Prisoner of War (POW) Shot down by flak and crashed at Wesermunde on 8/4/44 in B-17 #43-37929



POW



The following is a transcript of a letter (dated 30 August 1945) that Samuel sent to his friend Greta Jamieson in the village of Newton, after he returned home to Honolulu. It is reproduced with kind permission of the Box River News, with thanks to Ed Kench, Tina Loose and the Rice family.



'It sure has been a long time, hasn't it? You might think that I had forgotten, but I don't pass up people I really like. I arrived home on the third of this month and was really feted like the proverbial long lost boy. I wish you could spend a vacation here. How are you and the rest of the folks? Please convey my best regards as I really feel like one of the family.



I suppose you want to hear my story. To make it short, I was shot down on the 4 August 1944. We were heading for Hamburg as our target. Everything went haywire that day; one of my nose guns went out on me and I wasted about 20 minutes on it and finally had to enlist the help of my engineer who fixed it in about 10 minutes while we were on course at about 20,000 feet. We went by way of the North Sea, departing from England climbing on course. We entered Germany by way of a narrow, (supposedly flak-free corridor between two cities, Cuxhaven and Wesermunde). We managed to get by without mishap, but on skirting Bremen on our right as we were heading south, we ran into a terrific barrage of flak as the city hid itself by burning smoke pots and shot up everything they had. We were flying the same position as Paul George was when he was shot down (what a coincidence): the No.3 position on the lead element of the squadron.



The first burst that hit us knocked out two starboard engines simultaneously and we had only the two port engines left. The pilot managed to keep the ship under control but we were left far behind the rest of the formation due to lack of power and we were gradually losing altitude. We kept on going with the intention of following the rest over the target by ourselves. Then the next burst put the finishing touches. It caught us directly below the nose compartment and the burst seem to explode right in the nose; there was a muffled explosion with some black smoke and the poor bombardier was somersaulted right into my lap head over-heels almost. A piece of shrapnel had deflected from the bomb sight and hit him in the calf. He was momentarily stunned; I pulled him back and gave him a little help - fixing back his oxygen into another outlet and handed him the first aid kit. Then I noticed that I couldn't breathe through my own oxygen...I looked at the gauge and it registered zero. What a fix! I tore off the mask but we were down from 26 thousand to about 20 thousand then. Then the pilot called me up and asked for a heading to turn back. I gave him a rough 180 and intended to make that squeeze play again. Then to top of it all, fire broke out after we turned round. I called up the pilot and told him, if we had to bail out, we had better do it over land instead of the cold North Sea. Then came the orders to hit the silk. I motioned to the bombardier to go ahead. I followed him out. I made a free fall (a count of about 30) and jerked my ring. As I dangled in the air, do you know what I was thinking. I thought that I was a pretty lucky guy as I saw our plane about 8 miles away giving two final circles and then burst into flames and exploded into pieces. I also thought how you would cry over me believing that I was gone forever from this earth. I felt sorry that I couldn't let my mother and my folks know that there was nothing to worry about.



I was finally captured by the Wehrmacht as I hit the ground. They searched me and took my escape kit and my pen plus my watches. Then I was taken on the truck after the rest of the boys were picked up within the vicinity of 10 miles and went to Wesermunde Hitler Youth camp where we stayed for a couple of days. The bombardier and the engineer were both hit in the leg and the co-pilot had his eyes scratched by the parachute opening up in his face and the radio-operator and the tail gunner sprained their ankles. I was unscratched. I missed you quite a bit - you know how I always came home to see you after I returned from a mission.



Then from Wesermund we were railroaded to Dulag Luft for interrogation at Obereusel near Frankfurt on the Main. I was in solitary confinement for about 5 days while they tried to sweat out some information. I told them that according to the Geneva Conventions that all they will get out of me was name, rank and serial number. The German Captain (who flew in the last war and was wounded a number of times and was now an interrogation officer due to his age) then threatened to throw me to the Gestapo because he thought he could bluff me into talking because I could be executed as a parachutist spy. He gave up after 5 days; I was polite but firm. I was a bit apprehensive though as after all I was at the mercy of my victors. We ended up pretty good friends. He told me that it wasn't necessary as he showed me a huge book with the picture of the squadron C.O. and told me the name of the outfit I belonged to and where we were based in England and then to top it all he showed me a map of the route we took from the time we left England going in over the target and back. I was certainly amazed but did not verify anything.



