just as fast as anywhere else. The notes here are very varied and most are bigger and multi-coloured. The pay one gets would almost wallpaper a room and they certainly resemble wallpaper.
Many of the natives come to barter eggs, wood and goats milk with us. They are very poor and prefer old clothing or food to money. The eggs are as good as NZ not like the little pale Wog ones. The land is mainly owned by huge landowners. All cultivation is most old-fashioned - this country must have changed very little from before Christ days in customs and habit.
The villages nestle on hillsides and houses are made of mud and stone - one can look around surrounding country for long enough without seeing any habitation at all. The sheep and goats are similar to those of Egypt and run together in herds with a shepherd. The sheep are brown and white with floppy ears and big soft tails. Here they have pure white turkeys - they are queer looking at first. There are of course numerous free French in this country. God grant the Japs don't make us "free New Zealanders." One source of amusement to us here is the tortoises which are plentiful. They are grotesque looking things and of course very awkward. There are also lizards, asps and snakes although I have not as yet seen a snake.
I'm glad you liked the photo. [this photo appears on page 34] You ask why I look so pleased with myself. Well Darling I had had a bath (first since NZ) and shave and haircut and my suit cleaned and pressed and I was alive and free while 80% of my cobbers were gone. Surely I had a right to look a bit pleased with myself. Take care of yourself sweetheart and don't let the Japs catch you.
Early in April A and B Companies, which had been guarding the frontier, were relieved by C and D and returned to the vicinity of Afrine; but a few days later 6 Brigade was ordered to move south and take up positions in the Djedeide Fortress. This consisted of a chain of defensive works covering the northern entrance to the Bekaa valley, between the Lebanon and Anti-Lebanon ranges. On the way south the motor transport columns halted before Hama, where the troops debussed, formed up behind a band, and carried out a 'flag march' through the main street. The same performance was repeated later at Homs, and though on both occasions the
The other day the course of our work took us to a small village where we had a chance to study the natives more and also to sample many of their drinks. Some of them are quite good but very potent. The people are very friendly and seem very willing to help us. On the roads the whole population of many villages seem to be working enthusiastically. The women and children doing more than the men in most cases. I'm getting some fine ideas for future practice incidentally. There is of course the question of your agreement to be considered I suppose though.
A few days ago we had salmon. I could tell your Dad that I had caught it but actually hand-grenades were used - a couple brought up enough fish for the whole company. Yesterday we climbed a high hill on manoeuvers. Just a huge rock pile it looked from the base but as we climbed we found pockets of soil in which beautiful clusters of ice-plants and arctic daisies all strove for pride of place. We have never struck a country where wild flowers have been so numerous - even the weeds have bright flowers. Much of the rougher wasteland is just covered with a bulb that has a stalk of white flowers - not very pretty by itself but very effective in clumps. Trees however are absent and shelter belts don't seem to have been heard of so that on a cold windy day the landscape is very bleak.
Since last writing we have had a change of camp and a two day trip. The country through
One day we stopped for lunch at a monument marking the scene of the last engagement in the last war between British and Turkish forces. It was on a plain at the outskirts of Aleppo. The V sign has certainly taken well over here for as we travelled through little villages children hardly more than walking age waved to us and made the sign with their two fingers.
This camp is at the base of a range of mountains which still retains a partial covering of snow. Yesterday our company took lunch and made the ascent to the snow line. It was pretty tough going and it took me all my time to make it but as I need not have gone because of a sore arm I did not carry a rifle and that of course made things easier. The climb once made was well worthwhile. The snow was abundant enough for us to have a snow fight in which the officers participated and received more than their share of snow balls.
This present time is very trying and monotonous. It is just as well that we have had the change of country to occupy our minds. The Aussies going home and the thought of us stranded here and a Japanese attack on N.Z. has not been nice to contemplate. Many decent chaps have gone the wild way with booze and women to break out and forget everything for a while. After the last scrap it was a great help to me to have Jim [Jim Choat] to get drunk with and talk everything out with and get back to sanity. One is not quite oneself after a proper grilling in a show like we had.
But Dear don't think that life in the army is too bad - we have the delight of many experiences, good friends and new countries to offset the hardships and after all one lives by living our lives better and fuller by sufferings. One who has had only pleasures and ease in life may as well not have lived. The whine of bullets singing and the excitement of battle and danger have their strange allure. Memories of our happy times often help me while away long hours on guard or take my thoughts from aching feet on a tedious march. Pray God those days will come again and that some day not too far distant we may be able to meet and marry and look forward once more to a life of happiness together.
On Saturday night I wrote to you, but as I was a little drunk it was not altogether the best of letters. I promised to write again and the opportunity has arrived today. I'm glad we understand each other so well Dear and that it enables me to tell you the truth always. I know you dislike drunkenness but it would be foolish to pretend we never drink and are always having a glorious holiday. When we are together again we will soon keep me from excessive drinking but I guess you can understand an occasional booze-up over here really does us good. One lets oneself go a bit and a lot of little worries seem to get washed out. Most of us have sense enough not to drink too often and take care to drink only in good company.
Compared to the desert it [Syria] is marvellous and it has more wild flowers than N.Z. but the land not under cultivation is really very sparsely covered with vegetation. Rocks are everywhere.
Wind seems to have swept nearly all the surface soil away and the hills are very bare. A few almonds, cedars and stunted pines have a precarious hold among the rocks. However, it is fresh and clean and although dust storms are not unknown, the air is usually sweet and fresh.
While we were having lunch under the shade of a tree today the Brigadier went past. He is new to us and we did not at first recognise him. He had his shirt right off and was sweating profusely. The climb up is pretty hard and he had a Bren-gun on his shoulder. He must have asked at the bottom if there was anything to come up. As he passed he said "Christ, this is worse than the bloody Chateau". A photo of him like that would do good in NZ.
Mid-April 6 Brigade arrived at Zabboud camp in the Bekaa valley. From Zabboud, B Company of 24 Battalion moved out to camp at Hotham, twelve miles to the north-west, to dig and occupy defensive positions.
While B Company of 24 Battalion dug defensive positions under camouflage nets on the summit of a 6000-foot mountain at Hotham, the new Brigade Commander Brigadier Clifton made a practice of inspecting the works through powerful field glasses from the summit of a neighbouring hill. On those occasions when he could see nothing going on, he would complain of the lack of activity; to which reply was made that his inability to see any work in progress, far from being cause for complaint, merely proved that the camouflage was effective. While searching for some variety of diet, the company commander's cook had succeeded in tapping a supply of oysters. From these he made excellent fritters. One day the Brigadier arrived at lunchtime and, having partaken, made a practice thereafter of timing his visits for the same hour and requesting that oyster fritters be supplied for the meal.
Meanwhile, whichever company happened to be at Zabboud carried out training of the most enterprising kind. Long treks into the mountains with pack mules were the order of the day. Made either by companies or platoons, always fully self-contained, these long marches usually lasted two or three days. Towards the end of May a brigade marching competition was held, one company from each of the three battalions being competitors. The route lay from Zabboud up a long steep climb to Hotham, thence to Wadi Fara, down into the valley again, and so back to Zabboud-a total distance of about 35 miles. Full-scale equipment was carried on mules, two to a section, supplied by the Royal Indian Army Service Corps.
The competing companies set out at half-hour intervals, B Company, representing the 24th, being the last to start. The 25th Battalion put up the fastest time, but had lost many men and mules en route and was considered to have arrived back in a state unfit for action. The 26th arrived almost without loss, but its time was very much slower. Striking a happy medium between these two performances, with the loss of only two mules, 24 Battalion was adjudged the winner, with 117 points as against 115 for the runner-up.
Naturally as time goes on local news gets less interesting and a more personal letter would mean so much more. The real feelings and reactions at home to things happening are what we want to know from our people. We don't want to feel that we have lost the real touch with NZ. It is the thoughts which matter. Letter writing over such a long period becomes very inadequate doesn't it? There is so much that a spoken word or just a look could tell that is hard to place on paper.
We are now allowed to say about the ceremonial parades which we had through Aleppo, Homs and Hama but beyond stating the fact there is little to say. Aleppo has been and still is a particularly important town to the Arab world. Did I describe the quaint villages on the higher levels? The huts have high peaked dome roofs and square bases. They are built of mud over a framework of wooden struts. The strange roofs are for shedding the snow. When we first saw a couple
Leave is now available to Beirut of two days at a time. I may take advantage of this but I am still hoping for leave to Palestine and should really save my money for making the most use of my time there. Tell your Dad that I have often been going to write to him but by the time the censor had played around there would be little left of a letter to him.
There can be little similarity between 1st NZEF and ours now that the majority of the last war officers have gone home or beyond. Cappy Brown's loss and chaps like him are very much regretted. I'm rather bored with life in general at present. The news of a fresh offensive will make things more interesting. We'd like to see the job getting done and are hoping to see big happenings in Europe soon. Our part may be very small but coming events will soon show which way Hitler will turn.
Cradled in a bowl of dry hills in northern Syria, the city of Aleppo presents an austere facade to those entering her ancient gates. Serious, tightlipped, sober - the adjectives often applied to her people convey a dignity befitting Aleppo's age, for she vies with Damascus and Sana'a as the oldest existing city in the world. Though eclipsed by the political and economic hegemony of modern Damascus, Aleppo preserves more purely the essence of a traditional Arab city. She is the northernmost of Syria's great inland towns, including Damascus, Homs and Hamah.
First I had better explain that I am not in Australia or with the A.I.F as the paper implies [written on Australian Imperial Force stationery]. We took over in this area from the Aussies of course and some of their supplies have found their way into our hands. They were very thrilled with the idea of going home that some would not believe it, they said, until they were actually on the boats. Many of them maintained that we would follow them but coming events out here will be the determining factor there. It is of course not beyond the bounds of possibility - we seem to be the last division at present but they'll soon find a place for us if a drive through this way eventuates. We are well up to strength. Have you yet seen the Army Unit's picture 'Return to Attack' partially taken in Syria? It was shown up here by the Mobile Cinema the other night together with an English picture 'Give her a Ring'. It wasn't a bad show. The screen was the side of the Y.M. van covered with a sheet and the theatre a ravine at the foot of the hill on which we are camped. For the natives of the small village close by it was an epic event. They all came, husbands, wives and children and it was pathetic to see them sitting
We are getting very fit and brown working on the hills stripped to the waist most days. Our lily white hands are becoming toil worn once more. You should have seen my hands after the last scrap. Gee! They were a mess of broken blisters and cuts. Hands weren't considered much when a hole was needed and the ground was full of large rocks. The digging always done in the dark too. The hills we are working on here are boulder strewn and the sides very steep. The other day a large rock we were lifting escaped us and rolled down the 1000ft or so drop to the road beneath where some troops are encamped. We were terribly afraid of a tragedy and watched its course expectantly. The rock burst into a tent but apparently did no damage. However on our return to camp we found a couple of native goat herders had brought up a dead goat and were demanding compensation. The herd had evidently been grazing out of our view at the foot of the hill. In due course I guess the Army or Battalion will make good the loss. The natives as I have said before are very friendly and one gets tired of answering their endless salutations of 'saiced da George' (the spelling is as it sounds only). They make a great job of our washing.
Water is not over plentiful up on the hills but plenty can be obtained at the cost of a stiff trot down and climb back. I go down occasionally at night and heat up a kerosene tin of water and have a great bath. The bath tub being a waterproof ground sheet laid over a built up circle of rocks.
I hope you have not been dragged into any women's army or such like Dear. You will I suppose have to take Jim's place on the farm. Don't let the Japs get you. There is a nasty little fear that will obtrude into the back of the minds of us who have left our hearts behind. God help those responsible for keeping us here if the Japs did reach NZ.
Your letter was written on the 7th March and was about your birthday and other things and I read the last part calmly as you said and I promise to do that if you will do the same my dear. I might have changed by the time you come back and you might have met somebody whom you think is nicer and fancy. So dear if I do as you ask you will do the same too. But know dear I love you now and I have always done. Sometimes I wish that we had married but I think we were right when we did not marry. It will be something to look forward to and we can start off at scratch when all this upheaval is over. We would have been married ages now if there had not been a war but I daresay it is fate and all for the best I can well imagine the war lasting until Oct 1943 somehow but of course I would not mind it stopping before then but I can see little hope for that at present anyway. America is starting her naval battles now and has cleaned up a few of the Jap ships not so very far away from N.Z.
It is becoming very hot here now. I hope we are here for a while to come as this country is marvellous for fruit. Wild almonds, pears, plums, apricots and apples are growing round our tent. Soon we are to have a spell at Beirut at a rest camp and will have a fair amount of leave from there.
The NZEF Times prints Harry Taylor as having died a P.O.W. One thought they were safe and well there and was free of casualty lists for a while. You will see Harry's photo in many of the groups in the photos from Suva.
We are doing alright with our sugar ration - we are allowed 12 ounces each. Mum gives us 8 teaspoons in a jar each and the rest is used for cooking. It is a bit of a nuisance bringing out six jars of sugar but nevertheless we see who gets away with all the sugar. We are rationed with silk stockings also - we get one pair in three months.
It will soon be a year since you returned from Suva. I wish you were still in Suva and arriving home again - sometimes it seems just the other day since you were home and other times it seems ages and you have got far beyond me somehow.
The long talked of 'Spring Offensive' has started and I guess there is some pretty fierce fighting going on.
As the Japs seem to have turned aside from Australia and N.Z. we are feeling more happy about home and the lack of mail is not felt so keenly. It is now more like the old days when mail may not come for weeks and then turns up in bulk. We for our part have now been in the hills for nearly six weeks and you must realise have little news to write home.
The "Kiwi Concert Party" came around this way last Monday evening and put on a show at the foot of our hill for companies in this area. It is a fine talented show and their orchestra and acts excellent. Their women impersonators are first class and we deprived of the sight of females as we are almost fell for them. The audience was very mixed for besides we NZ troops were Indians from a mule transport corps, Africans from a black labour corps with Pommy officers and of course the whole population from the village.
We are leaving here on Tuesday and have before us some manoeuvres, a spell of guard duty and about the 10th June our much looked for spell at Beirut. Leave will be available from there to see the town and also trips to Damascus and other towns of interest. Unfortunately leave to Palestine was cancelled for us at present so I'll save my money for a later date. From then on the course of war will no doubt control our movements - we have no idea what lies after that. The Russians certainly are doing well still. The whole outlook seems to be changing this way and an early victory to the Allies talked of. Myself, I still think Oct 1943 about right to see home again.
These last three months have not been too full of 'writable' news and we, like you, were wondering for some time just where we would be going to. In my last letter I mentioned our hopes of going to Beirut for a while but it now appears that leave is still far distant and we are to go back towards Aleppo where we were before. I'm sick of moving around and getting only a glimpse of towns. Although where water is sufficient this country is marvellously fertile, the greatest extent is semi-arid and very stony desert. This of course makes the watered valleys seem like real Gardens of Eden.
Yesterday some of us had an evening leave in Baalbic [Baalbek] a town of ancient glory but now little more than a Wog village. However, fresh water running through the streets and luxurious orchards were a treat. The old temples of Baalbic and Venus are quite interesting. Supplies of decent beer are most inadequate now. I only had one bottle of local brew. Yes my dear, I am now an uncle. Fancy Lell calling the baby after me [Denise].
Baalbek - City Of The Sun
Also spelled Baalbek, Baalbak and Baalabak, and in ancient times known as Heliopolis (the city of the sun), Baalbek is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, and one of the most significant tourism sites in Lebanon, 85km north-east of Beirut. It is the site of one of the most magnificent and best preserved Roman temples in the world.
The Destination Lebanon website elaborates:
Baalbek entered its golden age in 47 BC, when Julius Caesar made it a Roman colony. Perhaps because of the area's agricultural importance in feeding the eastern inhabitants of the Roman Empire-or perhaps because of its strategic location along the major east-west and north-south trading routes-the Romans selected this site to construct the largest religious temples in their empire. Over a span of 200 years (60 BC - 150 AD), a succession of Roman emperors oversaw the construction of the magnificent temples to honor the divine Roman trinity: Jupiter, Venus and Mercury. These temples also served as a monument to the wealth and power of Imperial Rome.
