Chapter Ten: A Change of Scenery

July 1, 1940

The following two days after the escape attempt had been slow. They had not covered as much ground, and were forced to stop earlier than usual on both days. The prisoners were relieved and sensed that their march was coming to an end. They heard snippets of news from the guards here and there about a train. Also, they stopped close to towns as well, but still out in the fields.

On the third day, they were marched for half the day and then stopped at a train station outside a larger town, called Mannheim. Actually, the station was not a real station. It was a small platform and building, all run by the Wehrmacht. It seemed that this was where the prisoners would be put onto the trains, keeping them away from civilians. Still, there were civilians who passed by on the road that ran alongside the tracks. They went by on bicycles mostly, and then some trucks. They were mostly farmers, headed into town. The prisoners were made to sit down in lines again, as they had done back in France. They sat out along the track and road.

It was hot, now that it was early afternoon, and the prisoners were grateful when water was passed around again. Each man's body had become accustomed to the rations, and it was easier to cope with each day. They were all skinnier, yet more tolerable to the heat.

The highlight of the wait for the train was when some children came by. There were six of them, and they came running from the across the fields. Two girls, about eight or nine, were running with kites. Two boys, also around the same age, were walking behind, obviously trying not to act as excited as the girls were. Then, another boy and girl, a couple years younger, came walking, hand in hand, true childhood sweethearts. The two boys curiously went up to the Wehrmacht soldiers, who were all smiles towards the kids. One let the boys hold his gun. The girls were handed some chocolate by another soldier, and they shared it with the younger couple. The two young ones were very shy, but the chocolate made them less nervous.

The prisoners, meanwhile, watched the children play. The boys began to act like soldiers and marched around the field in single file. They had a 'shoot out' as well. The two young ones watched from the sideline, their eyes wide at the noises the boys made as they shot at one another with their fingers. The two girls pranced around with their kites. Most of the prisoners, and even the guards were mesmerized by the colorful kites up against the background of the blue sky that was dotted with the slow moving cotton balls.

The children's playfulness was refreshing for the prisoners and guards.

It was not too much longer, though, that a whistle sounded from down the tracks. Haussler, who had been in the little building, came out. The guards' backs went straight, guns up, eyes and ears alert. The prisoners looked up, apprehension swelling at this new point in their journey. The children, sensing a change in the atmosphere, went quiet, and watched the proceedings.

The train came up to the shabby station, and stopped with loud screeches. The first cars were passenger cars, and following them, cattle cars. The prisoners were ordered up, but kept in their lines. Then, the guards went up to the train, and slid the cattle car doors open. Haussler addressed them all again.

"This next leg of the trip is by train," he said. "You will get food now, and later at our next stop. Should anyone find a way to escape, the same consequences as last time follows: however many escape, is how many will be shot. There will be fifty men to a car. This should give you enough room to at least sit. Be thankful for that. Now, get in."

The prisoners were quickly divided up into groups of about fifty. The prisoners tried to make it so that there was less than fifty in each group. The guards, usually very efficient about the numbers, did not bother to count them this time. They seemed to be in a rush. Once a group was made, they were herded into the cars. The prisoners climbed in, helping each other up.

Peter, Louis, Stephen, Marcel, and Luke managed to stay together. Stephen was the last one in, and everyone in the car watched as the door was slid shut, with a foreboding thud. Rays of sunlight crept in through the slits between the boards. As one, they all began to sit down and get comfortable. There was some hay (a thin layer) on the ground that provided nothing but a bad odor. They wondered if it really had been cows that were in here last. Still, the idea of not having to walk anymore was welcomed by the prisoners.

About a half hour later, the train lurched forward. Louis looked out the car through the slits. Outside, a breeze picked up, and the girls' kites went higher than ever. As the train began to leave the station, the boys ran. The train picked up speed, and they kept running as fast as they could. The two younger children watched curiously. Then, with the train's whistle, and a turn in the tracks, the children were no longer seen.

