“Captivity”

With a briefcase containing the most necessary utensils, the cane I always carried on the battlefield and accompanied by my beautiful Irish setter, I started on the bitter path of captivity.  The American brigadier general’s jeep brought my three officers and me to the command post of the American division commander, Lieutenant General Goh.  He was located in well-camouflaged tents far from the front.  Together with the officers of his staff we had a simple dinner in the tent.  Only a few words were exchanged.  Right after eating the journey continued via Chateaulin-Landerneau to Lesneven to headquarters of General Middleton.  We arrived late at night.  I was provided a small tent with a cot.  Guarded by 2 sentries with machine guns I soon fell into a deep sleep.  The next morning a soldier brought me water for washing.  I was taken to breakfast by a lieutenant colonel, who spoke fluent German.  I was received in a large, comfortably equipped trailer, by General Middleton, a man about my age, tall with thick slightly graying hair and an erect posture.  He received me correctly and politely.  The American lieutenant colonel served as interpreter.  General Middleton regretted having to meet me under these circumstances and gave me his frank recognition of the brave conduct of the occupiers of the Fortress Brest, especially for the incomparable bravery of the German paratroopers.  He thanked me for the excellent treatment received by the American POW’s by the Germans and for the good care given to the wounded.  Thereby he stressed that the German occupiers of Brest had adhered exactly to the terms of The Hague and Geneva Conventions.  In answer to his question about when I thought the war would end, I said that the Allies still had some heavy battles ahead.  Did I know the United States?  When I answered in the negative he said it would not be pleasant to get acquainted with a country as a prisoner there.  If I ever visited the United States after the war, he would be glad to have me as a guest on a hunt.  Could he fulfill any wish of mine?  I asked for good treatment of my soldiers while they were POW’s of the Americans and for permission to say farewell to my soldiers in the camp.  He promised me both.  Then he suggested that we be photographed together as a souvenir of this encounter.  This I could not refuse.

With polite, mutual [best] wishes we parted.  I had the feeling that I had spoken with a chivalrous, upright and brave man who consciously wanted to avoid humiliating me, the defeated one.  The very likeable American lieutenant colonel of the 8^th United States Army Corps took my three officers and me to the prison camp.  This lay near St. Theogonnec about 60 kilometers east of Brest.  The lieutenant colonel, tall, slender and blond with an intelligent, strong facial expression, about 30-35 years old, soon engaged me in an interesting conversation about the political situation of the time.

The German POW’s were in a large pasture whose hedges were reinforced with barbed-wire fences.  There were no tents or barracks.  For weeks the men lay in the open, in spite of the already very cool nights.  Immediately adjacent, only separated by a hedge, but specially blocked off by a high barbed-wire fence lay the officers.  There occurred hectic handshakes, greetings and farewells all at once.  Major Mehler asked me for a photo with my signature.  As I was handing it through the barbed-wire fence, with the permission of the lieutenant colonel, an American soldier who was an interpreter, tore the picture from me, supposedly to check on the greeting I had written on it.  The lieutenant colonel reprimanded him vigorously.