Christmas 1941- 1942

Rommel was in rushed, though orderly retreat. His supplies in chaos, he was within a few days of surrendering many of his POWs, when fresh supplies arrived. So Eric had to come to terms with his captivity, in his own phrase they were 'kicked' around the desert for a while. Back home, Eric's father, Edgar Crosswaite was unaware what had happened to his son who he had not seen for the best part of three years. The Army could provide little hope, and he was sent the forlorn "missing in action" telegram every parent feared. For months nothing was heard of Eric's whereabouts, and it was around 6 months before Edgar received a Prisoner of War notification; reassuringly certain, if unhappy news.

As for Eric himself, in the meantime he had been taken to Benghazi on the Libyan coast, from where they appeared to be heading for Italy on board (an ex-British) ship called 'Thesius'. The ship was sunk off the Greek coast near Piraeus, and many POWs drowned, Eric remembers seeing some men jumping overboard with their boots strung around their neck hardly the right place for them as they were strangled in the fall. The surviving POWS including Eric, swam ashore only to be greeted at gunpoint on the beaches. The mid-winter months of Greece were spent in cramped and unsavoury conditions, in an old wood mill with around 400 others and then in an open field, 'dysentry acre' and he refers to it, with many of the POWs being Australians.

Eventually, the POWs were taken to Italy, arriving at the port of Brindisi, then walked up to Bari, being the targets for all manner of rotten vegetables, and figs on the way. Then he found himself at a large POW camp at Gravina di Puglia in Southern Italy. Here, with his strange Turkish slippers, the only footwear available, he must have looked quite a sight!
Whilst at Gravina, Eric saw the worst effects of captivity, as strong men fell into a deep depression and gave up. To get away from such moribund sentiment, Eric decided the best thing was to try and go somewhere else.He volunteered to be sent to PG Campo 21, Chieti in the North east of Italy, near Pescara. Sent to work at this officers' camp with around 1,700 prisoners, he refused to do the 'lacky work' for the imprisoned officers. By the Geneva Convention COs were not allowed to work, unlike their less fortunate NCOs who were often pressed into service. His refusal resulted in confinement, though his Italian guards eventually tired of this and Eric went down into the town with them, happy to accept their hospitality. After the punishment, he was put in charge of the pleasant-sounding de-lousing machine, which he describes as a cushy job with the officers doing all the work, putting their clothes in to the machine.

1942 gave way to 1943, and Eric had not seen home for nearly four years. The new year saw the beginnings of a correspondence between the 23 year old Crosswaite, and a 19 year old war worker, Ethel Coates who was busily helping the war effort making tyres at Todmorden, living with Mrs. Meades and her family at Blackshaw Street near the Canal. She too was living away from her family, and had just lost her father, Jarvis Coates. The correspondence began with a simple, small blue card, but thankfully (for this writer at least) developed into much more.

Eric 'settled' if that is the appropriate word into camp life at Chieti. He was on good terms with most of the Italians, many of whom had little time for the Fascist war in which their country was embroiled.This enabled him to get things when needed, and to help towards making escapes. In this regard, he remembers a couple of two tunnels that were dug there. One under the containers in the cookhouse which was unfortunately discovered, and also a story of a successful tunnel which had gotten 20 yards beyond the camp wall after 3 months work before it had the misfortune to hit a sewer. According to Eric, the unfortunate digger at the time, a small man, had swallowed half a bucket load of the sewer's contents and was a little green as a result. Suffice to say he was given a wide berth.

Amongst the Italians there was one 'Caparelli' in particular who got on well with "crowtchy" he called Eric. Together on the delousing machine detail, Eric gave him advice on how to cope when he was called up for the desert. Another good friend he had there was a Mr. Spendlove from Platts Common (now deceased). The two of them, clearly unmoved by the camp's Allied Australian 'commander' walked by his window shouting "Who are you?". Apart from keeping his spirits up, he tried to stay physically active. He took an active part in sporting events, including softball and football. Many famous sportsmen and performers had found their way to Chieti. Cricketers such as Freddie Brown (1910-1991, later MBE) of Surrey and England; Harold Beaumont (1916- ) and Bill Bowes (1908-87) both of Yorkshire, and performers like Tommy Sampson and his band. In his autobiography of those times, Express Deliveries, Bill (William Eric) Bowes sums up life at Chieti:

'By September 1943 the prison cage at Chieti was a well-organised township with as many sporting, social and educational services as a free city.'(p.139)

In a passing note, Eric remembers playing a game of softball against Bowes and having the satisfaction of catching him out.

