At this point I lost touch with my comrade. I was placed in a very small room with just enough space for a bed. It was now late evening. The light in the room was left on, the door left open and a guard with an automatic weapon posted at the door. Strangely enough I slept although I can remember at one point during the night jumping up in bed as I heard the shells slamming into my Spitfire.
In the morning I was placed in the custody of another English-speaking German officer of corresponding rank to mine. The Germans are so technically correct! A gefreiter who did not speak English also accompanied us. I cannot recall how we got to the railway station, where we went into the restaurant and had a cup of ersatz coffee and a bun. As we came out a large crowd of French had gathered and were pointing and shouting “Canadien, Canadien.”

Most Memorable Op 3

hey many came up, pressing into my hands small parcels of candy, cookies and other food. Again neither the officer nor the gefreiter made any attempt to stop them. We boarded a passenger train and while waiting for departure another group of French people came along with packets of goodies for me. At this point the officer called guards to disperse the crowd, telling me “You have enough.”
As we proceeded on towards Germany I asked my escorting officer what route we would be taking. He explained in detail, pointing out that we would go through Cologne and likely stop the for an hour or so. I told him that it would be impossible to go through Cologne, as we had bombed it a couple of nights before with 1,000 bombers. He turned to the gefreiter and apparently translated what I had said. They both burs out laughing, thinking it a big joke.
A few hours later the train came to a standstill and after some delay the officer sent the gefreiter to determine the problem. On his return there was a serious conversation between the two, then the officer turned to me and said that we could not go through Cologne and were being rerouted. I did not feel it was an appropriate time to smirk or say “I told you so!”
Later while stopped at another German train station, the officer took me for a walk on the platform to stretch my legs. There I was approached by a well-decorated member of the Luftwaffe who clicked his heels, saluted and shook hands, saying in English, “I see you are an enemy flier. I hope your stay in Germany will be pleasant and not too long - I understand that the air force prisoners are well cared for.” He then stepped back, clicked his heels, saluted, and was on his way.
In early evening we arrived at Frankfurt and my officer escort told me I would be left in a cage overnight at the railway station. He would see me in the morning. Eventually I was shoved into a room full of Royal Air Force types. I couldn’t believe my eyes, as I had assumed the POWs were few and far between. They were all Bomber Command personnel, it turned out, who had been shot down on the big raids on Cologne and Essen. They were all in good spirits, I guess happy to be alive. I was able to share my little packets of candy and other goodies with this hungry mob.
Sure enough, next morning my officer escort was there to claim me and took the streetcar right through Frankfurt. From there we walked to my first prisoner of war camp- Dulag Luft, where I was turned over to camp officials. My escorting officer saluted me, shook hands and wished me well. I was then taken to one of the little holding cells to undergo the usual interrogation. And thus began three years of captivity,           08/02/01