Similarly, the World Heritage Review #14 describes Baalbek:
Built of stone blocks weighing up to a hundred tons transported to the site by muscular force alone, the temples of Baalbek have survived majestically to the present day. In the fifth century, historians listed them among the 'wonders of the world', referring to them, for the first time, as 'the temples of Baalbek' - the name by which they are still known today.
Archaeologists through the last century have extensively excavated and restored Baalbek and a new museum opened in 1998.
Denis visited Baalbek on leave 27 May 1942
I wonder where we will be this time next year - I hope everything will be back to normal and we are living peacefully once again but there is little hope for that for some time to come, I think. I biked to town yesterday to get the mail as we had had no word from Roy and Jim had not written for a while and I also received notice to be interviewed next Friday for National Services - but I need only to say I am milking and they would not take me - one never knows though. [Jean is referring to her brothers Roy and Jim McGregor]
I have been out in the Syrian Desert only arriving back here for lunch today. We did not have such a hard time and much of it was very similar to going up to Libya. In fact, except for the continual dust and one day of exceptional heat, the excursion was quite an enjoyable change. The moon was full and the nights cool so it was very pleasant sleeping beneath the stars.
All the war news has been rather bright these last few days with large air raids by R.A.F. and the Russians at last holding the Huns and Rommell partially defeated in the desert. There is however a big struggle ahead this year but we'll hope that it will be the final one. We are still short of beer and I have only had a couple of bottles in a month - more good news you'll say. At all events it is probably better for our stomachs as the money previously spent on beer goes on fruit and other food stuffs.
We may find ourselves back in green country again by the trout stream where we first went in coming to Syria very shortly. I hope so even though it means the postponement of our leave in Beirut. It looks as though we may be in Syria when the fruit ripens yet. Pears and apples are forming fast while apricots are already ripening. Although the largest part of this country is desert, the soil is very rich, only rain is lacking and where irrigation is possible the gardens and orchards are luxurious. The whole land must have dried up gradually as Syria was once the granary for the Roman Empire and in those days, judging by the immensity of the old ruins, this was a most wonderful country.
The French seem to have done little good for the people during their control. In fact apart from various Gendarmeries, barracks and popular trees, little evidence of them is evident. The country folk know no French. Roads were in disrepair and have been taken in hand by our people. Black labour battalions, NZ engineers and natives are all active. We saw a lot of blacks recently. The natives are put to work by civilian foremen who get the contract for a piece of road from our authorities then sub-contract it to a native. The natives all work on their section - men, wives and children. It is strange to see women dressed in short dresses and long frilly-bottomed pantaloons sweeping roads, carrying metal and even spraying tar (the frills by the way are around their ankles).
One of the villages, merely a collection of white-washed huts, near the camp boasts restaurants and cafes without number. Practically every dwelling has roughly printed on its doorway many of the following legends - "Open to all ranks", "American bar" "meals" "Beer" etc. One even presumes to be for "Officers only."
The wheat is being harvested now through out the semi-arid parts and the methods used are pitifully primitive. The women go out with sickles on the scant crop and gather in the stunted wheat while the men load onto donkeys or camels to cart to the villages. The threshing is all by hand. The stalk goes to make fuel when mixed with animal manure (by women) and sun-dried. The camels up here have two humps. I'd be all humps if forced to live in the "glamorous and exotic Middle East". The desert is infested by small snakes, scorpions, asps, lizards, chameleons, and a few foxes. These often entertained us and have so far not caused any casualties.
I can well imagine Jim to be keen on getting into camp. Little does he know how willingly I would change places with him.
It seems ages since we last heard from you but I dare say there is a mail not very far away now. I was interviewed last Friday for National Services and we were only asked if we would like to volunteer for the army, navy or air force but of course I had to say I was wanted at home.
Six months after the Battle of Sidi Rezegh, while in Syria with the re-formed and reinforced 24 Battalion, Denis wrote about the battle, as follows.
You still blame me for not writing a full story of the scrap [second Libyan campaign] but believe me I'm sick and tired of telling it and hearing others glorying in their 'experiences'. We are practically a new brigade now and many old hands have played so much on their 'glory', which after all was mainly luck, that the whole subject is practically taboo. However, I'll write a full story now as it should be free of censorship and you should find it fairly interesting if only getting the story from another point of view.
As you know from the letters I wrote early in November 41 we knew for some time that the 'big push' was coming from lectures and training that we were receiving. Cooperation with different other units, issue of any gear we needed without fuss, the taking in of our bayonets for sharpening, all pointed to an impending scrap. We were quite keen and really looking forward to the thrill and excitement as many of us were new and the battalion had actually not come in close contact with the enemy in Greece.
Shortly before the day of departure from our position on the Mediterranean Coast some of us were unfortunate enough to have a mild attack of dysentery. Only one or two reported it as it would not look too good getting sent to base just before action. For myself, I lived on tinned fruit and milk for a couple of days and set myself right. I was however dubious about hundreds of miles of motor travel over miles of barren desert.
The great day arrived and the battalions moved to form up with brigade and finally to go forward in an almost endless file of trucks, pickups, bren-carriers and tanks as the whole division - about 3500 vehicles in all. One of the boys, a fine Dane who is now a P.O.W, caused us some anxiety and amusement as he had not fully recovered from his illness and had continually to hop off our truck and relieve himself. The convoy often moving off leaving him to clamber on a truck further back and regain ours at the next stop.
By the end of the first day the road was left and the open desert lay before us and the convoy formed desert formation. One was then able to get an idea of the hugeness of the whole. Imagine 2,000 vehicles roaring forward often in low gear over stony or sandy wastes. We weren't packed too tightly but sleeping except for some short snatches was impossible. For the first few days we travelled by day and slept beside the trucks in shallow slit trenches at night but as we neared the frontier night travel was more the order.
Our platoon was under Corporal Blackman (went down on hospital ship at Tobruk) as we had no officer with Turnbull being in charge of those left out of battle (L.O.B.). We were lucky as to provisions as a week or so previously we had been on guard on an air force dump which adjoined a ration one. Needless to say we fooled the guards on it and got away with half a dozen full cases of meat and vege, potatoes and sausages. These stood by us all the way up. We scrounged a dixie lid off the cooks and over a fire of benzene on sand in half a kerosene tin we made some great feeds. We were well stocked with tea and cocoa and were able most days to save a mug of water for boiling up. Sometimes we stopped a whole day in a position awaiting orders and footballs were soon out and a game in progress.
The nights were cool but not too bad. We slept two to a shallow pit and made up one bed of both lots of gear in it. Picket duty was cold enough as was stand-to an hour before daylight. After a week to ten days travel while going forward one night we got stuck in soft mud.
We soon pushed the trucks out and that was all the mud we encountered. While out of the trucks however we saw and heard the first of the conflict. The artillery of an [writing indecipherable] regiment were pounding Sidi Omar. Our job lay far ahead. The bren-carriers however caught a lorry load of a Hun patrol stuck in the mud here.
The days rolled by. One brigade had left us to go on to Fort Capuzzo the story of which you know. The other brigade left us soon after to take another route up round to Tobruk. We now knew our job was to relieve the city and open up the way in. Two or three times the patrolling Brens came in with news of enemy columns sighted but always he retreated hurriedly. Occasionally surprised Germans from aerodromes now in our rear ran into our convoy to be taken prisoners. Two or three times we prepared to go into action only to find the Hun had again retreated.
At last after a forced run one night we caught up. Our battalion was in reserve (the rear of convoy). As dawn broke we came over a rise to look down on a wide waadi. The leading battalion was in action against a surprised panzer and infantry unit. It was a great sight. Bren-carriers and light tanks racing about like fussy hens with a lost chick shooting up trucks and machine posts and 25 pounders firing on retreating Germans. Hundred of Itis [Italians] and Huns caught napping and coming out with hands up and stray bullets whining too close occasionally. Cappy Brown keen as mustard to get us into it and us keen to loot prisoners for souvenirs. We captured there the headquarters of the panzer unit including a few generals.
That afternoon we again caught up with them and he held our rather too impetuous forces. Our company advanced on foot that night and dug in. Daylight found things quiet and we were told to take up new positions a few hundred yards ahead. We were moving quite casually when their 3" mortar barrage opened. Two were killed with the first one. The barrage shifted quickly however and it was quiet again. I was detailed with another chap to go down into a waadi to collect some wounded from a crippled tank. They told us we would be covered by our Vickers [Vickers heavy machine gun] but personally I was not too sure. However we got out a couple of very decent Pommies - a lieutenant and sergeant.
I got back on the hill to find the coy lining up for a bayonet charge. I was pretty hot and done in as the lieutenant had been heavy and the hill steep. Also we were damned hungry. In we went almost as on manoeuvres. It was hard to realize that the buzzing and whining around one's ears was death until one started jumping over the unlucky. The enemy fire proved impenetrable and the charge died out. We lay all day till dark under intense machine gun and mortar fire. It was no fun that day. My nerve shook badly after collecting a bullet along the crown of my tin hat. I had no matches on me and it was some time before I raised sufficient courage to get some off Bill Cullen who was slightly wounded and not far from me. We had no cover.
The relief of darkness and a cessation of fire gave us a new lease of life. I hastily opened a tin of apricots out of my small haversack and that helped two or three of us immensely. Some were detailed to look after wounded and dead, I and others to bring up ammunition. We had some bully stew and tea at 11 o'clock. At 3am we went forward in another charge. It was good after the inaction of the previous day. Jerry [Germans] uses tracers and one could see his bullets spraying the ground knee high. We ousted him from his position and when day broke fully we found ourselves in possession of quite large dumps of supplies. We had a good morning eating German black bread, Italian sardines jam, tinned cherries and even wine. We also got a good few souvenirs. Our casualties had been very heavy by this time. Cappy Brown was out with a bullet in the ankle and only one officer Capt Wallace, our 2nd in charge, remained.
That night we had a forced march and it tried all to the utmost but we reached an aerodrome behind Sidi Rezegh. It was 4.30am by this time. I woke to find the sun up and two artillery officers sitting at the edge of my trench. Artillery was heavily in support. Hell broke loose soon afterwards as the Hun finding us shutting him in tried to break out with tanks. We spent some pleasant hours watching our 25 pounders blowing them sky high. We were then ordered into a bayonet charge again with the 26th against the pill box opposing us. Fortunately for us the order was countered and we lay and watched the 26th go in. It was heroic but murder.
That night we moved again and lay out nearly all night in cross machine gun fire - somebody's error but we had no casualties. The firing was on fixed lines and went over our heads. Next day
However as you now know by papers the S. Africans were badly mauled and arrived late. We beat off one counter attack but were overrun by tanks later. I told you how I escaped back to transport, how next morning we were again overrun and were forced out. That was only our brigade though. The 4th and 5th suffered very few casualties on their jobs and did good work. I was back in Egypt territory early in December.
I wonder what you are doing or aren't doing because three times lately I have dreamt that you have not been well. The first two times you were pretty sick but I dreamt last night that you were getting alright again - you walked out of our 'whare' the same old grin on your face. Some people say dreams came out opposite in real life - I hope so. The Japs are getting all they want now aren't they? What with the Midway Island and Coral Sea battles. Japan has lost a swag of boats now. I wonder what the outcome of all this will be - if we only knew - but I suppose even if we did know we could do nothing to change it - what's to come is to come.
The battalion received orders to return to Egypt and on 19 June began the 5 day journey. Travelling south through Aleppo, Hama, Homs and Rayak, the columns crawled over the Anti-Lebanons and ran into an intense heat wave on the frontiers of Palestine. The temperature rose until with-out warning serious tyre trouble occurred throughout the entire convoy. Many vehicle breakdowns occurred due to the exceptional heat.
How I wish I was there with you sometimes - and better still that we were together all the time. That time seems so far away though, doesn't it? I am doing quite a lot of biking now - have to - there is not much benzene these days - and we have to save it up for when the boys come home on leave. We got our uniforms last Thursday night. They are quite good. We parade on a Monday night now. I am now allowed a gallon of benzene a month to go to parades. I will have my photo taken in my uniform to send to you.
The Brigade stopped at a rest camp at Sidi Bishr, near Alexandria. The men of 24 Battalion were granted leave to Alexandria on 27 June -25 per cent of them until 11 p.m. and the remainder till 5.30 p.m. Some made for the city; others went to bathe and idle on the beaches.
Scarcely had the troops left camp when orders came for their immediate recall. Military police in Alexandria were directed to send back all 24 Battalion personnel to Sidi Bishr, while those officers who had remained in camp went off in trucks to look for their men. As they came in, gradually, by small parties, grumbling at being thus suddenly deprived of an expected pleasure, they were packed into trucks with their equipment, regardless of the company to which they belonged, and taken forthwith to Amiriya. By midnight all were not present but the occasion allowed no delay. Stragglers were left to rejoin as best they might, and the battalion set out for the lines of El Alamein.
It was good having Jim home this week. I only wish it was you. Loving you and thinking of you no matter what I am doing. I am like two persons doing one thing and thinking of another in which you were with me.
All days at nights I am thinking of you and hoping you are well and safe. I am missing you too much and sort of feel stifled and want to get out and do something so that I can't think so much of you. It is awfully quiet here without the boys. A lot of girls have joined up in the armed forces and if I had half a chance I would too. If Jim comes home at the end of this month, I am going to. I am fed up of Opo [Opotiki] and I want a change from housework and milking cows though I have done none of that lately. A lot of Opo girls went before selection committees last week.
I do not feel very much like writing to you tonight - the first casualty list came through on Friday afternoon and both the Bennett boys' names were in it - so I guess that you are in this scrap too.
It was marvellous darling getting a letter from you and Mum up the desert quite unexpectedly. I don't know how many times I read it through sitting in a dug-out with Jerry [Germans] popping a few occasional shells over.
Dusty, Dave and I had leave together and got into town [Alexandria] by truck at 10:30am. I described Alex [Alexandria] by winter after leave last Xmas but Alex now in the summer is indeed a beautiful city. The blue calm and clear crystal sea lapping at the promenades of the waterfront while cool breezes usually find there way through the streets bringing the salty air to waft away the odours abounding in other oriental towns. The squares and gardens full of palms and flowers and in the evening the whole population of Alex appear to stroll along the seafront. It is a wealthy city and the streets hold many powerful and expensive cars of American and continental brands. The first thing we did in town was to have some poached eggs with bread, jam and tea which we thoroughly enjoyed not having had bread for over three weeks. After a haircut and a little shopping we went down to the waterfront to a very nice restaurant for dinner. I had soup and spaghetti. They cook and serve it in Italian style and I wish you could have seen me struggling
The desert is certainly hot now darling and the flies carry away your meal before you can eat it. It's Hell in action in the desert now. Rommel's army must be very done-up now. They'll probably have a gigantic push this week - fail - and be chased nearly home again. It's a hellish business this war darling but I'm hoping and praying for a safe return to you.
Although the time seems to drag on and on, there is yet a long life ahead together and worth planning and striving for and one would be silly to let despair and monotony spoil things.
Jean, I'd like you to know that I have been true to my love for you. Often the example of ones I thought (and still think) well off, the proximity of death in pending action and sheer anger and boredom with fate have sorely tempted me to forget you and the future for a few hours' wild oblivion. I take no credit for refraining Darling. It is the memory of your dear clear loving eyes and unselfish giving that is keeping me safe for you.
From my letters you may think that I have been drinking rather a lot, but can you imagine this country? Really I'm a moderate drinker for our life and hate getting really drunk. Twice I've done so in Egypt and that is long ago now. I know you did not mean to lecture me dear but I gathered that you really do not understand beer taking the place say of water or tea in N.Z. Most water here is insipid and chlorinated and would have worse effect on one's stomach more than light beer if drank as one must drink in the heat.
This last letter must have been written as Denis was going in to battle at the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge. He was clearly aware of the danger to his life, but it would hardly have occurred to him that he would be captured.
"No one had visualised being captured, least of all after a successful attack."
28 June 1942
24 Battalion sets out for the Alamein line.
15 July 1942
Denis' last letter to Jean before capture.
22 July 1942
Denis was captured in the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge when two New Zealand infantry battalions successfully attacked the El Mreir depression at night but the next morning were overrun by two Panzer divisions.
Denis' unit, B Company, 24 Battalion, 6 Brigade, 2 NZ Division, was moved into the Alamein defensive line and fought at El Mreir in the second battle of Ruweisat Ridge in July 1942.
This passage provides an overview of the second battle of Ruweisat Ridge.
