Johann Baumberger

My mother died on February 27th, 1943 and I still could see her body.

In January 1945 a comrade from Vienna and me had to ship a unit of 30 Russians from Hemer (Germany) to Deutschkzeuz in the Burgenland where I was at home. The joy didn't take long because when we arrived, the papers of 5 prisoners didn't tune and we had to take the 5 prisoners along again. A air-raid warning started when we arrived at the south station in Vienna. The station burned, it was very noisy. In front of me, a sister of the red cross got off the train and her foot ragged in front of my eyes. I crept under the train and when it became a little more quiet I noticed, that also I was wounded by splinters. The wound at the left eye was sewn in the hospital. In the meantime my comrade and the 5 captured Russians helped with the removal of the injured persons. When the most action was over, we went to his apartment which was nearby the south station. My comrade was very sad because all doors and windows of his apartment were broken. He stayed at his relatives.

The next day I drove by train with the 5 Russians to Sarmingstein, to the direction where my native country was. My brothers and sisters and my father were very surprised to see me. My head was obliged, my coat full of blood, the gun on my shoulder and 5 Russians walked along in front of me. For the Russians we made a bed of straw and gave them food. 2 days later we drove to Hemer again. Nearby Münster we got attacked 3 times by 8 enemy planes. There where more than 100 casualties and many got hurt as well. The airmen shot with the 3rd attack at red cross vehicles and at coaches with injured persons. One of the 5 Russians lost his foot. Once again I had luck. In front of me, 1 meter away, the belly of a soldier was torn up, on the left and on the right the projectiles smashed, I prayed dying prayers at this moment. It was an inspiration or just luck but I crept under the train. I laid between the wheels until the attack was over. I arrived with 4 Russians at Hemer at 11 o'clock at night. The sarge handed me the message that in March 1945 my father died. The situation became more and more hopeless. At a transport to Remscheid we saw in the evening the shooting fire of the hostile artilleries coming from 3 sides. "How will be the future?", we asked each other. Are we coming home healthily or as a cripple? I went with my comrades to the church on the Easter holidays. I never forget the Good Friday of the year 1945. When we where in the church the hostile airmen bombed the town, it seemed as if the church would collapse. When the attack was over and we left the church, we saw the bombed houses not far away of the church. Some days later I should bring two US pilots to Kassel. In the last moment a sergeant had to drive this transport. After 3 stops hostile airman bombed the station of Fröndenberg. The sergeant lost a foot. I had luck once again. Certainly I would have escaped like him into the underpass. The area was shot by hostile artillery for 3 days, from April 12th to 14th 1945. There was no way out. The city of Hemer, with two hospitals and a large POW camp, was submitted unconditionally.

We came to the POW camp at Brilon in the Sauerland. It was winter and we lay in the snow on a pasture for cattles. At night we laid with 7-8 men narrowly at each other. After midnight the middle ones changed to the outside and otherwise to avoid not to freeze to death. The next camp we came in was Remagen at the Rhine. 400.000 men in one camp. It where terrible conditions. Nothing to eat for 2 or 3 days and we got to drink water out of the Rhine. We had to build a line in the morning to get ½ liters of water ("brown broth") in the evening. That ones who did not boil the water got diarrhea and had to die, in most cases in the ditch of the latrines. There were beautiful fruit plants at the Rhine, after some weeks, however, there was none anymore. We cut of the branches of the trees to be able to cook the water, 2 men cooked a potato in that water at the same time. 40 men got 1 kg of bread. I had no stool for 24 days, 7 weeks only once a week. Under these circumstances about 1000 prisoners died every week. Under these conditions, which continued very long, we were so weakened that we hardly could stand up and walk anymore. It is still in my memory that once I couldn't stand or walk any more. Fever broke out in the camp in the middle of May 1945. We were transferred to a new camp at Koblenz. When we arrived in the new camp, the clover was 15 cm high. We amassed and ate it. The wheat was a half meter and we pressed it down and were pleased that we didn't have to lie on the bare ground any more. The camp was submitted to the Frenchmen. Most prisoners were transported to France. I had luck and got dismissed by the medical certificate of a German doctor.

On August the 17th, on my birthday, I got the dismissal document and left the camp with a comrade of Losenstein. We were pleased as if we were reborn. With the train, a truck but mainly by feet we went to our native country.

Joyful and scared at the same time I reached my parental home on September 8th, 1945. When entering native soil I was full of joy and pressed some soil into my mouth. The night came when I entered the room. In front of me stood a strange woman with a child. She asked me who I am? I told her that I was the son of this house and asked for my brothers and sisters. Everyone was at work in the stable were we had a warm meeting.