Also by September 1943, the tide was beginning to turn in favour of the Allies, with the North African expeditions leading the British and US Allies slowly but inexorably northwards to Sicily and soon to the mainland.The Italians saw which way the wind was blowing and sued for an armistice. The uncertain period that followed was called the Imbroglio and represented a unique opportunity for many POWs to escape as their Italian guards abandoned their posts. Such was the case at Chieti. Indeed, on old Italian, a friend of Eric had asked him to go with him before the Germans came. Going to seek permission from the Camp Commander, he was told that they were in a state of Martial Law and as such everyone should remain where they were. The actions of the senior officer later drew much criticism from the POWs present, not least Larry Allen, an Associated Press correspondent captured from HMS Sikh in Sept. 1942. According to Foot and Langley's 'MI9 Escape and Evasion 1939-1945', the AP correspondent 'protested when he got back to the U.S. that Colonel Marshall, the senior British officer in the huge camp PG 21 at Chieti had been too strict and that the War Office's orders had been too inflexible' (pp.161-2). No sooner had the Italians left, than the Germans rushed to fill the vacuum, surrounding the camp early one morning.

Rapidly Chieti was emptied to a smaller camp at Sulmona, where Eric managed to play a little football with Alf and Billy Stevens who later played for Leeds, before all the POWs were 'thence unceremoniously bundled into trains for Germany'.(MI9,p.167). Foot and Langley mention the case of Captain Jock Short, a soldier who tried to make a run for it at Sulmona train station; he was instantly taken down, riddled with bullets. The rest were packed into wagons and sent north. At least one man, Major S.I. Derry, jumped from the train and escaped.

The move from Italy to Germany, marked the last, but not the least stage of Eric's period of captivity. Stopping off in Munich during an air raid, the POWs who were crammed 15 and more into wagons, were taken to the vast detention camp, Stalag 344 (formerly VIIIB) at Lamsdorf, (now Lambinowice in Poland). The camp was huge, surrounded by four walls of barbed wire, holding around 17,000 in overcrowded barracks of 180 men on three-tier bunks. He hated conditions in the camp and tried to get away as often as possible, but he received some comforts: the Red Cross food parcels are almost legendary, and he still managed to get some mail, including a wonderful photograph of Ethel Coates the young war-worker who, at Edgar's urging, had started a correspondence with an unseen POW hundreds of miles away.

In the confusing administrative pedantry for which the Third Reich became known, Kriegsgefange Eric Crosswaite was only number 33862, sent from place to place, from transit camp to Arbeitskommando where he was expected to work. In some cases, he tried to show he contempt by rebelling.When a German officer's questioning revealed that Eric was from a mining area, he was sent to a mine at Blechhammer. But Eric certainly had no intention of going underground like his father and grandfather had before him. Instead, he went 'on strike', standing defiantly at the pit head and, despite the odd rifle butt, he survived the week and was sent elsewhere. At one point he volunteered for a forestry job, and deliberately cut down all the wrong unmarked trees, for which he received 14 days punishment. Eventually, after much moving around and jobs ranging from loading railway wagons to working in a Polish sand-pit, he was sent to Grulich(now Králíky)on the Czech-Polish border on the edge of the old Sudetenland in the Silesian area of central Europe.

He spent Christmas 1944 at Grulich, and one of the men there made little Christmas cards to record their stay (Eric still has his). It was also in and around Grulich that he was to spend what remained of 1944-5. Whilst there, he went to work in the pre-war Czech fortifications where he worked with some Italians. Later he worked for a local builders run by a Mr. Arbik Ubner, who spoke little English. This work often took him out of the Grulich camp which was on a hill above the town itself. Along with a young German, he was sent out delivering building supplies to various places, both near and far. In particular and quite memorably, his deliveries took him to a camp at Oscwiecim, otherwise known as the horrific Auschwitz concentration camp.

At the time of D-Day, Eric was helping to construct the wall of a factory, known as Famo at a place a short rail journey away from Grulich, known as Weiswasser. Upon hearing the news of the Allied landings, the POWs immediately pushed down the wall they had just built. It was now clear, even to the most die-hard of Nazis that the Third Reich was starting to collapse. Just before the end came in May 1945, Eric, and a friend decided to escape.