In July 1942 there were six battles fought around the Alamein line, followed ultimately by the November 1942 Battle of El Alamein under Montgomery after which the Eighth Army never lost another battle.
Auchinleck's third offensive had failed - and failed disgracefully. "There is nothing in the whole record of the Afrika Korps" states Ronald Lewin bluntly, "to compare with the abandonment of the New Zealanders naked before an armoured attack in the opening stages of the first Ruweisat battle."
This remark refers to other New Zealand brigades, and not Denis' 6th Brigade, which would be called into action for the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge.
There would be even greater waste in Auchinleck's fourth offensive, the Second Battle of the Ruweisat Ridge, which began in the evening of 21 July. Its objective was declared to be "cutting Rommel's battle front in two parts."
The main assault was again to be carried out by XIII Corps. 6th New Zealand Brigade would attack from the south against the El Mreir Depression lying to the south-west of the Ruweisat Ridge, while 161st Indian Motor Brigade from the 5th Indian Division attacked from the east. The infantry would be assisted by 1st Armoured Division. The armoured brigades were not, however, intended to advance before first light on 22 July. Much criticism has been levelled against their commanders for being unwilling to move at night when the Germans had no compunction about doing so, but there was the important difference that the British tanks would have to make their way through enemy minefields.
In addition to their other tasks, 6th New Zealand and 161st Indian Motor Brigades were to clear a gap in those minefields.
Such was the plan, but not the realization. During the night of 21-22 July, 161st Brigade seized Deir el Shein, only to be driven out by counter-attack; it failed to capture Point 62. 6th New Zealand Brigade, after ferocious fighting which cost it 200 casualties, secured the eastern part of El Mreir, but the tanks did not move up to support it in time. In consequence at 0515 on 22 July, Nehring fell on the New Zealanders with both 15th and 21st Panzer and shattered them. Some 700 men were killed, wounded or captured, and twenty-three guns were lost.
This is where Denis was captured, in the El Mreir Depression, where New Zealand infantry, after a successful night attack, were yet again unsupported by British armour when counter-attacked by Panzer divisions.
There was some excuse for the ineffectiveness of the British armour. On 18 July another successful Luftwaffe attack had wounded both Lumsden and Briggs. Command of 1st Armoured Division was therefore given to Gatehouse, now a major general, but he only arrived at the front from the Nile Delta on the evening of the 20th and he also was wounded at about 0900 on the 22nd, his place being taken by Brigadier Fisher. Yet it is hardly surprising that, in the bitter words of Major General Howard Kippenberger, commander of 5
So ended "Second Ruweisat", which Auchinleck had code-named Operation Splendour. The Eighth Army Commander had no doubt who was responsible for its failure. In a report to Brooke on 25 July, he would complain that: "The 23rd Armoured Brigade, though gallant enough, lost control and missed direction. The infantry too, seem to have made some avoidable mistakes. Perhaps I asked too much of them."
Others took a different view. "My opinion" declares Kippenberger, "was that we would never get anywhere until the armour was placed under command of infantry brigadiers and advanced on the same axis as the infantry. We fought one more unsuccessful battle on the old lines and then the principle for which I argued was adopted."
Auchinleck's fifth offensive, the Battle of the Miteirya Ridge began at midnight on 26-27 July, and unbelievably it repeated all the errors made in the two previous disasters.
This passage describes the battle from the perspective of Denis' 24 Battalion.
Disaster hung like a storm cloud over the Eighth Army as the black month of June 1942 drew to a close. The battle of Gazala had been fought and lost, leaving no choice but retreat. Tobruk's hastily improvised garrison was overwhelmed, and the enemy, having crossed the frontiers of Egypt, advanced swiftly along the coastal railway.
6 Brigade, hitherto held in reserve, was ordered to man the fortress of Bab el Qattara, central strongpoint of the Alamein Line. Starting at midnight, 24 Battalion moved out across the desert and arrived at midday on 28 June at the fortress familiarly known as the Kaponga Box, situated on a small rock plateau that rose 30 feet above the flat surrounding desert. This was no great height, but it sufficed in a land of level open spaces to give observation over a great distance in every direction, and from outside no one could see within the fortress except through two small gaps. The defences were incomplete; water was stored in good supply, but there was no reserve of food. Apart from weapons brought in by the infantry, there were neither guns and ammunition nor mines. The enemy was not expected to arrive in any force before the morning of 30 June, though reconnaissance parties might well appear much earlier. Meanwhile remnants of the Eighth Army flowed past Kaponga Box. 'The next 36 hours', wrote Brigadier Clifton in his diary, 'went like a snowball in Hades with a crazy mixture of hard work, extraordinary visitors, unanswerable problems, and, very far from least, amazing rumours, mostly left by the thickening stream of stragglers who rushed up in a cloud of dust, told their horrid news, grabbed a meal and a drink, then expressed regrets that urgent business took them further towards Alex.'
The 24th Battalion was made responsible for the northern side of the fortress, while the 25th and 26th faced west and south. At the end of June 28 (Maori) Battalion arrived to take over the remaining eastern sector, by which time 6 Field Regiment and 33 Anti-Tank Battery were in position supporting the infantry.
In the afternoon of 2 July the battalion's carriers and anti-tank guns went out to destroy two apparently deserted vehicles three miles away to the north. No sooner had the anti-tank guns opened fire, however, than enemy troops promptly emerged with
6 Brigade moved out of Kaponga Box on 3 July to Qaret el Himeimat, some twelve miles to the south-east. Two days later the 6th moved back again to Kaponga Box. There it remained from 5 to 8 July, and then, having received orders to leave the battle area for Amiriya, it moved out on the first stage to its former position at El Himeimat, trekked eighty miles next day over heavy going in desert country to camp where the track led south from Burg el Arab, and finally arrived at Amiriya on 10 July.
After a week at Amiriya the battalion was sent off at short notice to that same part of the line it had so recently left, 6 Brigade relieving 4 Brigade, which had been overrun and badly mauled at Ruweisat Ridge on 15 July. The Aucklanders harboured in the desert east of El Qattara on the night of 16 July and moved forward next day to positions in the line, five miles south-east of a long, shallow tongue of sunken ground, stretching east and west, known as the El Mreir Depression. While 24 Battalion occupied one of the hollows or depressions with which this part of the desert is studded, the 26th held a similar position two miles farther north; and the 25th, which had left Amiriya a day later, came to Alam Nayil, some way in rear of the rest of 6 Brigade, and sent its anti-tank guns and a section of carriers to sit on 24 Battalion's left flank. The brigade was now concentrated, facing north-west.
Viewing events in perspective, one can scarcely avoid the conclusion that certain operations undertaken at this period of the campaign were ill conceived and ineptly planned. Of such a description at least was the attempt now contemplated in which 6 Brigade was to capture the eastern tongue of the El Mreir Depression as a preliminary to further advance and exploitation westward by 1 Armoured Division. At the first battle at Ruweisat Ridge a week previously it had been amply, disastrously, demonstrated that infantry, on first gaining an objective, are peculiarly vulnerable to counter-attack unless immediately supported by their own tanks-more especially so after a night advance when dawn should find them in strange surroundings, imperfectly reconnoitred, with guns not yet sited.
The only valid precaution was armoured support timed to arrive without fail at the critical moment; lacking which no infantry on earth could be expected to withstand the shock of a Panzer assault. A lesson had been given at 4 Brigade's expense. Was not one lesson enough?
Phase 1 of the operation was the capture by infantry of the eastern tongue of El Mreir, after which 23 Armoured Brigade would carry out Phase 2 by advancing westward along the northern lip of the Depression. The 24th had been allotted a lion's share of work. Its objective was farther to the west and more exposed. It was farthest away, 3 and a half miles, and before it could be reached a succession of enemy strongpoints would have to be overcome.
The light was beginning to fade, but all movement was still clearly visible from the enemy lines as 24 Battalion began at 8 p.m. to trickle forward by sections to the forming-up point, some 2000 yards in advance of the defence lines, in one of the many shallow depressions. There was no longer any possibility of surprise, for the intention had been made plainly evident; enemy shell and machine-gun fire opened up while the men waiting for zero hour scratched out shelters as best they might. D Company (Major Beyer) was on the right and B (Captain Conolly) on the left, while C (Captain Beesley) was in rear of B.
In this order the battalion moved forward in extended formation at the same moment that our artillery concentration came down in front of the enemy's minefield at 8.30 p.m. Behind Beesley's company came the machine guns mounted on carriers. Sections of the newly-formed antitank platoon followed the carriers, while behind them again came 32 Anti-Tank Battery's six-pounders.
In what was still only semi-darkness, tracer bullets rained fiery streaks through the advancing waves of men, though casualties at this stage were almost miraculously few. First resistance came a thousand yards forward, close around two isolated cairns where the bombardment had first come down, but it did not long survive the Aucklanders' charge. El Mreir Depression was masked by a minefield running from north-east to south-west, which the advancing troops encountered when they had covered a third of the distance to their final objective. The infantry crossed without difficulty but ran into machine-gun posts on the other side. While dealing with one of these Captain Connolly was wounded, but managed to go forward with his company for another thousand yards. Raking fire came from the left, for 25 Battalion was not yet up and, since the attack was being delivered diagonally across the enemy's front, this flank was exposed. The adjacent Deir Umm Khawabir had been held by Italians, but the troops now encountered were Germans of 382 Regiment, lately flown from Crete, who fought with the stubbornness to be expected from men of their race. All the way from the minefield to El Mreir were isolated strongpoints, echeloned in depth, each requiring to be captured in turn.
Assault followed assault, made with the bayonet and led either by one of the company officers or Colonel Greville himself. Over a hundred Germans were killed during this advance, but the losses were not all on one side. Captain Beesley was killed and Major Beyer badly wounded before Greville, with his adjutant and no more than 15 men, arrived at 2 a.m. on the final objective.
About sixty more men came in during the next hour, and the battalion's fighting transport, having passed through a gap in the minefield cleared by engineers, arrived in the Depression at half past two. Thus, of the three companies that had left the start line well up to strength, there remained 70 or 80 riflemen, supported by four six-pounder anti-tank guns, seven two pounders, ten Bren carriers, two machine guns on carriers, and four mortars. A counter-attack by Panzers at dawn or soon after was something more than a possibility. What hope had this small force of survival if by any chance 2 Armoured Brigade should fail to come to its aid at the time of utmost need!
Meanwhile Colonel Greville disposed the survivors of 24 Battalion for defence. From the south, whence the advance had come, the land sloped gradually down into the lowest part of the Depression, from the floor of which a low cliff, some 15 feet high, rose sharply, extending some way both east and west. Each company had been allotted a special position to occupy and consolidate, but companies could scarcely be said to exist any longer; forming up for all-round defence, the survivors scraped out shallow slit trenches in the sand, with the cliff lying 300 or 400 yards to their north. It was too dark to site the anti-tank guns.
By this time Greville had got in touch with Brigade Headquarters. Brigadier Clifton arrived in the El Mreir Depression at 3.30 a.m., bringing a few more six-pounders and machine guns to reinforce the defence. The situation was now fairly clear. Between 24 and 26 Battalions lay a gap of 1000 yards which somehow would have to be cleared before dawn-an undertaking obviously beyond the capacity of the sorely depleted 24th. Contact was now established with the 25th, which had reached its objective on the left but was unable to dig in because of hard rock. Clifton ordered this unit forward into the Depression, calculating that it would take an hour to get there. Attached to his headquarters were two liaison officers of 1 Armoured Division, one of them from 6 Royal Tank Regiment of 2 Armoured
The brigade officers desperately tried to ensure that the Armoured Brigades were in position to provide cover before dawn. While requests and assurances were being exchanged between the higher commands, 24 Battalion, battered, exhausted, depleted, lay in a sandy hollow presenting scarcely any natural features likely to aid in its defence. All unknown to the New Zealanders, a Panzer division was harboured a few hundred yards away, behind the low cliff in front. The moon had gone down and it was too dark either to site the guns or reconnoitre the position. For the necessary defensive preparation an hour of daylight was needed.
Would so long a respite be granted? The answer was not long coming.
At five o'clock a carrier charged across the hollow and a voice shouted the alarm - 'Stand to! Tanks! Lots of the Bastards!' It was true enough. The Panzers had come to life and were rolling forward to the cliff's edge, where they stopped and let fly into the Depression. Shooting blind at first, they chanced to hit and set on fire a six-pounder portée, which flared up and illumined the whole scene. Then they saw the liaison officers' tanks, 'and the red hot solid shot tore through them with thuds like hammer on anvil. A modern version of the Wild West attack on a caravan - flaming trucks, tracer bouncing - men dying - ammo blowing up…. Some of our anti-tank guns fired back at the flashes on the skyline, only to be deluged with heavy machine-gun fire and knocked out. Their shields couldn't take it.' The hollow was crowded with troops caught unprepared.
Unable to hit back for the moment, the New Zealanders knew that a chance might come as the attack developed further. In this expectation Colonel Greville was calling to his men to keep down and wait for the infantry, when he was shot through the head and killed instantly. The German tanks stayed firing from the cliff top for some time before coming on. The bank could be descended only in certain places, and the Germans had evidently mistaken the liaison officers' tanks for an armoured force. Indeed it was a natural conclusion on their part that no infantry would be placed designedly in so suicidal a position without armoured support. But the climax was not long delayed. Daylight had come; the anti-tank guns were all silenced and the infantry cut to pieces by gunfire at close range, when the Panzers poured over the bank and rolled forward. Passing straight on, they took little notice of the infantry at first, being still convinced that they had an armoured force to deal with. Some of our men contrived to escape in vehicles, while others not so fortunate made off on foot, but in broad daylight with two miles of rising ground to cover they had little chance of reaching safety. Lorried infantry followed the German armour, and so ended this disastrous fiasco.
Meanwhile the Commander of 2 NZ Division was explaining to the Commander of 1 Armoured Division that supporting tanks had not appeared on the edge of El Mreir Depression at daylight-to which the latter replied that he had not been asked for support through the correct channels.
Including killed, wounded, missing and prisoners of war, 24 Battalion's casualties added up to 280 - a huge total when the fact is taken in consideration that only three companies, consisting of 440 officers and men, made the attack, and that a number of men belonging to the non-fighting transport had remained in rear.
Casualties were:
Denis was one of the 157 'other ranks' of 24 Battalion taken prisoner at the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge when his Battalion in the El Mreir Depression was stranded without British armour support and overrun by German Panzers on the morning of 22 July 1942.
The vast majority of 2 NZEF casualties in this period were lost in actions on the Alamein Line in July 1942.
The first of these was an attack on the western end of Ruweisat Ridge by 4 and 5 Brigades, which found themselves on the morning of 15 July in possession of their objective but, as our own tanks did not come up, completely at the mercy of the enemy armour: 22 Battalion was overrun almost immediately, and so by evening were 19 and 20 Battalions. The incidents of capture were a recapitulation of Belhamed and Sidi Rezegh. An infantryman's diary tells the story:
"The tanks having knocked out our guns, came rumbling and clanking towards us with nothing to stop them. Their machine guns were going all the time at anyone they saw moving, while behind them were German infantry and more tanks. We could do nothing, but kept hoping that some of our own tanks would turn up to the rescue; alas we were alone in the desert. A big Mark IV was only about seventy yards off me by this time … I only had a rifle and had seen two pounder shells bouncing off the tanks …."
As on previous occasions no one had visualised being captured, least of all after a successful attack. It came as a shock to see our men with their hands up, and one man puts it, 'I think we all felt rather silly and self-conscious'.
A week later almost the same thing happened to the infantry of 6 Brigade. In a night attack they captured the eastern portion of the El Mreir depression, only to be sacrificed to enemy armour in the morning; Brigade Headquarters, 24, 25, and 26 Battalions suffered heavily. Some 1700 New Zealanders were taken prisoner in these two engagements-a sad and undeserved fate for troops who had played a notable part in the defence of Egypt and had faithfully carried out their orders.
“I wonder where you are my dear?”
22 July 1942
Denis captured at Ruweisat Ridge and transported to the British cage at Daba, Egypt. Five day journey by truck and trailer to Benghazi in Libya via Mersa Matruh, Tobruk, Derna and Barce.
30 July 1942
Denis arrived at Benghazi. He described his time there as very rough in a disease-ridden, fenced-in paddock.