Louis looked back inside the car. Everyone was looking at one another, wondering as to where in the heck they were going to end up now.

"I'm going to sleep," said Luke suddenly.

Some of the men chuckled, but to everyone, that seemed to be the best course of action. They all shifted around some more, resting their heads on each other, and trying to keep their boots out of each other's faces. Soon enough, despite the rough surface, and the train's loud engine, and being able to hear the tracks rush by beneath them, they were on their way to dreamland.

***** ***** *****

July 3, 1940

All thoughts of better travel left the prisoners' heads quicker than they would have liked. After sleeping through the rest of the day and most of the night, they woke up an realized how stuffy the cattle cars were. Then, as the sun rose over them, and the summer heat came up, it became even more uncomfortable. At least, outside, whilst walking, they had been able to feel the breeze every now and then. Also, there came the situation of where to relieve oneself. Finally, a corner was designated, and everyone just did their best to keep away from it. Still, by the time night fell, the car was smelly and nauseating.

They did not stop that night, and the absence of food was felt. It was harder to go to sleep that night, from the smell and the hunger pangs. During the day, they had amused themselves with talk, songs, riddles, and some games that required nothing more than the mind. Peter entertained them some with simple magic tricks, such as making one's dog tags disappear, or pick-pocketing that was supposedly out of his reach. But as night fell, and the feigned optimism died away, the mood became slightly depressing as the unknown in their future grew larger.

The following morning, the prisoners woke up to the screeching of the brakes as the train came to a halt. They peered outside through the cracks, and saw that this time, they were not out it the country. They were in a large city. Civilians and soldiers alike bustled around the platforms. The prisoners had their eyes and noses pressed to the wood, trying to get a look around this German city. The station was covered, of course, so it was difficult to see anything.

"We are in Nuremberg," said Marcel.

"'Ow do you know that," asked Peter. "You been 'ere?"

"Non," said Marcel. "But it says Nürnberg Train Station over there on that sign."

Everyone looked.

"Oh," said Peter.

"Wonder what we're doing here," said someone.

"It cannot be good," said Louis.

"Look, there goes the Captain," said Stephen.

Everyone strained to see as Haussler and four of his men strolled from the train and onto the platform. They went up to a pair of SS guards that were overlooking the station. Haussler conversed with them for a few moments and then walked back to the train.

"You think this is just a pit stop," asked Luke. "Or is this it?"

"I sure hope not," said someone. "I wouldn't want to be around all these civilians."

"But we could use some food," said another prisoner. "This is probably just a pit stop. I mean, where are they going to keep a bunch of POWs in a city?"

Others murmured their opinions.

"Look," said Marcel. "There goes 'Aussler again."

Once more, the prisoners shifted around to try and get a glimpse of their captor.

"Maybe 'e'll get 'it by a train," hoped Peter aloud.

They chuckled, and Stephen said: "Now that would be a blessing."

"Look, all of Haussler's men are leaving," said Luke.

"I bet this is just a pit stop," said someone.

"Oh great," said Marcel.

"What," hissed another prisoner.

"It is the SS," answered Marcel. "They are all approaching the train."

"Oh Blimey," said Peter. "I've 'eard about these guys. Read about them in the papers. Real monsters they are. They're like 'Itler's private army."

"I did not know you could read," said Louis.

"Shut up," replied Peter with a playful smack to Louis's arm.

"They are Hitler's private army," stated Captain Lawrence. "They weren't around before the war. I hear that the regular army generals just hate these guys. They're all domestic security, you know. They do a lot dirty work, cleaning up civilians, just so Hitler can do whatever he wants."

"Shh," said Stephen. "Here they come."

The prisoners moved away from the walls of the cattle car as far as they could. They were silent as the shadows of the inspecting SS soldiers flickered by. No one breathed. They listened and tried to decipher through what the Germans said as well. When they passed, Luke nudged Marcel.

"What did they say," he asked.