A submariner captured from HMS Tempest at the Battle of Taranto, George Unsworth, from Bolton, Lancs had shared the same hut as Eric and they were desperate to get away. One night, they climbed the camp's fence and ran away, heading westwards. At the same time the Russian advance was driving onwards towards their position. Tired, the two escapees had taken shelter at a friendly farmhouse not far away. Early in the morning they heard the rumble of nearby tanks. It was the Russians. Apparently unsure of what to do with their comrades, George and Eric were treated very cautiously, as Eric puts it "it was touch and go as to whether they bumped us off or what the hell they did with us".

Put into one of the convoy of tanks, the Russians headed onto the Czech capital, Prague, where they holed up at a large house. Taking his chances, Eric fled the house and kept running. Finding himself in Wencesslass Square, by a strange twist of fate, he bumped into a familiar face: that of the hairdresser who had been at Lamsdorf and Grulich. Now a determined Czech national, the young 20 year old? man helped guide them to the Czech partisans, who called on his services to try and repair a gun, but unfortunately without a firing pin, there wasn't much Eric could do to fix it. Whilst he was with them, they showed him some of the atrocities that the retreating Germans had carried out on their countrymen. It seems to have left quite a strong impression on the 25 year old soldier. With the help of the Czech friend (see ID card photo), Eric went to Pilsen and Regensberg, at one of which they ran into the on-coming Americans, amongst whom was none other than Jackie Cooper, the American film star. The US troops were unsure at first just what to make of the ragged former POWs. A good place to start was to feed them! Opening the door to a dining area, Eric saw a wonderful sight - real white bread after months of putting up with ersatz rubbish or nothing at all. At last they now seemed safe. But they still had to get home. The Americans arranged for them to board a plane heading for Reims in Northern France, and then from there he was able to board a Lancaster bomber which flew him home over the channel- the first time he'd seen England since 1939!

They landed at Wing in Bucks, and as soon as he was allowed, Eric rushed up to Yorkshire, and then home, past Mrs. Burgin's shop to 11 Headlands Rd, where his father, Edgar, who had written and sent photos throughout his captivity, was surprised to see his return. The utter euphoria of late May 1945, with VE and soon VJ day to celebrate, also brought about a marriage. After first seeing each other again at Wakefield station, Eric Crosswaite and Ethel Coates were married at Barnsley Register Office on 18th June 1945. They had to have a special licence to allow Eric to receive leave from the Army, but over the coming months, his determination (and charming abandon as I like to think of it) meant that he enjoyed several prolonged absences with and without leave. Many of these led to narrow scrapes, petrifying Ethel and testing the fitness of the local MP.

The end of the war did not mean the end of Eric's duty. In October 1938 he had voluntarily enlisted, he was not conscripted, as such he had to see out his service, both active and on reserve. Just after the war he continued his participation in sports, once playing in a Lincoln City line-up and continuing to stay active. At the same time he was beginning the long path to civilian life, starting a family with the birth of their son Eric in January 1947; Denise followed in 1949, (her name coming from that of a thoroughbred winner for Eric) and now life appeared to be settling down, though appearances were deceptive.

The bipolar global politics of East and West were just establishing themselves and the 'Cold War' had begun, and with it the first real test of the UN: Korea. The north of the country was communist-backed and the south Western-backed. The UN-sanctioned intervention that followed led to the call up of reserves, Eric amongst them. However, the intervening years had taken a physical toll. In a football match playing for his steel factory team, he fell and shattered his elbow. His bone was very seriously damaged, but his impatience with doctors and dentists once again flared up, and although he was on sick leave for quite some time, he probably ought to have been the hospital more often. Anyway, despite that, or rather because of it, his call-up for Korea fell through. Having gone down to Piper's Wood in Bury St. Edmunds to join what would have been the Royal Northumberland Fusiliers, he saw a familiar face, a certain Mr. Holmes. Major Holmes now to be precise; he'd last seen him as a Captain at Chieti and seemed to think that Eric was the man for the job, but (un)fortunately it was not to be and, happily Eric was soon home and safe. Finally by the mid 50s Eric's de-mobilisation papers came through, and he happily returned to civilian life as an over-worked under-paid swing grinder on a harsh three shift system at Samuel Fox's at Stocksbridge. The steel industry would be his career until he retired in 1984, free at last the enjoy the leisure and the peace that he, along with so many others had fought, worked hard and devoutly hoped to bring about.