September 1942
Denis transported by boat to the port of Taranto in Italy, from where he moved to Campo PG51 (transit camp) at Altamura in Southern Italy.
29 September 1942
Jean and Denis' family informed that Vatican City radio broadcast named Denis as POW in Benghazi. This is their first notification of Denis' whereabouts since July.
I wonder where you are my dear. I still think you have not been in this fight. I always look through the list of names in the paper to see if any of the boys' names you mention are there. I do not know what I would do if you were one of them.
Well there has been no news of you lately but they say 'no news is good news' and I am hoping this is true. I wonder where you are my dear. It is hard to guess at a time like this, but I am listening to the news at present. I am not worrying very much as I know somehow you will be alright but I can't say the same for your mother.
I asked Dad about me enlisting in the army and he said I could go if I liked - that he wasn't going to stop anyone from going again. He had a lot of trouble with Jim. Dad wanted him to wait till he was 21. I have not decided what I will do - I will leave it for a while to see how things go.
End note: I had your cable this morning and so I know now that you are still 'in the land of the living' as the saying goes. I rang your mother straight away and she was very relieved.
This passage describes how the POWs taken at the Second Battle of Ruweisat Ridge, including Denis, travelled to Benghazi and ultimately to Italy.
Those taken at El Mreir on the morning of 22 July had an exhausting march back to a plateau, where they were left in the blazing sun without food or water. A soldier's diary runs:
"A scorching sun beat down on the shimmering rock. To lie was unbearable. To stand and feel the barely discernible breeze from the sea was impossible for more than a few seconds. Our legs were too weak to bear the weight of our bodies…. Chaps were offering watches for a cup of water."
Eventually transport came and took them to the prisoner-of-war cage at Daba. Many felt that the wearying marches back without food or water were intended to make sure that no one was in a fit state to regain his freedom by walking away.
The first stop for transport bringing back prisoners was the British cage at Daba, now in German hands-a piece of the desert enclosed by barbed wire. To men parched and some almost insensible from the exhaustion of their twenty-mile trek across the desert, the cool evening sea breeze restored some life. Officers and men were separated, there was usually another search, and an issue of half a mug of water and a few ounces of biscuit. Most men had no hunger, some had not even the necessary saliva to masticate food; for the most part they lay on the soft sand of the pen and tried to sleep. Many knew that this would be their best chance of escape-barely thirty miles from their own lines-but few had the physical resources to attempt it.
From Daba back to Benghazi prisoners were taken in large Italian trucks, sometimes in trailers, and often packed so tightly that it was only possible to stand. The journey by the coastal road took some four or five days, with stops at night wherever there was a barbed-wire pen to hold the prisoners. There was some kicking and the use of rifle butts by Italian guards, and the ration of biscuit and bully "Dear Sir, in case you didn't hear or receive word of a broadcast tonight from Italy (Vatican), I am writing to let you know that the name of Pte. J. Caves came over as a P.O.W. I am sorry there were no messages or camp number. If you haven't yet received letters I do hope it won't be long now. Hoping for an early peace and victory."
beef was all too little; but after the tortures of thirst during the first two days of captivity, men felt that so long as there was a reasonable amount of water they had something to be thankful for. The more fortunate were allowed to swim at Sollum or to wallow at a water point en route.Letter sent to Denis' parents from Mrs Ada Gush in Taranaki
The compound at Mersa Matruh in Italian hands was the first place where thirsts were really slaked, and men were then able to take more interest in the dry rations that were issued. Some were interrogated here and, as at almost every staging point, there was a search; not many valuables remained in the possession of prisoners by the end of the journey. As at other staging camps, most men had only shirt and shorts to sleep in.
Tobruk's large prisoner-of-war compound was on the escarpment at the edge of the aerodrome. A prisoner gives his first impression on debussing:
"Seen through clouds of racing dust it seemed a hopeless confusion, shanties, blanket-huts, tin shelters and tents all higgelty-piggelty and strung together with string and rope. There was a babel of tongues and a confusion of outlandish figures and dresses-South African Blacks, Indians, Gurkas, Siamese, Springboks, Tommies and Kiwis were living together, cheek-by-jowl. All conventional values were gone. The private no longer deferred to his officer nor black man to white."
There were further staging camps at Derna and Barce, with groundsheet tents at the former and huts at the latter. At Derna an Italian commandant with 'reprisal mania' kept the prisoners short of water, allowed guards to loot and bully, and generally kept conditions as uncivilised as possible. At Barce a well-disposed commandant did all he could to provide them with necessities and to see the sick properly cared for. From Derna most of the officers were flown to Lecce, in Italy.
The end of their journey brought most of the other ranks to a camp a few kilometres south-east of Benghazi in a small stony wadi with steep sides, about 50 yards wide and 350 yards long. An oasis thickly planted with tall, shady date palms, it became known to the prisoners as the 'Palm Tree camp'. There were two main compounds, one for Free French and coloured troops and the other for British, the latter an area of about two and a half acres, which soon held over a thousand prisoners and a little later 2600. Within the wire there were buildings for a cookhouse, storehouse and orderly room; there were also bivouac groundsheets for
Barbed-wire fences lined the tops of the gully sides, and the guards 'looked down on [the prisoners] as though it was a bear pit'. There was no sand and men slept on stones or hard rock with a top layer of dirt, many without coat or groundsheet; during the camp's most crowded period 'you could hardly step between the bodies' at night. Fleas and mosquitoes helped to make rest difficult. Latrines were dug on the slopes, but space was limited and there were always too few; in time the sewage seeped down into the central sleeping and eating area and a constant stench hung about the windless wadi. The place was partly redeemed by a plentiful supply of water from a spring, and there were even cold showers of a kind.
The food compared favourably with that of other transit camps: in the morning sweetened black substitute coffee, a quarter pound of tinned meat and more than half a pound of bread of inferior quality, and at night a cup of rice stew and half a lemon. Men brought some variety into their daily meals by cooking up the various elements of the ration, until the commandant placed a ban on fires to prevent the camp buildings disappearing as fuel. The one cookhouse which served the whole camp was difficult to control; unguarded rations quickly disappeared and others were sold at exorbitant prices, for under such circumstances money and treasure lose their value by comparison with food. Most men derived too little nourishment from the diet and became weak and listless. A great number soon had dysentery, spread by the swarms of flies, and there were never-ending queues for the latrines day and night. It was fortunate that there were British doctors at the camp to do what they could with the limited medical supplies for the hundreds of cases of digestive disorders and desert sores which daily lined up for treatment.
There were a number of books which circulated by a system of barter, and a few men had packs of cards or made them from cigarette cartons. Some made draughtboards, and chessmen from green dates or the rubber fittings of a steel helmet. Men talked over their capture and experiences in this campaign or in others. Some were bitter about their capture: 'It's hardly worth fighting for people who use you as an anti-tank weapon.' Others were more philosophical: 'Not having a clear perspective of the whole show, I shall not attempt to judge'. Apart from those on the war, there were endless discussions on food and the possibilities of escape. Rumours swept the camp periodically about a British breakthrough or the interception by the Royal Navy of ships taking prisoners across to Italy. At night some men found it possible, while gazing at the brilliant stars and moon through waving palm-fronds, to forget the filth and misery of the camp and substitute a romantic picture of happier circumstances.
In August and September the POWs were transferred from Benghazi to Italy, some via Tripoli to Naples but mostly from Benghazi to Bari. This journey was both unpleasant, as POWs were shipped in the holds of merchant ships, and fraught with danger as the POW transport ships became targets for the RAF and Royal Navy. The Nino Bixio, carrying thousands of POWs, was torpedoed and, while it didn't sink, many POWs were killed.
Denis nearly travelled on the Nino Bixio.
Related by Jean Caves and Michael Caves, Christmas 2003.
When they were captured, the older, more experienced soldiers including Denis did not rid themselves of all their gear. They only dropped what would be considered a threat to the Germans and kept blankets, food and letters. Blankets and food came in handy in the Benghazi camp where there was no shelter and little food. It was the younger POWs (under 25) and older POWs (over 40) who typically died in the camp. The younger ones needed more sleep and food and water; they hadn't hardened up.
"Our worst trial is monotonous waiting."
September 1942
Denis transported by boat to the port of Taranto in Italy, from where he moved to Campo 51, a transit camp at Altamura in Southern Italy, north of Taranto and west of Bari. Denis was issued reference number PM 3450.
October 1942
Denis transferred to Campo 57 in Gruppignano, near Udine, in North East Italy, close to what is now the Slovenian border. Denis was issued reference number PM 3200.
6 October 1942
Jean and Denis' family informed that a Vatican City radio broadcast named Denis as a POW in Italian hands.
10 October 1942
Jean and Denis' family received a letter from Base Records retelling of the Vatican City radio broadcast. The letter warns that the Vatican broadcast "not to be regarded as official."
20 October 1942
Jean and Denis' family received official notification letter that Denis is a POW.
12 November 1942
Jean and Denis' family received letter from Base Records that Denis is held in Campo 57, Italy.
3 September 1943
Italian Armistice signed.
4 September 1943
Italian guards deserted Campo 57. The POWs obeyed the War Office instruction to remain in the camp.
7 September 1943
Germans took control of Campo 57.
13 September 1943
Denis and the other POWs were marched to the Cividale railway station and boarded trains bound for Germany.
This passage describes Campo 51 where Denis spent weeks in transit.
Some of the drafts from Benghazi which arrived at Taranto during September were sent after disinfestation to a new camp three miles north-west of Altamura. It was on a gentle slope in the middle of a plateau of parched and stony land, but the barrenness of the compound was relieved by a shady almond grove which cut across one corner. Like Bari, this camp was only half finished: an administration block and latrines were built, but the only accommodation for the thousand or more prisoners consisted of the groundsheet bivouacs standard in Italian transit camps. Although the amount of food was very small, it was all of excellent quality by contrast with what had been issued at Benghazi, especially the bread, cheese, and fresh vegetables. With this diet, the crystal-clear water and the fresh upland air, men's digestive complaints began to clear up and their appetites, if possible, to increase. After three or four days one Red Cross food parcel was issued to roughly each ten men, much to their delight and amazement, for in two hungry months spent in North Africa since their capture they had almost forgotten that milk, butter, jam, chocolate, and other such foods existed.
Fortunately the New Zealanders and Australians were moved before the rains made the camp into a sea of mud. During their stay the mild autumn 'enfolded [them] with sweet peacefulness', and the pleasant Italian vistas helped to restore mental calm after the upheaval and strain they had hitherto experienced. The guards were easygoing and, apart from interminable roll-call parades, interfered little in the prisoners' daily lives. There was a general urge for mental occupation, which bore fruit in classes in languages and in informal lectures and debates under the only almond tree inside the compound. At night open-air concerts in the improvised parade ground gave men a chance to let off pent-up emotion in the community singing of sentimental and patriotic songs. In early October our men were moved north to Gruppignano by train-a crowded and uncomfortable two-day journey through the smiling Italian countryside.
This passage describes Campo 57 where Denis was imprisoned for nearly a year.
By September 1942, owing to transfers from other camps, the largest number of New Zealand prisoners in Italy had been concentrated in Campo PG 57 at Gruppignano. In July the camp had held only 1600, including some 450 New Zealanders, and the new intake made necessary the opening up of a third compound for which the huts had recently been completed. From then on the numbers rapidly increased until in March 1943 the camp held nearly 4500 (including 1800 New Zealanders) even after some had been sent off to work-camps. Although new sleeping barracks and other necessary buildings were put up, the accommodation never kept pace with the numbers arriving, and in spite of the use of recreation barracks as sleeping quarters the camp became very overcrowded.
Nevertheless most of the new arrivals at Campo PG 57, which had been represented to them by Italians as the 'best camp in Italy', felt that it satisfied at least some of their expectations. One of the shipwrecked party from the Jantzen notes that the camp had 'a good administrative staff' and that the 'rackets' in food experienced in previous camps were 'minimised'. Others in the party from Altamura who had been captured at Alamein mention the contrast between themselves-'lousy, bony and ragged'-and their fellow countrymen taken in the previous campaign-'cosy, clean, plump, and well-dressed in full British battle dress'; and the terms used, though perhaps somewhat exaggerated, express a contrast that was real. The newcomers mention the gifts of food and clothing they received, and the 'fine spirit which existed throughout that camp'.
By July 1942 a large number of the new sleeping huts with plenty of light and fresh air had been completed (as well as four intended for recreation), the sanitation had been made more efficient, and the water supply improved. Each of the compounds had its own kitchen, latrines, ablutions, and place for washing clothes, and was controlled by a senior prisoner NCO with a small staff. There were plenty of Red Cross food parcels on hand, and those who had lost weight in transit camps began to replace it rapidly. The canteen was well stocked and parcels of tobacco were beginning to arrive freely from New Zealand House and private sources. Letter mail from New Zealand itself was taking only two and a half months.
A small library of educational books had been built up and there was a large variety of general reading matter. All kinds of classes had been arranged, though among our men those in agriculture, accountancy, and languages seem to have had the greatest following. There were art, music, and drama groups; and individuals filled in their time with a variety of crafts, from knitting and crocheting to wood-carving and making objects from tin. For some time those who had wished had been able to cultivate flower and vegetable gardens within the camp bounds, seeds having originally been provided by the camp authorities. The arrival in the summer of 1942 of some cases of sports material sent by the World Alliance of YMCAs enabled full use to be made of the large area available for sport, and baseball, soccer, cricket, volley-ball, and deck tennis all had their following.
The Italian commandant [Colonel Vittorio Calcaterra] prided himself on maintaining strict 'discipline'. For not standing to attention at the lowering or hoisting of the huge Italian flag at the camp gates, for not saluting an Italian officer, for talking during check parade, or for not wearing sufficient clothing near the perimeter fence (apparently considered an incitement to indecent assault) the punishment was 30 days in solitary confinement. Some claim that the commandant kept the cells almost always full as a matter of policy, and that they were emptied to some extent only during the visit of a neutral delegate or of a papal representative, or on the occasion of some happy event in the Italian royal family. Nor was brutality discouraged among his subordinates: the camp has a record of handcuffing, 'beating-up', and shootings and woundings at least as bad as that at Bari. And although one of the New Zealanders killed there was shot dead while cutting the wire for an escape, another who walked across the trip-wire in broad daylight in his pyjamas was obviously at the time mentally unbalanced and could easily have been apprehended. [Calcaterra died before he could be tried as a war criminal]
The perimeter defences of the camp were exceptional: a squared barbed-wire fence 17 feet high, followed by a double concertina obstacle, and then a high double-apron fence of barbed wire with concertina wire under each apron. The
There was consternation among the Italian staff when the breakout was discovered at roll-call on the following morning, and there followed a hue and cry involving large numbers of troops in the district. Most of the escapers made their way across country in pairs, some heading for Switzerland and others for Yugoslavia, but all were recaptured in five days. Some of them spent long periods in the cells, part of the time in chains, and on release were housed in a special barrack and subjected for a while to special checks every two hours. The rest of the camp, too, came in for its share of what was described by a Protecting Power representative as 'severe control and surveillance'. Searches similar to those described in connection with Campo PG 47 at Modena, involving the complete evacuation of each barrack and the taking up of sections of the flooring, occurred every week regardless of the weather. The prisoners were sometimes called out to check parade at past midnight. When taxed by a neutral delegate with the illegality of such treatment under international law, the commandant gave the arrogant reply that he proposed to continue it until he was satisfied that the prisoners were no longer secretly planning to escape.
Fortunately the winter turned out to be mild. Although the allowance of blankets was sufficient, there were few heating stoves in the barracks and only enough fuel to keep them going for about two hours each evening. Conditions in the cells were especially severe in winter, as they were not heated in any way, and prisoners slept on bare boards with one blanket only. Supplies of Red Cross food parcels failed owing to the breakdown in the transport arrangements through southern France, and the International Red Cross Committee warned all camps to issue at the rate of half a parcel a week as from 1 December. Some men who had not sufficiently recovered from previous privations broke down in health as a result of this additional food shortage; there were a good many cases of beriberi and a disproportionate number of deaths both in the camp and in the local hospital.