From Obereusel after solitary confinement and interrogation we were taken nearby to Wetzlar (where the famous Leica cameras were made in peacetime) where we went to a Red Cross Camp to get some clothes, shoes and toilet articles. A few days later we were transported by train to Stalag Luft 3 in Sagan near Poland (in Silesia to be exact) where we stayed in the North compound with a lot of RAF and RAAF and New Zealanders, Polish Flying Officers. Life wasn't too bad here, it was pretty well regulated. There were only two roll call formations to be made and the rest of the day was for ourselves. In fact during the summer, it was just like a rest camp; only without enough food. We didn't starve. In the winter I sure hated the cold freezing weather. It was the coldest winter for Germany. I believe with averages of minus eighteen below Centigrade. I wrote a lot of letters to you but I wondered if any went through. I didn't receive any letters at all (except two from the United States about a week before liberation about 8 months later.)



Gee, I believe I'm a bit long winded. I think I better continue in another letter as the gang here with me is rushing me to go crabbing. I am temporarily spending about two weeks at my uncle's place up the island of Kauai. Cheerio for now.'

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Sam wrote to Greta Jamieson again on 1 September 1945. This is a transcript:



“We were imprisoned in Stalag Luft III in Sagan about 90 miles SSE of Berlin in a fairly established camp. Red Cross food parcels came in fairly regular and together with the German rations, we had enough to eat..... but you can be sure nobody put on weight. I lost about 15 pounds during the period from August to January. In January, you remember the Russians began the big winter offensive and tore across the country and were coming across the Oder. There were rumours of all sorts; some to the effect that we might have to evacuate camp, some believed there were too many prisoners to move and then came an ugly rumour that we might be executed by the SS troops. Then on the night of the 28 January came the orders to evacuate camp. What a flap! We were having evening tea at 9 and somebody dashed into the barracks with the word that other compounds nearby had orders to push out. We threw everything upside down making packs and putting our belongings into knapsacks and making sleds, tearing up all the room furniture and bed sheets, etc.



We left camp about 2.30 in the morning in freezing weather and marched all night and morning, resting 10 minutes every hour until we hit a market place called Freiwaldau where we had lunch. (With Soviet troops only 16 miles away, the remaining 11,000 POWs were marched out of camp with the eventual destination of Spremberg. In below-freezing temperatures and 6 inches of snow, 2,000 prisoners were assigned to clear the road ahead of the main group. After a 34-mile march the POWs arrived in Bad Muskau where they rested for 30 hours before marching the remaining 16 miles to Spremberg.) The water was frozen, the bread sandwiches we prepared were like crunching icy biscuits. We were all tired and my hands and feet were numb from cold. (You know how I hate cold weather.) We had been dragging a huge 5 man sled with all our belongings of the 8 men in our room for about 28 kilometers. We then continued our journey towing the sled, taking turn relieving one another every hour. We could only go at a very slow pace. At night we slept in barns on straws or with horses or cattle for warmth. We were on the go for about 10 days until we hit Spremburg where we entrained for Nuremberg.



Oh yes, I must tell you about the incident where I nearly let myself freeze to death at a place called Muskau on the trek from Sagon to Spremberg . We were supposed to stop for the night and sleep in a glass factory on the top of the hill at Muskau, but upon arrival we found out that the place was too crowded. Nobody knew what the situation was. We had given up every bit of energy going up the steep hill with that bulky 400 pound sled with the idea that here was journey's end. And then to hear that we had to keep on going further to where no body could tell. Even the few guards were apathetic and it was getting dark, we were dragging one foot after the other as if in a trance. I believe most of the boys (those that did not already give up along the roadside and laid down on the snow) were just running on will power. Finally F/Lt Zillesen (RAF- you might have heard of him) with his command of the German spoken language went up on ahead and found out that we were supposed to encamp at a French POW Camp about 4 kilometers from Muskau. We turned off from the main road into a side road with drifts up to a foot and the towing began to be so slow and tiresome a lot of the boys just gave up and laid down beside the snow. I don't know whether they were picked up later or not. Anyway it was here that I had a terrific belly ache plus my exhaustion that I must have been in a daze. I couldn't keep up with the rest of my room mates and ashamed as I was that I couldn't keep up in helping pull the sled that I told them to go on by themselves. I stayed back barely able to stumble and pick up my feet. Then after I relieved myself of my pain, I intended to rest a bit on the snow. Had it not been for the assistance of my Australian room mate I would have fallen asleep on the snow. We kept on and finally reached destination – a destitute French prisoner-of-war camp. The Frenchies were very obliging people.



After a couple of days we rested up and then the Americans left camp while the British stayed behind. The idea was to separate all the Americans and the British. When we pulled out to the main road there were thousands and thousands of American Air Force prisoners just littering the road and we took our turn joining the formation. It was strung out miles upon miles and we could see all sorts of civilian evacuees on horse carts fleeing from the Russians on the East front. German troops were coming and going. The road was about thawing and everything seemed to be in the peak of confusion.



