Private Bill: In Love and War by Barrie Cassidy

Author:Barrie Cassidy [Cassidy, Barrie]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780522866148
Publisher: Melbourne University Publishing
Published: 2014-11-06T05:00:00+00:00

13 Unbearable Reminders

As the cattle train released its miserable cargo, the shouting and the pushing were reminiscent of Salonika where the journey had begun. The guards simply wanted the men to form a line, however randomly. But so exhausted were their charges that even that took an eternity. When it was finally achieved, the men were marched down a seemingly deserted highway and over a bridge. As they crossed, an Australian POW, too tired to speak, just brushed against Bill and gestured over his shoulder. Bill looked around and saw the magnificent Wolfsberg Castle up on a hill, towering over its namesake town. It was sprawling and splendid, intriguing, yet at the same time ridiculous and irrelevant.

Bill tried to keep pace with his companions, but he was distracted by the houses on the banks of the river—pristine little cottages, all of them with rear gardens choked with vegetables. What I wouldn’t give to run amok in those allotments, he thought. He was most struck by the ordinariness of it all. The well-scrubbed locals were tending their gardens and watering their window boxes while cyclists cruised alongside the river. It was as if the prisoners, who were hungry, dirty and at the mercy of their captors, simply didn’t exist.

The crude wooden double gates of a POW camp soon came into view. Stalag XVIII A was a huge compound nestled between two seemingly endless mountain ranges. It had perhaps twenty barracks. At regular intervals within the high wire fence that marked the perimeter of the camp were roughly constructed wooden guard towers, each about 10 metres tall and accessed by ladders.

It was early evening by the time Bill, Bluey Elliott and the other POWs were assembled on a parade ground, separated for the time being from the hundreds of other prisoners who were being held at the camp. Even from a distance, the newcomers could sense the camp’s inmates looking at them with curiosity and concern, empathising with their hurt, hunger and filth. A German officer told the men in broken English that they would shortly be given some food, but that they’d have to wait until the next day for showers. The thought was almost intolerable to them—yet another night in urine-soaked clothing, battling the lice and the stink. But when the food arrived, they were distracted from their misery. It was basic but plentiful: mashed potatoes and boiled cabbage served on large tin plates. That night the men slept on straw beds inside a barrack. For the first time in a week, Bill had more than a couple of hours of broken sleep.

The next morning the men shuffled back onto the parade ground, where guards passed around small slices of grey bread and mint tea. After eating, they were ordered to strip off, including their boots. Every item of clothing was to be thrown into a huge boiler and disinfected. While that was happening, hundreds of naked POWs lined up to pass under some outdoor showers. Despite the humiliation, for Bill, the feeling of the cool water washing over him at the end of a hot summer day was sheer bliss.

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