In February the supply of parcels again became ample, day after day of sunny weather made possible almost unlimited sport and sunbathing, and most of the camp population became physically fit. When medical inspections were held to determine who were fit enough to go out on a work-party, few were rejected. Because of a lack of volunteers for these labour camps a party of 300 had been detailed in October, and a ballot for another party had been held in December. From then on parties began to leave for work on various construction jobs in the district, mainly with pick and shovel; and in the spring and summer of 1943 considerable numbers left Campo PG 57 for agricultural work, both in the neighbourhood of Gruppignano and as far afield as the upper reaches of the Po in north-western Italy.
Although my letters are now few I have never spent more time thinking and longing for you. All my thoughts are set on the finish of this ghastly war and getting home to you Dear and my parents. What a happy day it will be, it seems almost too much to hope for but it must come true some day and every week brings it closer. After all to the last generation it seemed as though the last war would never end. We are still young Sweetheart and these long years of separation will seem but a fleeting moment in our life when we are together again for good. Nothing parts us again My Lady. The last three weeks I have had a Red Cross parcel each week to myself. 10lbs in each parcel and all good wholesome food of splendid variety. I am feeling the benefit of it and am getting quite fit on it. The weather is getting very cold now with snow on the mountains but I have a brand new British overcoat, Italian winter trousers and two sets of winter woollens - scarf, socks and mittens - so keep pretty warm. On cold days we stay in the huts and play cards or read. We have two parades a day, one at 9AM and one at 4:30PM, about half-hour each so are not out in the bad weather.
We here had a week's rain but it is very warm and better than wind off the snow. We only have to go out on parade for a few minutes twice a day so keep dry. We have a euchre tournament going in the hut and have been filling in the days - 21 couples are playing. Sometimes the days drag. The lights go out at 9PM - it is dark at 5PM and not light till nearly 9:45 in the mornings. The sleeping hours are thus very full.
We have a euchre tournament going in the hut and have been filling in the days. 21 couples are playing. My partner and I had a good day winning 12 out of 16. Sometimes the days drag. The lights go out at 9PM.
Xmas has now passed and it has proved a most enjoyable one by the arrival in this camp of a large batch of POWs from another camp. All my old cobbers proved to be among them. Don Chambers, Paul Peterson and dozens of the old Suva boys. You can imagine how we talked. Gee! It was great yarning. All these chaps were captured last year and are in fine fettle and well equipped having had regular supply of Red Cross parcels and had parcels from NZ House and home.
Now for telling you of Xmas Day itself. It was a nice fine day and as I told you we had a special Xmas parcel issued for this week. At 7AM I had tea with milk and sugar and a biscuit with butter and marmalade. Parade 8AM. 8:30 a cup of tea with a choc biscuit and a piece of Xmas cake. 10AM stew of rice, potato and meat. 12:30 ½ pd of Xmas pudding and ½ pt of custard. 4:30PM bread and butter, cheese and tea and orange. 8:30 tea and a slice of Xmas cake. During day ate 5oz of chocolate and a handful of raisins. Not bad eh!
It is now nearly six months since my capture - in some ways the time seems to have flown. I hope the next six months goes as quickly and sees us in better circumstances - as well it may. We had a visit from a Papal delegate yesterday and he presented each man with a set of Vatican City stamps. They will make nice souvenirs. Last week I bought a pipe for a Lire to smoke up a mixture of Italian tobacco. When I get home I will probably continue the pipe habit which will please you more than the cigarettes.
The New Year is now begun and I wonder what it will bring forth. We here are quite hopeful. This time next year we should be together for always dear one. How I dream and pray for that day. My love for you never wanes Jean and this life makes my longing for you and a home all the more ardent. Well we have had our first snow down on the level and the hills are well coated. On bright sunny days it is lovely but dull days we stay pretty well under the blankets and read or play cards. We don't feel the cold near as badly as I anticipated.
It is just great being in direct contact once again. I was very surprised to get mail addressed to this camp so soon. I am glad to hear that you are all well and I'm hoping that you are not worrying too much. My luck still holds so much so that I'm sure it must be the result of your prayers and intercessions as I know my own unworthiness. My constant prayer is to be made more worthy of the love of my parents and fiancée and to be returned to you in health.
This life is better in many ways than one might visualise but it will of course leave its mark and it is a consolation to me that my loved ones are wise, kind and loving and will be understanding of changes in me. I am now well off for clothes and my first parcel from you and NZ House will put me right.
Today is very cold again however it looks as if we may have a little snow. Really the cold has not worried me unduly and we'll soon have warm weather now. For a month or two our instruments were taken away but we have them back now and had a fine little concert in our hut. Well dear one I guess you are having great weather and swimming. How I long for home and you.
Your letter written 20 Nov arrived on 18 Feb - Jean's birthday. Here we are all a year older and still so far separated. Surely this must be the last year. We of course get little news that we can rely on here. Waiting however is not so terrible as mail from you helps a lot and many new books have come to hand. There is talk of sending us out working soon. It will be a welcome change and we would be fitter.
You no doubt have seen the names of many of my cobbers killed and dead. I hope that did not start fresh worry on my account. I'm glad that Dick Bennett is safely home. We only knew that he was missing and not with us. I take it he must have been wounded.
Well my birthday has come and gone now as well as yours. I had quite a good day in spite of captivity - had a pound tin of meat pudding cooked up with onions and curry for tea and was pleasantly full. Today I was called out for a working party but was turned down by Italian doctor as unfit. I have a bad cold just now.
This passage describes the work camps which Denis hoped to be included in, but was excluded on medical grounds.
Unlike Nazi Germany, Fascist Italy did not immediately employ British prisoners of war as an auxiliary labour force, although she was perfectly entitled to do so under international law. Instead British prisoners merely did their own camp fatigues, or work necessary for the erection of additional barracks in their camp, or an occasional odd job in the locality that did not involve sleeping away from their quarters. The reasons for this are not clear. But it was probably the strain on prison-camp accommodation in the summer of 1942, combined with German encouragement, which brought about the formation of work detachments living apart from but still under the administration of the main camp. There is some evidence that German officers experienced in the organisation of work by prisoners of war and in the running of work detachments visited Italy at this period in an advisory capacity, for Germany had been employing prisoners for some two and a half years. At first the detachments were small (about 50-odd) and were employed mostly at farms and vineyards, especially at harvest time, though some were employed on the construction of new prisoner-of-war camps. In late 1942, however, the Fascist Government began to realise the value of such a reserve of unskilled labour for engineering and industrial projects as well as farming, particularly when the drain on their own manpower became heavier. But by the time the Italian authorities had really got round to organising the employment of the masses of fit men held in their prisoner-of-war camps on work useful to the Italian economy, and had begun to set up completely independent work-camps in the areas where they were most needed, the regime was collapsing and with it the whole Italian war effort.
The first of the independent work-camps set up in Italy was Campo PG 107 at Torviscosa. The seven sub-camps of Campo PG 107 formed in the spring of 1943 were smaller parties employed on agricultural labour. Campo PG 107/4, for example, on a state farm at San Dona di Piave on the Adriatic coast north of Venice, consisted of 50
At present we are having a good run of food parcels from Red Cross and getting one each a week. Under these conditions one is Ok. Well dear ones as you must realise all my thoughts and longings are of you all at home. Home! Surely this ghastly war must be driving to a close soon. We'll be wondering if we'll be out by next Xmas before long. However I guess when it is all over these years will be merely a small episode - but we'll never forget.
Quite a lot of mail has come in the last few days. None of yours have turned up in this lot - or have you got tired of waiting for me? Many chaps (four) have been deserted by wives and fiancées in this hut since being POW. This cursed war, waiting and strain is hard on all, one could hardly blame a young girl wanting change and diversion, but Dear however hard it is for those of you at home you cannot imagine the futile aimless endless drag of life for us here. We could not help our fate, have done our part, and now can only wait and hope for the best. We can do nothing - that's what makes it hard. A few hundred Aussies went out farming yesterday and some Kiwis (me included) expect to go out next week. Change would be welcome in a way.
This is the first of May. A lovely spring morning here. We get around a lot in shorts and singlet now and do a lot of sunbathing although occasionally we have a cold snap and fresh snow on the mountains. Our garden plots are looking well. I have a few lettuce, cabbage and tomatoes coming on nicely but of course hope to be out of here before reaping the benefit of them. We now have a very good library in the hut and spend a lot of time reading and playing volleyball and cricket. Am very fit and well these days. Regular Red Cross parcels make all the difference. Soon we must be together again and then we'll make up for these tired days of waiting. When you get fed-up, look to our future Dear. We are still young (very young really!) and a long worthwhile life lies ahead.
At last your parcel has arrived safe and intact. It was very welcome but thanks to Red Cross and NZ House I was not lacking in anything. Everything will be most useful. We are really marvellously well off these last few months and should be most thankful. Our only hardship lately is monotony.
Many have gone out farming from this camp but I'm still here. Our hut now contains a great variety - besides Australians and Kiwis, we have a Dane, Slav, Greek, South African and Serbs and Canadian. Plenty of books, cards and cricket fill our days. News brought in by a new airmail seems good and we are hopeful that this damned war may finish by Xmas. But we know so few facts - can only wait and hope.
All still going well here Sweetheart and still hopeful of liberty before this Xmas. Freedom must come sometime - then home to you. The knowledge of your staunch love is wonderful - so many girls have chucked their fiancés - I'm sure I'm not deserving of you.
The days are still sliding by and though each is long in itself the year seems to be going fast. All here are pretty fit and of course hoping to be out before Xmas as we did before last Xmas. God grant we're not still here thus after next Xmas.
Cricket, baseball and a bit of tennis with wooden bats in limited space fill our days. Bridge, reading and an occasional concert all help to pass the time. Conversation lapses from lack of fresh topics. One meets a cobber but one can discuss nothing - runs thus "what do you know?" - "FA" - silence - "Well see you again" and that's that.
It is now a year since my capture. A long hard year but I guess all trials have their lessons and consolations if looked on in the right attitude. Many chaps have had news of desertion by wives, fiancées and sweethearts, and the death of loved ones. Thank God I have been fortunate. I am really undeservedly lucky. Reading and bridge still fill my days. Contract Bridge! Always a four at least playing and bridge is discussed and argued from morn till late at night.
Life still goes on. Many ingenious inventions have been made out of tins and bits of wood for brewing up and cooking. Many suitcases have also been made from empty tins cut down overlapped and joined. I have still missed going out and working. Usually walk around the wire for an hour morning and night for exercise. Have a cold shower every day and am feeling very fit and I'm really in jolly good condition. Surely fate will not keep us apart much longer.
Sometimes I realise how unfair we our to ourselves when we write home only reassuring letters of the bright side of our life and leaving out ugly heart-rendering and sordid facts. Many thoughtless ones at home are to think our part easy. They should gain some idea by reading some unvarnished books on the last war. But of course civilian morale must be kept up - hence lies and more lies. But who gives a damn - those with the power of thought and reason will have understanding. I often wonder if you can imagine what life in a POW camp means after a year and more even to those fit and well and fairly treated. I'm not bemoaning my fate but only on the truth can understanding be built.
Received a surface mail letter from you containing a photo of you in uniform. Thanks - I like it in a way but somehow it does not seem entirely you - but of course two or three years at our age change one a lot. However I guess the essential that we loved in each other still is there and our love will be a mature and finer thing as a base on which our married happiness will rest. Glad you are all well and hope you are all not becoming militarised. Fancy coming home to marry an army.
Weather is hot and trying - electrical storms - but I'm very fit and getting fat. Had some excellent books lately. Read, play contract, loaf all day, eat and drink. Ideal existence almost? Longing for liberty and home.
If you realised how perverted the workings of the mind of a POW are, you would not have mentioned any particular chap quite so much. Many
The Italian ArmisticeSeptember 1943In May 1943 the Axis forces in Tunisia surrendered and on 9 July the Allies invaded Sicily. On 25 July Mussolini resigned and on 3 September an armistice was signed and the Italians exited the war. It was expected that the POWs held in Italian camps would soon be liberated. Denis could reasonably have expected to be freed from Campo 57 within a few weeks. But the POWs in Italy were not liberated in 1943 and were instead taken captive by the Germans, due in no small part to inappropriate orders issued by the British Government to POWs to remain in their camps rather than attempting escape.
This passage describes how POWs in Italy including Denis fell captive to the Germans.
Most camp leaders had received the War Office instruction for prisoners to remain in their camps, and had in some made elaborate plans for taking over from the Italians and preventing disorder in the neighbourhood. There was in nearly every camp a reserve of Red Cross food sufficient to last a week or two. Prisoners were acutely aware of the possibility of transfer to Germany and further imprisonment there under unknown conditions; but there was so little reliable information about what was happening outside that it was impossible to decide on a definite plan of action. As time went on the atmosphere at some camps became tense; early hopes of release gave place to suspense and anxiety.
Allied troops landed at Calabria on the Italian mainland on 3 September, the day on which the armistice with Italy was secretly signed. Some camps, for example Campo PG 57, had been kept without newspapers or broadcast bulletins for some weeks, no doubt for fear of demonstrations or even organised rebellion.
The news of the armistice reached most camps in the early evening of 8 September. In many of them excited guards were cheering as they acclaimed the end of the war, at the same time throwing away their arms and preparing to leave for their homes in civilian clothes, though this did not generally happen on a large scale until the news reached them that the Germans were on the way to take over the camp. On the whole it was received by prisoners phlegmatically-almost with disbelief, though among them too there were some scenes of rejoicing and a good deal of toasting where wine was obtainable. A few of them got away in the confusion, some seizing the opportunity to escape, others merely to pick grapes in a nearby field or to sample the local wine. But most men went back to their games of bridge or to their unfinished snacks of supper. It was a sleepless night for prisoners in many parts of Italy, not only because of disturbing thoughts about the future, but also because of much indiscriminate shooting off of firearms, a good deal of it no doubt in celebration of the armistice. Moreover, the whole deadening routine of prison-camp existence had been suddenly broken and men had to use their initiative again in thinking out actions to suit a quite unfamiliar situation. The emphasis was on 'keeping cool', especially in view of the War Office instructions not to move about. Nearly all Italian camp commandants seem to have received instructions that prisoners were to be kept in their camps until collected by Allied forces, but were to be protected from seizure by the Germans. As there were considerable German forces in the vicinity of some camps, it is not clear how this protection was to have been given.
The failure to adopt a sufficiently realistic plan for the release and evacuation of prisoners of war in Italy had most unfortunate results in the two or three days following the armistice. Camp leaders and senior officers were faced with the responsibility of deciding whether to disobey a War Office order in what seemed a potentially dangerous and very confused situation, about which almost no reliable
"All personnel were to stay put 'when war ends'; they were to organise themselves into military units and await orders; arms and assistance would be flown in. Officers at officers' camps were to be prepared to take command of nearby other ranks' camps."
The order had been formulated several months previously, and was on 8 September 1943 totally unrelated to the existing military situation in Italy. Nothing could have played better into the enemy's hands. The outcome was the transfer to Germany of tens of thousands of able-bodied British soldiers who might otherwise have rejoined the Allied forces.
Most of the prisoners who obeyed these orders were collected with ease by comparatively small German detachments and sent to Germany; a large number of those whose camp leaders disobeyed them eventually reached the Allied lines or Switzerland. Thus base camps like Campo PG 47 (contained nearly all the New Zealand officer prisoners) and Campo PG 57 (contained the greatest number of New Zealand other ranks) were rounded up almost intact. It was from more remote working camps such as Campo PG 107 or Campo PG 78/1, where the camp leader acted on his own initiative in bringing pressure on the Italians to allow the men to leave, or at others like Campo PG 106/20, where prisoners were released and advised to leave by one of the guards, that the greatest number of our successful escapers in this period was drawn.
At many camps these releases were three or four days after the announcement of the armistice. Italian camp officers seem, with a few exceptions, to have carried out their orders, namely, to keep the prisoners in camps ready to hand over to Allied troops and if necessary release them to prevent their falling into German hands. But German pressure, and occasionally Fascist leanings, undoubtedly induced a few of them to hand over their camps to the nearby German troops. In any case it would clearly not have been feasible for most Italian commandants to have prevented their camps falling into German hands by force of arms. Nearly a week after the armistice announcement a BBC transmission advised prisoners in Italy that it was their duty not to remain in camps but to make good their escape. By that time, according to the German claims, 25,000 had been entrained for Germany, and judging by eye-witness accounts of the numerous trainloads which went north in the few days after 13 September this figure is probably no exaggeration.