And finally after days of marching we decided to modify our sleds into back packs because the melting slush was difficult going with a sled we had to drag. Marching at night was pretty rugged because it as slippery and dark and going up hills we slid and fell many a time especially when the ice was too hard and smooth from so many fellows walking it smooth.



Finally we arrived at Nuremberg. Nuremberg was a miserable place to be in. Day and night, the place was pounded by night raids by the RAF and daylight raids by the Americans. The place was full of fleas (being formally occupied by Italians). To top it all, there was an extreme scarcity of food for a while as every time any food or any supply was on the move to us, every vehicle was being strafed from the air by our eager fighter boys. In fact, the

situation was so bad at times that we had to exist on about a fifth of a Red Cross parcel for a week and we were down to 900 calories for a couple of weeks. We were being fed dehydrated potatoes and a sort of weed soup that we called “Green Death” because it tasted awful. We

saved up potato skins many a time and fried it up with margarine. My combine (6 men who stuck together in a sort of partnership of convenience for the division of food) had to resort to splitting up a can of meat to last for two days. The German issue of black bread was

sometimes reduced from one 7th to one 14th of a loaf per man. We cut the bread very thin to get more slices to get the impression we were eating more. We ate the kernel of prune seeds. Personal relations with one another were at breaking point and there were a lot of

quarrels over nothing and over the division of food. When the food was being divided, it had to be done to the most minute fraction or else people would jump on the divider's throat.



The boys were getting haggard and thin. Morale was pretty high however. We never lost hope. At nights, our meals were sometimes interrupted by an air raid and we had to sit in the dark and manage. The thawing winter was bitter cold. I must have lost an additional 10

pounds or more here. Everybody had a mild case of dysentery or cold here. I myself was coughing blood from my throat for a couple of days. There was no fuel provided and in desperation we often tore up sides of buildings including the latrines and bed boards etc. in

defiance of German and American court- martial.



Then after about a month we evacuated camp heading for Moosburg (Stalag Luft VII-A) (a march of about 100 miles). It was the approach of spring. We had to march at nights for the first few days because the American senior officer was afraid of being strafed on the road.

It is very miserable marching in the nights because you cannot see very far ahead and after a while one feels like a mechanical being walking in a fantastic dream. It rained a few nights. We often fell asleep in the rain. It was not as bad as the evacuation march from Sagan to Nuremburg. After a few days of marching, the weather was beautiful and we could often see huge mass bombing formations on their way to bomb towns nearby., I heard then that our boys in the air knew where we were and that they had orders to be careful to drop only

where they were supposed to drop. A few fighter planes came down on the deck to buzz us and wag a wing to show us that they knew what the score was. We slept in barns most of the time. Bavaria (the area we were in) was a country farming place and we were treated fairly

decently by the country folk. We scrounged bread and eggs whenever we could by offering cigarettes or soap from our Red Cross parcels in exchange. Cigarettes had a high medium of exchange. A pack of cigarettes (American brand) could be exchanged for a whole loaf of

bread sometimes. The best places to go was where the people had not been subjected to too many POW pestering them before. The later part of this journey was like a picnic. We had a lot of spuds which we made fried, boiled, mashed, etc. Red Cross trucks driven by our GI drivers came through to meet us on the road and we got about a parcel a week. We finally hit Moosburg.



Moosburg, was a huge camp... Russians, French, Indians, Poles,Australians, a few Belgians, English, and Air Force, Parachutists, Infantry, etc. were represented. (Originally Stalag Luft VIIA was planned for 10,000 prisoners, but at its liberation some 110,000 Allied soldiers were detained in the main camp.) Here we stayed a little more than a couple of weeks before we were liberated by the Third Army. We could hear heavy artillery fire a week before and we knew the allies were pushing through and the big day would be any day soon. That morning of April 29th we were cooking our meagre breakfast in the yard when machine gun slugs came whistling above our heads as the tanks came down the rolling hills and a fighter plane was circling overhead. We hit the ground until the chatter abated , then dove into the hut. Then that afternoon the German flag was lowered and our Stars and Stripes were raised amid cheers and shouts. Still we had to wait in camp for about two weeks before we were flown out to Le Havre, France, on C47s. Here we were given a good bath, fresh clean clothes and a new blouse and uniform. We went on a special diet and had most of our papers straightened and waited to be shipped back to the States.



Then we went across the United States by train where we stayed a while at a reception station. Then I caught an army transport plane and crossed the Pacific to the good old Hawaiian Islands. That in brief is my story.



Well, are you married yet? I am sending you a snapshot of myself and later on a photo. Will you please send me your photo. I lost the snap shot that you gave me as my belongings have not been returned to me yet. Give my best regards to the rest of the family.



Forever,

Sam.



P.S When I told you that I loved you like a brother, that was only partly true It’s a little more than that. “