Marcel shrugged. "Just insults. About 'ow bad it smells, and 'ow food should not be wasted on us."

One prisoner swallowed. "Well, they sure aren't wasting very much."

"You can say that again," replied Peter as his stomach growled. Some of the men chuckled.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, the clank of metal, and the door on the car slid open. The prisoners all turned to the entrance, rubbing their eyes as more light than usual streamed into their musty cattle car. When everyone was able to see, they saw an SS officer, a Lieutenant, and four of his men standing on the ground looking up at them all curiously. In the background, civilians on the platforms paused, their attention captured by the sight of the enemy soldiers in their befuddled state.

The officer smirked and said something to his men, who then laughed. Then, in hesitant English, the officer spoke to them. "You are hungrig…hungry…nein?"

Marcel pushed forward to the front of the prisoners and nodded. "Ja. Ja, sehr hungrig. Bitte, haben Sie irgendeine Speise, oder sogar Wasser?" (1)

The SS men were surprised that the French soldier knew German, and the officer smiled, giving a respectful nod. "Your command of our language is good, Frenchman," he said in German. "Where did you learn it?"

"School," replied Marcel, restraining himself to patience. "I was later a reporter and even went to Germany and wrote editorials to our people about your efficiency and great standards. But then, I was drafted. You would not keep food from a man who was forced to fight, would you? And you must realize, that these men here, we have all been drafted. We did not willingly put ourselves in this situation. We would never have let ourselves be humiliated he

"But you have been," countered the Lieutenant. "You still fought, no? You still killed men of Germany, no?"

"Only out of survival," pleaded Marcel. "You must know. You are a soldier. You understand that in war, it is more of fight for survival than a fight for ideas."

"Not here, in Germany," replied the Lieutenant. "Here, we are proud to fight for our country."

Marcel sighed. "Please, sir, we just ask for food and water. Bread is all we need. But we have not had food in two days."

"Two days," echoed the Lieutenant, thoughtfully. "That is a long time."

"Yes, it is," Marcel readily agreed.

"And since you have gone that long without food, I am sure you will go at least two days more without it," said the Lieutenant. "Auf Wiedersehen." And he then promptly shut the door in Marcel's shocked face with the sound of his men's laughter in the background.

Marcel slowly turned around to his comrades. "I tried," he said softly.

Stephen patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, lad. These brutes had planned all along not ter give us any grub."

Peter cursed. "Ruddy monsters. They liked watchin' us beg for it, an' then denyin' it just to see our faces fall. "

The prisoners grumbled more out of anger, but were cut off when they heard someone speaking outside. They moved to the wall facing the platforms so that as many could see as possible. Outside, it was the SS officer speaking to the civilians. The prisoners were all silent, even though most of them could not understand the Lieutenant. When he was done, the civilians went back to their busy lives.

"Wot 'e say," asked Peter, looking to Marcel.

"'E was assuring the civilians that we were just Allied soldiers," explained Marcel. "'E said that we were just passing through and that no one should be alarmed, because we were not staying."

"So it is a pit stop," said Luke.

Louis rolled his eyes. "A pit stop where we were supposed to get food. I bet le Capitaine and 'is men are roaming the streets, buying good food from the restaurants or visiting their families. And when they get back the Lieutenant will tell 'Aussler that we were fed, and then we will move on, and we will still be tres affamé."

"Very 'ungry," asked Peter, guessing at the French.

"Oui," snapped Louis. "Very 'ungry."

Unfortunately, Louis was right. Haussler returned with his guards about three hours later, and after briefly speaking to the SS Lieutenant, the Wehrmacht soldiers boarded the train again. And as the train's engine rumbled and chugged to a start, and they were leaving the station, the prisoners' stomachs rumbled with displeasure, once again denied just a little comfort from a soft piece of bread and a drop of water.

(1) Translation: Yes, yes, very hungry. Do you have any food, or even water?

**Yes, POWs did take trains just like people in the Holocaust. However, they were not packed in as tightly as Holocaust victims were.