The following are the figures (so far as they are known) showing the fate of New Zealand prisoners in Italy at the time of the armistice. Where known, British Commonwealth totals in round figures are given for comparison:
Near Campo PG 57, which contained some 1500 New Zealand other ranks at that time, a detachment of German troops arrived on the day
Campo 57 TodayLittle remains of Campo 57 today. A chapel is located on the site with a plaque commemorating the English, Australian and New Zealand POWs.
Plaque at Campo PG57 pictured above. It translates as:
United in comradeship the sorrowful long imprisonment From 24 October 1941 to 13 September 1943 Of warrant officers and soldiers This church is erected With their labour and generous concourse Find solace and consolation In perpetual memory The crucified Symbol of redemption and love Is bestowed
17 October 1946
"One can hardly visualise a life free of barbed wire."
13 September 1943
Germans take control of Campo 57 and transfer Denis by train via Bischofshofen to Stalag XVIIIC (317) at Markt Pongau, 50km south of Salzburg. Issued POW tag 32679.
24 September 1943
Denis travels by train from Markt Pongau to Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz, on the modern German/Polish border.
October - November 1943
Denis worked in a sugar factory at Strelen (now called Strzelin), 50km south of Wroclaw.
November 1943
Denis returned to Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz.
November - December 1943
Denis returned to Strelen sugar factory.
End December 1943
Denis spent Christmas at Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz.
1-3 February 1944
Denis was transferred to Stalag 344 (formerly VIIIB) at Lamsdorf (now called Łambinowice in Poland), Southwest of Oppeln (now called Opole).
18 February 1944
Denis employed in Commando (working camp) E725 near Stalag VIIIB at Teschen (now called Cieszyn on Czech/Polish border).
28 February - June 1944
Denis based at Stalag VIIIB at Teschen and spent time in a work camp at "Bismark near Rattowity." We have not been able to locate Bismark or Rattowity.
10 July 1944
Denis employed in Commando E494 at Glewitz (now called Gliwice in Poland).
22 July - 29 August 1944
Denis worked on a railway line - Commando E728 at Oderburg, near modern day Bohumin in Czech Republic and Chalupki in Poland. It was a railway junction through which passed supplies to the Eastern Front.
10 September - 1 January 1945
Denis held at Stalag VIIIB at Teschen. He was not fit enough to work in the coal mine.
January 1945
Denis returned to Commando E728 at Oderburg.
27 January 1945
Denis evacuated westwards ahead of the advancing Red Army.
This passage describes the transfer of POWs, including Denis, from Italy to Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz in Germany.
From those camps that were taken over by German troops in September 1943, all except the few who succeeded in hiding were marched to the nearest railway station. The Germans took what precautions they could to prevent escapes-a strong guard along the route, threats before setting out of the dire consequences that would follow any attempted breaks, even a demonstration with a flame-thrower at Campo PG 57. The weather was at its hottest and men struggled along in the dust, wearing or carrying whatever possessions they could, at the pace set by the guards. Some dropped with exhaustion from the heat and the exertion and were brought along later by truck. The guarding was efficient and there was little chance of breaking away.
Most of the trains went north via Verona, through the Brenner Pass to Innsbruck, though a few took the more easterly Tarvisio Pass to Villach [this would have included Denis]. They were almost entirely made up of cattle-trucks and closed goods-wagons with a very few third-class carriages, some of them Italian rolling-stock commandeered by the German military authorities, others returning north after having brought German troops and equipment south for the Italian campaign. Into these trucks the prisoners were packed, as many as fifty in each, though the number was reduced for officers to about thirty-five. With thirty-five it was almost impossible for everyone to lie down at once, and with fifty for everyone to sit down, even when kit has been hung on the sides and from the roof beams. The sliding doors were closed and bolted, and prisoners were left for the journey with at most two small openings in the sides of the truck for air and light, no provision for latrines, and only such food and water as they had been able to carry with them. Though most had ample Red Cross food, it did not take long for men perspiring in the 'oven-like heat', to empty their water bottles; and for those with any kind of dysentery the journey was a miserable experience. There were occasional halts on the journey north, often not long enough for every truckload to be allowed out. On the longer journeys there were considerable halts at stations and sometimes meals from the German Red Cross.
From the moment they were locked inside, men in almost every truck looked about for ways out of it. Before the train bringing those from Campo PG 57 had reached the junction at Udine, some had crawled through the small windows and jumped clear, and from Udine onwards the stream of escapers continued. There were similar losses from the first trains on the main line north to the Brenner Pass. In later trains those openings that were not barred were closed with barbed wire to prevent such escapes. Nevertheless, in some of the wooden trucks a hole was made near the bolt securing one of the sliding doors, a hand was put through and the door opened, leaving the whole truckload free to make a break; and several truckloads did.
For most of the prisoners the journey was one of acute discomfort and, for some, of real physical hardship. But it was relieved by glimpses of splendid alpine scenery, which led at least one prisoner to call the Austrian Tyrol 'the most beautiful country I have seen since leaving my own'. There was interest in the difference of landscape and dwellings from those in Italy; interest too in calling out to groups of British prisoners working alongside the railway, some of whom had been in German hands since the end of the campaign in France.
Those from Campo 57 were the first large party from Italy to reach Stalag XVIIIC at Markt Pongau in Austria, a transit camp which then held some 1000 prisoners of several other European nationalities. Though in a beautiful alpine setting on the left bank of the Salzach, roughly 25 miles south of Salzburg, the camp was very dirty and the barracks infested with vermin. Many prisoners, to avoid the bedbugs, preferred to sleep on the floor wrapped in their great-coats; a number would have had to in any case as there were not enough beds to go round, nor any blankets. For the first time they tasted the typical German stalag fare - vegetable soup and 'black' bread, boiled potatoes and mint tea. There, too, they went through the registration, searching, and delousing routine already described elsewhere, but had all their spare clothing, boots, and blankets confiscated. After a fortnight or so most went north to Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz in Saxony,
Stalag VIIIA, to which went a trainload of prisoners from Campo PG 57, covered over 70 acres of sloping countryside on the eastern outskirts of the town of Görlitz. One of the oldest prisoner-of-war camps in Germany, it had barracks of the same type as those at Lamsdorf and had held prisoners of several Allied European countries. When New Zealand men arrived from Italy it contained French, Belgians and Serbs, together with a number of Russians in an adjacent but carefully segregated compound. The portion of the camp allotted to the newcomers was in bad repair, with many missing doors and windows and a bad shortage of beds and palliasses. It was also infested with lice and bedbugs, and though the former were soon overcome the latter persisted. There was a very poor water supply and the usual rather primitive latrine system. But under good leadership the camp soon began to show improvement. Generous gifts of food and tobacco from the French and Belgians tided the British prisoners over a lean period until copious Red Cross supplies of all kinds began to arrive in October. In time it became possible to organise all the amenities common in other, longer-established British camp communities.
The stalag very quickly became overcrowded, and remained so until sufficient working parties were moved out to work-camps. All those below the rank of corporal underwent a rather cursory medical examination by a German doctor and were graded according to the heaviness of the work he considered they were fit to undertake. Before the end of the year hundreds of men had gone to work in coal mines or stone quarries, at sugar, glass or paper factories, on railway construction or other building work, in Arbeitskommandos attached to Stalag VIIIA.
As many as could be got out to work were sent to coal mines, sugar-beet factories, aerodrome construction jobs, and other work in the neighbourhood. Without Red Cross food parcels and camp concerts, boxing tournaments and other sports, this unpleasant existence would have been hard to bear. Boils, a common complaint among prisoners of war, became particularly prevalent.
Sickness gave several an opportunity to get back to stalag, though many others who were sick were ordered out to work by the German doctor or the commandant, whose decision as to whether a prisoner was fit enough to work was final.
My first letters may have worried you and Mum a little. But rest assured conditions in this camp are extremely good and there is now no need to worry over my welfare. I'll soon be on my feet again and regain lost weight. I am now in a new hut with only two of our lot - all the rest have been here a year or so and getting regular mail and parcels from home (Aust & NZ). There are plenty of books and cards in this hut and many have lent me clothes while mine are washing. It rains a lot now but our hut is dry and warm. The nights are long - dark from 5:30pm to 7:30am. Lights out at 9pm and hot water comes in the morning at 7:30 for making tea or cocoa out of Red Cross parcels. Have ½ issue loaf with jam then rice and macaroni at 10am, vegetable soup at 4pm, meat Thurs and Sun. Hot water at 12 and 5:30pm also. The parcels with meats, biscuits, jam, butter, pudding, milk, etc. are great. Thus you see Dear life is not too bad eh!
This is my first airmail to you so may arrive first. I am now a POW and Stalag VIII A is apparently my base camp, from it I will probably go to camps working. Already I have had a month in a sugar factory from which I wrote to you. Whether I will return to that command or not, I do not know. I am well and very fit to have benefited by the exercise. A twelve hour trip through this country travelling in moderate comfort was most interesting and enlightening. Red Cross food parcels are now arriving regularly. We have of course lost contact with many cobbers from Italy. No idea when we'll receive mail from you again but may be in direct communication soon - this war can't last forever.
We had our big disappointment of course. 'Finito la guerre' did not mean so much. Hope you and Mum & Dad have not worried too much. Some got away but most of us are safely in Germany. I have work in a sugar factory. The hours are long but the job is not too bad and has its points and I am feeling the benefit of the exercise. Red Cross parcels are again arriving. Of course we have had a complete change of diet and potatoes and cabbage take the place of macaroni and rice. We had a very interesting journey through Austrian Tyrol and Germany and are now near Breslow. Have had our first snow but not feeling the cold too bitterly. Have no idea where old cobbers are now but have two or three good chaps with me. Work alongside Poles, Russians, French, Belgians, in fact all races. Darling, life still goes on - it must come our way soon. You are now as always my love and life.
Xmas here again and still we are apart but still we say "it can't be long now" and at last each time it is more true. In many ways conditions in this country are better than in Italy.
I hope none of my letters and notes seem too cold and bitter. Don't feel hurt by little things. Writing is so hard now isn't it? Such a lot of things will have to wait till we meet again, so many changes will have taken place that one cannot plan for the future. Whatever happens Dear I will always love you - that the war cannot change.
I've been undeservedly lucky with mail Darling but I seem to be a lucky sort of chap. Having you convinces me of that. So little one can say in these cards but Dear my love is yours always.
This passage describes Stalag 344 (formerly VIIIB) at Lamsdorf and Stalag VIIIB at Teschen. Denis spent considerable time in both stalags in 1944.
Besides the trainloads of men who went direct to Stalag VIIIB there were others who were moved from Stalag VIIIA. This huge camp, which had started to show improvement since the appointment of a new German commandant, now became still larger through the sudden influx from Italy and numbered well over 30,000, 10,000 of them in the stalag itself, with men sleeping on tables, on forms, or simply on the floor, and with other camp services similarly overcrowded. Our men from Italian camps met in the stalag many old comrades from the campaigns in Greece and Crete. Those who had come from Italy, more especially those from Campo PG 57, wondered at the comparative lack of discipline in this camp and at the activities that could go on inside it unknown to the enemy. They saw shackling in its last rather farcical stage when the handcuffs were issued but not put on; they met men living in the camp of whom the German office had no record or only a false one. Less easy to contemplate with detachment were the activities of a gang whose members tried for a while to improve their lot at the expense of their fellow prisoners by intimidating them with blade-razors. Sooner or later the newcomers, who had all been graded by German doctors according to the
Letter sent to Denis' mother from Mrs Ada Rush in Taranaki. It reads: "Dear Mrs Caves. In case you didn't hear or receive word of a Radio Broadcast tonight from Berlin, Germany, I am writing to let you know that the name of J.D. Caves came over as a POW now in Germany. There was also a message which I got as near as possible. Message - Well folks, a Merry Xmas and Happy New Year. Love to Jean and all. Take care of yourselves."
By December the German authorities, to cope with the over-crowding at Lamsdorf and at the same time divide the work of administering its numerous Arbeitskommandos, transferred administrative staff to form new base camps at Teschen and Sagan. These
As you will see I have shifted again. After 15 days work at the sugar factory I returned to Stalag [VIIIA] and had quite a good 3 months including Xmas. VIIIA was really a French camp and very good once supplies came from Red Cross arrived. It certainly must have been hard on you all hearing that we had been shifted to Germany. From our camp we had no chance of escape but I believe some from work camps got away.
Oh darling heart of mine what a long time it is. I hate having kept you waiting and feel that I should have let you free. I love you enough to put your happiness first - could gladly see you marry someone more worthy of you who could give you more. Darling I'm feeling so old and lacking in enthusiasm that I doubt I could make you happy though my love for you will never dim. Let's hope freedom will bring new life and hope. One can hardly visualise a life free from barbed wire now.
You've had a worrying time my dear ones. No chance of freedom came my way but we have only to wait. So many in Germany have so hopeless a prospect before them. You all down under can only imagine the misery that is this war. If there is a God how can it last longer?
Still touring Europe - so old and cultured but becoming increasingly keen on the slogan "Europe for the Europeans". Your birthday again so near Darling. I'll be thinking of you and wishing all the best.
More birthdays nearly over but we'll have many more to spend together and these wasted years will be but a memory. A proud memory - if I'd ten lives I'd have spent them willingly so. I am now in another area of Germany and adding much to my knowledge.
I'm quite well and fit and the 'wire' not weighing me down too much. Have you ever seen young calves when first let out in a green paddock after a couple of months in a shed? We'll be very similar - but one could not know the ecstasy of freedom without captivity or the joy of plenty without hunger. It is all life. We have lived and I hope have gained in the long run. A sheltered life is mere existence.
Letters arriving fairly well - most old Italian addressed mail now received. I can well realise how hard it must be for you to write at times Dear but just carry on as it is necessary for us to know that somewhere the world is sane and that we really have a home in New Zealand.
What a long time before you knew we were in
Receiving quite a lot of old mail addressed Italy and NZ House which has filled up quite a bit of news. Spring will soon be here and liberty we are sure. With luck we'll share a Xmas turkey.
Jean Dear if some of my letters are bitter and perhaps hurt please forgive and remember apart from natural physical trials our worst hardship by far is the mental torture of captivity. One gets to hate the sight and sound of his fellows through never being able to be alone. Let's go away to an island by ourselves and live alone. But Dear we could be a thousand times worse off in other ways and don't think that I don't realise how hard it is for you Old Girl waiting, just waiting, seeing others with homes of their own and life seeming futile. How I wish we had married! But I couldn't influence you too much - you were too young for it. But as you say, we'll make up for it all and we belong to each other.
There is little in these notes but there is little to tell dear ones. Life still goes on but not for us who wait, while the gods laugh - or do they? Guess that's the question. One must believe the world diseased and vicious cures necessary. We'll come through all right though.
Writing is increasingly difficult for me darling girl. I'm still in the same place of which I can tell you nothing. But whatever happens always know that I love you and your happiness and well being is everything to me. One has plenty of time to think and form philosophies and feel infinitely wise but I doubt if we'd have the determination to stick to ideals or even the right now. We've been drifting too long, just pushed here and there, curbing our own
This passage describes news of the Allied landings in Normandy reaching the POWs in Germany.
For most prisoners in Germany the landing [6 June 1944 - D-day] was the most significant event of the war; for as it became clear that it had been consolidated, they felt for the first time that they could see the end of their captivity. But the frustration of the failure of the plot against Hitler on 20 July, and the attempts of the Nazi propaganda machine to urge the German people, through fear, to greater efforts, precluded any thought of an early armistice. And though there were great Allied advances on both the Eastern and Western fronts, and city after city was liberated from German occupation, the Allied forces in the West did not enter German territory until 12 September. After the setback at Arnhem, with the summer gone and the German leaders determined to fight on, nothing decisive seemed likely to happen and prisoners resigned themselves to another winter in Germany.
This is 18th June and we of course know of the landing in France and are naturally optimistic. Again wondering if Xmas will see us home. Darling sweetheart will years ever seem so long as these of our separation? How things must have changed at home. Jean I spend hours visualising my girl of 19 turned into a woman of 3 or 4 and twenty. I guess you'll be wondering about me too Dear. But one thing I know, my love for you will always be the same, the Jean I met and loved as a school girl will ever be you my dear. Keep yourself happy girl of mine. We'll come through. I'll be back for you some day no matter what.
