Josef
When the shelling stopped
They came for us
Come out with your hands up
A thousand thoughts a second
Tell them you're a farmer
The prisoners on farms
Seemed to be looked after
If they worked
They took us from Camp Beverlo
To Edingen, Zedelgem
Ostend to Tilbury
Waterloo
The transit camp at Kempton Park
Searches and interrogations
Digging ditches for new homes
Then we built the roads
Purfleet was primitive in '46
Eight to a tent
Sleeping on the floor
At least amongst the thousands
Someone had a football
Provided by the YMCA
Some they took to work on farms
Others to Romford, a building site
The captain took me to a pig farm in Theydon Bois
Electric light
A radio
Cocoa and cigarettes
It wasn't like this in the camp
The Morgans made us a Christmas dinner
That I'll never forget
At Hayes Hill Farm
I met my wife
Hers a summer job
Mine a POW's labour
Growing tomatoes
Her father, wounded in the First World War
Clearly did not approve
Demobbed
I decided to stay
Taught myself English from a dictionary
One word at a time that I never forgot
Still people ask
Where are you from?
That night in Venlo was cold
Heinz was injured
Karl, Werner and I thought about escape
But the game was up
Where would we have gone?
Stephen Gospage
Sat 11th Nov 2023 08:24
A warm, optimistic poem, Steve, enhanced by the fact that so many of the places are familiar from my childhood.
My Dad once told me about having to take charge of captured German soldiers at the end of World War Two. I remember him saying that they were 'just like us' and just wanted to get back to a peaceful life. I like to believe that, deep down, everyone does.