Still keeping well and trying to live each day just for the day. Can't even try to visualise the future even though the end seems to be getting close now. Some time we'll do heaps of talking of these days.
It is some weeks now since I had the pleasure of writing to you as Mum likes to write most weeks and I think she gives you most of the news. You will have three nieces to inspect when you come home. I think Roy is home for good and Jean is still the land girl and waiting patiently for the war to finish and you to come home. She is a fine girl.
Now in a working party of NZs - only none you'd know. Working on railway line - open air good change from factory. Keeping well.
There is so much I have not told you of my life that may have gone to the changing of my views and self that I hope my letters never hurt you and seem strange. But we can only do that which seems right at the time. Barbed wire often enters deeper than the flesh - but maybe peace and freedom will heal the scars of most.
Seventy NZ's in this camp. Play a lot of crib lately, had a rest from contract.
Five years of strong ambitious youth have gone down the drain. We could have been sitting pretty now. On my return what have I to offer you Darling? How long before I can give you a home? You are old enough to know the world and your own mind now and you must decide what you want out of life. After all love is not everything and neither can be happy unless both are. All for you to decide and I'd understand any decision you made.
Surely you can imagine our lives. Barbed wire and steel bars predominate so much that it is little wonder our minds become crabbed and rusty. One builds hope on hope to see them topple, one begins to doubt himself, life, God and the use of living in a world of madness. Many with me have had over four years of this life, yet those of us sane enough realise just how hard it is for wives and sweethearts at home - not that that makes our lot better. Often the fool is happier to see the meaning of so little and there is so much to see here that has long stories of misery behind to one of imagination and compassion.
One thinks at times that to bring children into this world is a crime. However we are fit and parcels regular. Books and bridge and work occupy us here. Well my dear, we'll marry early in '45. I guess if you still want the chap I now am.
I guess you are all on your toes too. It certainly looks like Xmas in England. Some even anticipate home. We have been put on ½ parcels as from next week. Private parcels seem to be a thing of the past now. You will notice I have changed my address again. Sure get around don't I? In this place are many old Italy POWs. Good to be together again. Majority of last commando went to coalmines after being medically examined.
Guess you are all close to the wireless these great days of big events. Our work at this place is not too arduous. In fact I with 11 others from the last place were sent here as only being fit for light work. Actually darling I have had a couple of spells in hospital in Germany which I have not before mentioned. I tell now as the end is in view. My darling we'll still have a hard row to hoe afterwards if we marry. I'm afraid I'm not as young or fit as once. These years of youth and strength have gone down the drain. But with luck and love we'll grab our happiness yet.
There'll undoubtedly be many changes at home now - we hear yarns of this and that but no confirmation. I guess you are not allowed to write of many things. Anyway I'll soon be seeing for myself - we are expecting happy news any tick of the clock.
Many rumours of things being done for our future reach us but all can't be true. Guess you're keeping an eye open for me but plans are as yet hard to make and anyway one is reconciled to taking life as it comes such as it is one can but do ones best or try. Don't ever worry we'll meet soon on Earth or elsewhere.
Fred Bowers and his brother are in this camp now. Fred was loose in Italy for 6 months. It is great the different experiences POWs have. Some strike lucky all the way. The ones who had a long spell in Africa behind wire - missed parcels - sickness or coal mines can tell different stories. Here prisoners are split up in small groups all over the place and conditions vary very much. We have had a few frosts but weather is still pretty good. I had learnt naturally a little German and Polish working with civies [Civilians] and now am picking up a little Czekish. It's funny to hear us talking at times to ones we're working with, mixing languages of countries we've been in. Still keeping fit Dear and hoping you are well and happy. The end is in sight now with all it means. Please God we'll be together soon.
Had our first snow yesterday but have plenty of clothes. Sent radio greetings yesterday.
Xmas Day again. Five have now gone past since we had one together but soon all our days will be Xmas Darling.
I hope you all had a happy Xmas and New Year, although it must have been a big disappointment not having Denis back with you. The way the Allies were moving forward in Sept justified anyone thinking that the war in Europe would be finished before Xmas. I am afraid we have underestimated the strength of the Nazi war machine and it may take some time to defeat Hitler. Still the longer the Nazis hang on, the bigger the beating they will get in the end. Poor Denis having had six Xmases away from home.
Related by Jean Caves and Michael Caves, December 2003
From his base at Stalag VIIIA, Denis worked at a sugar beet factory. He considered himself lucky to be working in a sugar factory, where he could eat the sugar. Some POWs even got fat eating the sugar. Denis said there was no point trying to escape, and if you behaved yourself and went with the flow it was Ok.
Some POWs died because they were too hungry to wait for rice to cook and ate it raw so that it swelled up inside them. Denis and others would catch and eat rats around the perimeter of the prison. They would fray the bulb of the grass and put it through the fence so that the rats would bite at it and get caught. Denis remarked that men would fight over rats. Red Cross food parcels kept the POWs alive and supply often got blocked. Denis was well disciplined with his Red Cross parcels while others gorged themselves and went hungry until the next delivery.
The POWs heard rumours of extermination camps but were disbelieving, respecting the Germans as an honourable race. Denis mentioned sighting factories and smelling an unusual smell somewhere in modern Poland. When Denis was in his 70s and in his last days in hospital, his nightmares returned and he remembered the 'factory.'
The Central Prisoner-of-War Museum In ŁAmbinowiceAt the site of the former Stalag VIIIB/344 at Łambinowice in Poland, southwest of the city of Opole, is located a museum dedicated to the former POWs who died at Lamsdorf. 40,000 Russian prisoners died at the camp and the museum understandably focuses on Russian and Polish experiences. There is a growing interest in British POWs, however, amongst the Opole University staff who administer the museum.
The Stalag 344 complex encompassed a number of separate camps and covered a very wide area in rural countryside. The site was originally an artillery range in the 19th century and was first used as a POW camp to hold French prisoners during the Franco-Prussian war of 1870. It was used as a POW camp again during WWI and resumed that role under the Nazis. In modern times, part of the area has returned to its original function as an artillery range, and is used by the Polish Army.
It is not possible to visit the exact site of the camp where the British prisoners were held because that area is now cordoned off for the artillery range, however visitors can drive part way down the tree-lined avenue that led to the British camp entrance. It was down this lane that Denis travelled to and fro.
Other museum sites include a POW cemetery, the site of the Russian POW camp which includes a reconstructed guard tower and the remnants of POW huts, a memorial to the Russian POWs who died at Lamsdorf, and the central museum building itself, which includes a number of displays and film available in different languages.
While the full records from Stalag VIIIB/344 are held at the University of Opole, the university staff at the museum are friendly and helpful and genuinely interested in the stories of their visitors.
Notes from Our Visit to the Museum in October2004'Stalag' denotes a POW camp for enlisted men. Officers were held at separate camps called 'Oflags.' 'Luft' denotes a camp for airmen. The VIII in Stalag VIIIB indicates it is a camp in administrative region VIII, southeastern Germany. The 'B' indicates that it is the second camp in that region.
Only enlisted prisoners, those in Stalags, were put to work in labour camps called Commandos. This is consistent with the Geneva Convention and the POWs were paid, albeit in 'camp money' which had no real value.
The toilet blocks were called 'forty-holers' or 'newsrooms' because they were a place of exchange of information between POWs from different huts.
Of the 200,000 Russians at Lamsdorf, 40,000 died. Of the 56,000 British (which includes New Zealanders), 300 died.
Stalag VIIIB held British prisoners, Stalag VIIIF held Russian prisoners. In 1943 they were combined to form Stalag 344 and the 'VIIIB' name was reallocated to the camp at Teschen.
Major John Dodge was a famous POW at Lamsdorf. He escaped many times and was eventually sent to Colditz.
Douglas Bader was also in Lamsdorf - there was an RAF section - before he too was sent to Colditz.
The museum's copy of the Encyclopaedia of Nazi Camps on Polish Soil lists Commando E494 at Gliwice and mentions that in 1945 there were 52 British prisoners loading transport in a railway station. This may give a clue as to Denis' activities in Gliwice/Gleiwitz if he was deemed not well enough to work in the coalmines.
"Onwards, ever onwards..."
The Great MarchMany New Zealand POWs from Teschen had been assigned to work camps further east in the coalmines of Silesia, including at Milowitz near Katowice in modern day Poland. The kiwi coalminers from Milowitz, nearer the advancing Red Army, were evacuated not long after Christmas 1944. Denis was not at the mines and was instead working further west on the railway at Oderburg on the Czech border northwest of Teschen. Oderburg was evacuated suddenly on 27 January 1945, although it's apparent from Denis' hastily scribbled note, "8pm: Grand Trek or retreat from Moscow?" that he had an idea of what was happening.
The column of kiwi coalminers from Milowitz passed into eastern Sudetenland in late January, and Denis' group from Oderburg may have joined this column. The POWs marched approximately 12 miles per day, and in early February they were climbing into the mountains on the Czech border with no definite destination.
This passage describes the evacuation of POWs from the Stalag VIIIB work camps around Teschen. Denis, evacuated from the Stalag VIIIB work camp at Oderburg, would have had a similar experience.
Hundreds of thousands of British and American servicemen were held as POWs in camps across Nazi Germany by the time of the Normandy landings in June 1944. As winter settled across Europe and the Allied advance threatened German borders, prisoners were moved away from liberating forces. The POWs were forced to march hundreds of miles in appalling conditions. Hundreds died of disease, starvation and exhaustion. Yet when the war was over those who survived found their extraordinary tale was largely ignored and forgotten.
This is one of the most courageous and brutal tales of the final months of the Second World War.
Stalag VIIIB was at Teschen in the far south-east corner of Germany, on the frontier with Poland and Czechoslovakia, and was a focal point for work camps at the many mines in the area. The flight from the Russians took the POWs completely by surprise. They were hustled out of bed by their guards in the middle of the night and were on the road immediately.
One prisoner writes: 'It was pitch dark in the countryside and freezing cold as we trudged along narrow winding roads. In the next 48 hours, we stopped for two hours only, so desperate were the Germans to get away from the Russian advance. We were keen to keep on the move too because the Russians were just as likely to mistake us for Germans and shoot us. When they finally decided we were out of the immediate danger area, they allowed us to sleep. But by then we were lost. Apparently we should have rendezvoused with the main body of British prisoners from Teschen but we had missed them and we were on our own.'
As they marched along country roads, in towns and villages along the way, the people were in out-and-out panic. The SS were shooting Russian prisoners of war and leaving their bodies to line the very roads that the Soviet tanks would soon be sweeping along. With good reason, the locals feared they would pay with their lives for this brutality. No one was safe. In the chaos, a wrong move meant death. A party of Ukrainian slave labourers had heard that their Russian liberators were close and had risen up against their guards, 'but they had jumped the gun and were all being shot.' The small group headed southwest towards the mountains of the Sudetenland, struggling through deepening snow, fighting off frostbite. Eventually they came down out of the mountains and turned on to bigger roads, where they found the main column of prisoners - 'thousands and thousands of them' - and joined up with them. Many were Russians, and still being appallingly treated by the German guards. The trail went on along minor roads, missing the towns and winding through the forests of Czechoslovakia. What food they received was watery dried vegetable soup and that not very often. They drank from cattle troughs. At night they were packed into big barns.
Timeline of Denis' Great March: January 1945-May 1945
Placenames are shown German/modern. [?] indicates we've been unable to decipher the handwriting.
This passage describes the westward evacuation of New Zealand POWs.
Military authorities in Germany had realised early in 1944 that prisoner-of-war camps situated in occupied territory to the east and west would be safer inside the German borders. The German High Command decided, on the pretext that Article 7 of the Geneva Convention required prisoners of war to be moved out of danger away from a fighting zone, that prisoner-of-war camps in Poland and eastern Germany would be evacuated westwards if Russian forces appeared likely to reach them. Moves would be on foot if necessary; and for a great many camps this was going to be the only means of travel. The adding of hundreds of thousands of prisoners to the already large stream of evacuating civilians and troops was to place an additional burden on the already disorganised rationing systems of the areas through which they passed, and was to cause them tremendous additional hardship and numerous otherwise avoidable casualties.
So began and developed in early 1945 the vast trek of prisoners in Germany from east to west. At first the objectives were fairly definite: men from outlying work detachments were moved towards stalags, staging at previously emptied work-camps
Denis was in this southern group crossing westward across Czechoslovakia destined for Bavaria.
The first large camps in Upper Silesia to be affected by the evacuation were Stalags 344 at Lamsdorf and VIIIB at Teschen. According to the original German plan Lamsdorf was to send as many as possible to Stalag VIIIA at Görlitz, in order to make way for prisoners from Teschen and the Upper Silesian Arbeitskommandos. In fact, Teschen was too far south for its occupants to outpace the Russian advance in a move north to Lamsdorf, and was forced, as were most of its detachments, to turn west into Czechoslovakia. All prisoners except the sick left Teschen in a snowstorm on 27 January. Extremely severe weather conditions in the first stages of their march cost them many cases of frostbite, one hospital at Oberlangendorf having to treat 25 of them by amputation
The general route of the column from Stalag VIIIB and its work detachments, as well as many of those from Stalag 344, was west through the southern tip of Upper Silesia, across the mountain ranges of eastern Sudetenland to Königgraz. Thence they moved in a general westerly direction towards Karlsbad.
For most columns the rations received from the Germans were meagre and irregular issues of bread, tinned meat and potatoes, and there was a constant struggle to get enough food to keep going. Fortunately most of them benefited by gifts of bread and often of hot food and firewood in the smaller Czech towns and villages. Later groups coming on the heels of many thousands of other prisoners did not fare as well as the first parties to pass through the Czechoslovakian countryside, and eventually the Germans forbade the giving of food to prisoners of war since the Czechs refused it to German civilian refugees. But by then the weather was better and the pace easier, often slowed down by congestion on the road ahead. Even if little or no food was forthcoming, the columns received an enthusiastic welcome from the friendly Czechs, a pleasant change from the sullen manner of the Sudeten Germans whose territory they had not long since come through.
The column from Oderburg [to which Denis belonged] marched for some 720 miles before it was released. After two months on the road, these men were in the same condition as those in the other columns which had travelled long distances. Their boots were worn, their clothing lice-infested, their bodies tired and undernourished. The party went to Karlsbad and then down to the flatter country around Chemnitz, where they received an issue of Red Cross food parcels brought by 'white angel' trucks. From Weiden they were taken on by train in late April to Plattling, where they were billeted in an old grain store. The day after arrival they were put on railway construction work for a new line that was being laid in that area, but a heavy air raid on the railway station caused their labours to be diverted to the clearing of debris.
This is the incident Denis wrote in his notebook as
'The Raid'of April 1945. While he described it as 'perfect' in the notebook, it also was the occasion of a close brush with death and some good fortune.There are at least two versions of this story. Firstly, as related by Michael Caves:
Denis was to be shot at dawn. He'd found a place where he was sneaking out of camp to get to the railway carriages containing the food. He got caught and a German officer ordered him to be shot at dawn the next day for stealing. Suddenly the Allies bombed the railway station and afterwards Denis ended up in a bomb crater with that very same officer. One of them had cigarettes, the other had matches and they swapped. The officer decided he needed every man to help with the clean up in the
aftermath of the bombing so Denis was let off. Secondly, as I recollect, this was one of the very few war stories Denis told me:
The POWs were at a railway junction where goods trains frequently stopped. Denis and some of his POW mates discovered a way to crawl along beneath the carriages and managed to get inside one of them. It was full of cheeses, full rounds. They stuffed as many as they could inside their clothes, under their shirts and coats and were on their way back when they were caught - uniforms bulging with cheese.
Both versions are consistent with the events at Plattling. The air raid was an event Denis did not forget: he would never allow his son and daughter Michael and Judith to squeal as children. He always remembered the women and children screaming when the railway station was bombed.
After some days at Plattling they were moved south again away from the United States forces, but the latter were close behind them. Eventually their guards abandoned them 20 miles from Moosburg, and here the Americans overtook them.
Denis' party marched from Plattling to Landau, southwards to Vilsbiberg and on 1 May southwards in snow and sleet to Kraiburg on the River Inn. The next day the POWs refused to go further, and their guards left them. Denis' notes vividly describe the events of 3 May and liberation by the American advance:
Hot water up 8am. Drink of Klim and under the blankets to be called by hot water up and my God, the Yanks too. One tank and a Guf[?]. So the great day has arrived. Just a recky patrol but 180 tanks are just 4 miles back and all is quiet. No sign of Huns bar a recky plane which was smartly shot down.
11am Frank and I sitting huddled in straw, miserable looking and cold, but have had a good breakfast. Who would have thought we'd finish POW life surrounded with C parcels.
4pm On the road to march back to safety across the Isar. Discard all but a little of our gear and board trucks. Welcome by 14th Amer. Armed Div. In trucks till 4am. Couple of hours sleep in grain store and on to Moosburg.
Michael Caves related these remarks by Denis about liberation:
The Yanks cleared out the Germans, and left the POWs with the gates open. The Gestapo and the Nazis didn't want to give up and were hiding out in the hills and shooting continued, so it wouldn't have been safe to escape across country. The wise ones sat and waited in the camp. Other POWs tried to fly planes home and crashed, or played with bombs and guns in their excitement, with sometimes tragic consequences so close to the end of the war.
At Moosburg there were assembled some 80,000 to 100,000 prisoners of almost every Allied nationality, and including a good number of New Zealand officers and other ranks. Like the other assembly centres, the stalag itself was badly overcrowded. Large numbers of men were sleeping on the floor, in some barracks with only a two-foot-wide sleeping space for each man, and sanitary and washing facilities were similarly choked. While the German ration was hopelessly inadequate, the dump of Red Cross food parcels established at the camp under International Red Cross Committee arrangements largely made good the deficiency except for bread and fresh vegetables. Bad weather held up the air evacuation of the prisoners, and some were billeted for a time near the airfield at Landshut not far away. By 8 May, however, the airfield was taking off several thousand a day to Rheims and Brussels.
Denis arrived at Moosburg at 4am on 4 May. It's unclear how long he stayed at Moosburg itself, but at some stage in the next few days he was billeted in a barn 4km from Landshut and on 10 May, he marched to the airfield. After many false alarms he was flown out at midnight bound for Brussels and England.
"No one could have longed for home and my own girl more than I have over these years."
3 May 1945
Denis liberated by American troops at Kraiberg in Bavaria, and trucked to Moosburg.
10 May 1945
Denis marched 4km to Landshut 134 airfield.
11 May 1945
Denis evacuated from Landshut by plane to Brussels in Belgium.
19 May 1945
Denis wrote from Folkestone in England. New pay book issued.
31 May 1945
Denis arrived in London.
1 June 1945
Denis began one month's leave. He visits relations in Northern Ireland and Scotland.
26 June 1945
Denis cut short his leave and traveled to Folkestone, hoping for an earlier berth home. He misses out.
9-16 July 1945
Denis had a week's leave in London.
17-25 July 1945
Denis passed time at Folkestone awaiting his ship's departure.
25 July 1945
Denis embarked for New Zealand on the H.M.S. Monowai.
2 September 1945
Denis disembarked at Wellington and sent a cable to Jean - "Home at last Darling".
3 September 1945
Denis arrived in Opotiki and is reunited with Jean and with his family.
On 3 May 1945, the 96th day since the march had commenced, the 14th American Armoured Division liberated Denis. The day before the prisoners refused to march any further and their guards abandoned them. They were first discovered by an American reconnaissance party, ahead of the main advance. Later that same day they were trucked out, back over the river northward, and billeted in a grain store near Stalag VIIA at Moosburg. At some stage the POWs moved to a barn closer to Landshut to await their turn to fly out. On 10 May they marched the 4km to the Landshut 134 airfield, and the next day Denis was on a plane to Brussels and Belgium.
This passage describes the evacuation of liberated POWs, including Denis, from Germany to England.
Release came to prisoners of war in Germany in such a variety of ways that a description of what happened to those at main camps and to a few of the hundreds of smaller parties cannot do more than cover some of the more typical aspects of liberation. Evacuation was a much more uniform affair. For, although a few of our men commandeered transport, most were willing to wait for instructions from those officers of the Allied occupation forces whose task it was to cater for released prisoners.
A plan had been made by Shaef in the autumn of 1944 for this evacuation, and a central organisation known as PWX was set up at Supreme Allied Headquarters, with liaison groups at major headquarters which worked through contact officers. The latter were sent forward by every possible means to areas where prisoners were assembled. There were representatives from the Dominions and from all arms of the service in these contact teams. They carried instructions to the prisoners in camps to remain there, and for those outside to report to the nearest transit centre, in order to simplify maintenance and documentation and to avoid any uncontrolled movements of prisoners which might hamper operations. A chain of transit centres was set up on the lines of communication, and ad hoc units were formed to organise and maintain them. The latter were equipped with special disinfestation, bathing, clothing and medical facilities, Red Cross services, YMCA teams to organise amenities, and Army Education teams to give up-to-date information. The plan was to evacuate prisoners by air to the United Kingdom. In view of the bad physical condition of many prisoners resulting from the forced marches they had undergone, the air evacuation was pushed forward with all possible speed, and some of the services provided at transit centres on the Continent never had a chance to function fully.
Ex-prisoners either remained in their camps, or were taken to a transit centre, or were found billets until they could be evacuated from the nearest important airfield. Sometimes 'K' rations and other army rations were supplied to prisoners in billets. As soon as possible they were taken to the airfield by army lorries and organised into groups of 30-odd ready for emplaning.
Almost as soon as the flights of Dakota transport aircraft arrived they loaded, took off, and headed back towards the west. Only the prisoners from a few camps in north-west Germany were evacuated direct to the United Kingdom in British aircraft; most were taken to France or Belgium, where they broke their journey and spent a night, or a few hours only, at a specially prepared transit centre before going on. Most of our men seem to have gone to either Rheims or Brussels.
The transit centre at Brussels, which was the one to which it had been intended that the majority of British ex-prisoners should go, received and sent on some 40,000 of them in three weeks at the end of April and in early May. As the streams of Dakotas arrived from Germany and unloaded, lorries took the ex-prisoners to the transit centre; and at the same time streams of British four-engined bombers were taking on to England those who had already passed through. At the centre they were given showers, new uniforms, and an advance on pay. They could stay a night in a hotel run by the Belgian Red Cross Society; they had full use of recreation rooms run by the YMCA; and they could go on leave to take advantage of private hospitality, or to buy presents in the city, or just to look around. A liaison officer speaks of the prisoners being 'all in rocketing spirits'. But most of our men's spirits did not reach their climax until they arrived in England, for not until then were they back among people and in an environment nearly the same as their own. There was in England the additional thrill of seeing again (or seeing for the first time) the country from which the forbears of most of them had come during the last hundred years.
I am part of the way home and out of Germany. Yesterday we flew from Landshut in Bavaria to the Belgian Capital [Brussels]. Received pay in Francs and English money. After chance of carrying on to England last night was gone we got around a bit. I ran into Lee Hill movie chap. He took a dozen of us around town for newsreel purposes so you may see my photo in papers and screen, admiring sights here [Movie Tone News May 1945]. We have been treated very well by all since recapture. Last night allowed the run of the town. Stayed sober however. It is quite a nice town and still decked out with flags of Allied nations. Today is fine and hot and we are awaiting arrival of planes to go on to England, all hoping no hitch in proceedings. Have been told we billet in Margate. Refit medical and dental exam, and start on a 28-day leave probably after 2 or 3 days. It will certainly be great reading your letters again Darling. It is ages since we have had any mail. Your last letter was an August one so you may even have tossed me by now.
The new army around here make us feel real old-timers. The songs they sing and even their slang make us feel almost strangers while the German words slipping into our conversation no doubt annoys them. Realisation of freedom is gradually dawning on me. Sometimes it takes a jump and one almost breaks down and weeps like a kid. Just some little thing will do it, like hearing Big Ben on radio or looking around for the postern and no Germans around. It would be too bad to have girls around dishing out sympathy yet - one whiff of scent, a tender word and a smile and I'd be gone, however if there are bags of loving letters they may hold me do you think? Gee, but Honey, I guess I love you more than ever so I'll not tease you.
Five years have been a hell of a wait but we sure look like coming good Darling. The prospect must be bright when an ex P.O.W. gets optimistic. Our faith in luck coming our way was at a very low ebb. You will probably know more of the possible date of our return to NZ at present than I do but after the month's leave to see around I hope its home and don't spare the horses. Home my God! Have I really got one! Coming out of the land of chaos one wonders that any of the old days is left. The last month or two were not war - it was bloody hell - Germans or no Germans, it was wholesale murder.
Well Darling Girl, take care of yourself a little longer and I'll be with you for good ("better or worse" perhaps I should say) if you still want me. We'll whoop it up Old Girl and high wide and handsome.
Just a note to let you know that I'm really on the way home at last. We flew from Landshut 134 in Bavaria to the Belgium capital and are now waiting word to move out to Drome and fly on to England. Great to be writing so casually of being in England after all these years of waiting but can hardly realise it is true yet. Our party are looking so fit and well that many out in the town won't believe that we are ex POWs. But our little party was incredibly lucky this last month. Have been treated well since recapture and I am told great yarns of things in England.
Hardly seems worth writing of adventures since leaving Oderburg on January 27th and recapture at Kraiberg near Munich on May 3rd.
Am now at Folkestone at a large hotel which had been evacuated and is now taken over by the Nth Infantry. Am waiting for dental repairs and mail from Grandma and Jean's uncle to whom I had written for permission to call before applying for my 28 days leave. Am physically fit. The English countryside is beautiful as is the seaside here. Had a great flight out of Germany. I have not done much here yet bar look at shops, try out the pubs and go to a variety show. Of women, I'm shy, horribly so. Can't get used to civvies [civilians] speaking English.
Have of course met up with most of the old crowd now - all have had very varied experiences. Am afraid we who were in Poland have had the hardest time but are Ok now. By my changes of address you will have seen that I shifted about a fair bit over there. Gorligt, Bismark (near Rattowity), Gliewity and 728 Oderburg on the Polish-Czechoslovakia border near the main area I was in. From Oderburg we marched 750 miles and finished up at Kraiberg in Bavaria (on banks of Inn).
Don't know just how long it will be before I get home but have just put in for 28 days leave from June 1st. So I guess any boat in July would suit me but may have to wait longer. I'd like to get into a private home for a while just to settle down - don't seem to be able relax and take things easy yet. But of course one can't expect to just slip back as we were - it took long enough to become accustomed to prison life.
On 31st May I left Folkestone for London, spent the night at the club there, collected my passport at the War Office next morning and some cigs from Halifax House then caught the Stran-raer Express at 4:45pm. Arrived at Stran-raer at 4pm. Military police still taking particular care of POWs so was escorted through customs and given a seat up on deck cabin.
Well my dear one I'm very pleased with all my new found relations, most are very nice and I'm certainly glad I came over to see them all. I don't know just how long I'll stay in Ireland. My
At present I'm at Aunt Hannah's in Glasgow for the weekend. Since last I wrote I have been round a fair bit. I saw all our relations in Ireland. I've been disappointed in the shopping. Most things are sold in the coupon system and of course we have none and other stuff like leather or jewellery, photos and such like are 5 to 10 times pre-war prices. Almost impossible to buy presents but hope to be able to get some nice things if we stop at Panama on our way home. I have thoroughly enjoyed my leave so far, it was great being able to go over to Ireland and I was very pleased with all my relations. It has been quiet but home life has meant a lot.
I've always believed in you Dear and had faith in you but when I had lost faith in the world, myself and almost everything, it was hard to really believe that I could depend on holding you my dear one. Sometimes I could hardly believe I had ever had any existence other than that behind barbed wire let alone having the sweetest, kindest girl ever waiting back home for me. You are right we won't make plans yet just let actual facts wait till we have been together and do things and talk together. Lovely words, you and I, together.
I was glad to see Denis' name in a list of NZs who have been POWs in Germany but were now safe in England. Denis' name was not in the first lists that were published as I suppose he did not get out of Germany quite as soon as some of the others. It must have been a great day for them all. I hope Denis will be able to get a little leave in the Old Country and that he will be able to call on some of his relations. However he will be impatient to get back and see you all.
D-Day has come for the '7ths' and we left the Division just over a week ago. We have waited so long for this time that even now it is very hard to imagine that we are A.P.R. (awaiting passage return). I tried to get back via England in order to see my people but I have not been successful so I will have to try and arrange for them to come and visit me in N.Z. someday.
I have applied for a place in draft but am afraid my chances are very slim. Any way if shipping continues as it has I should be on the water by the end of July. I am doing all possible to speed up my return. I've had a fine time on leave and could continue to do so, to have a good time, but I'll not be happy till I'm home now. Many chaps are making fools of themselves. It is all too easy with time hanging heavy on your hands just trying to fill in a few weary weeks before the boat for home sails. Gee, you know just those few words - 'the boat for home' - just about breaks a chap up. Fancy five years a soldier and as sentimental as all that. Keep well my dear ones, it really is so close to the greatest reunion one could ever have.
My leave is now over, in fact I came back three days early to try and catch a draft sailing next week but have missed it unfortunately.
Had no mail from you the last few days but at any rate I guess I don't deserve any after leaving such a gap in your mail on first arriving in England. However, I've explained that I was very unsettled at first and also Dear I had had no mail for such a long time at the finish in Germany that it was a little difficult. Another thing my dear I did not want to let you think that it would matter too much to me if after it was all over you really felt there was someone else. I did not want you to feel absolutely tied to me for after all you were young when we were engaged and I did not flatter myself that it would be impossible for you to meet someone you could like better. I realised that it would be very hard for a girl to give a chap up in the face of public opinion. I've always loved you and always will.
Darling, just think in six weeks we will, God willing, be together again. My boat for home is sailing on the 10th July just 8 days from now. Oh darling girl of mine, I'll be down the hold trying to help the stokers shovel coal to speed the old boat up. It still seems unbelievable that I'm really going to be on the way so soon. Once we're on the boat with every turn of the propeller taking me closer to you, it will be much more real. It won't be many weeks before we'll have a fulltime job taking care of each other for always.
Afraid I have some disappointing news for you, it was a blow to me. Out boat has been delayed and we are not sailing now till 24th at earliest. After all preparations and writing to acquaint everyone of departure we are now staying on
Through the boat being delayed most of us here have been granted 7 days leave. I have spent mine in London. I am going back to Folkestone tomorrow. I've seen Madame Tussauds wax works - quite good of course. Some of the figures surprised me greatly. For instance Hitler's hair was almost reddish not black as I'd always supposed. Have walked around quite a lot, seen Houses of Parliament, Westminster Abbey, Scotland Yard and all such like.
Still at Folkestone as you see. Three hundred names had to come off the list and they drew by ballot. Fortunately I was on the priority list as I had returned early from my first leave (28 days) and applied for early inclusion in a draft so I'm definitely on the next boat to leave and the 24th is the date unless any damn thing crops up again. Have had all my injections and vaccinations now, final one yesterday, and hence not feeling overly bright today.
Well today is a busy day with final preparations for departure. Have had a grand time in England and sorry to think that I may never come back again but of course one never knows just what the future holds. Probably take the best part of 6 weeks to get home.
This will be just a scratchy note on the way to the boat to let you know that I have actually started on the first stage of the journey home. We left Folkestone at 9:30am and will get to Liverpool sometime this evening. Hope you are all right dear and looking forward to my arrival home as much as I am. Darling I guess I'll be spending more time than ever trying to imagine our meeting. I wonder if you'll decide to meet the boat or wait for me at home. If the boat arrives Wellington probably be better to wait.
Anyway letter writing will soon be at an end and we can discuss our plans with each other. Hope our long separation will not lead to too many disappointments and difference of outlook now. We have been inclined always just to look at the end of the war as being the end of all troubles and worries but it actually means the beginning of responsibility again. But Jean, I guess we'll make out all right. So soon now my Dear we'll be together.
I can make no plans for the future yet. Will have to find out just what the war has done to New Zealand first. It's funny the idea of it all now, home coming is getting so close, seems very strange and I'm beginning to dread it all a bit. Just stupid I guess. Because no one could have longed for home and my own girl more than I have these years.
Denis travelled by train from Wellington to Hamilton then caught the bus to Opotiki. Jean had thought Denis would be arriving on the regular bus service but he arrived three hours early on a special bus for returning soldiers. Jean had just sat down to midday dinner when the phone rang to say Denis was at his parents' home. Leaving her meal uneaten, she rushed over to the Caves house on Ford Street.