Free Twenty Days in the Reich by Tim Scott Page B

forces.
    We seemed to walk a fairly long distance that morning and although we heard no sirens, there were plenty of enemy aircraft around. We gathered that we must be reaching extremely countrified districts out of earshot of all warnings. The only incident of note occurred when a bad tempered
Luftwaffe
officer indicated in no uncertain manner, that he thought we ought to be shot; I think I can class this as one of the very few incidents in which a member of the Armed Forces appeared to show any disregard for our rights and privileges as POWs.
    It was once again a brilliantly fine sunny morning, making as far as we could recollect, about three weeks of fair weather over the whole of the continent. We already knew that the Allied air forces were taking full advantage of this weather. There is not the slightest doubt that had the conditions been any different, the slashing of communications would not have been carried out to the same extent, and the day of our ultimate release might have been put back for weeks, if not months.
    As we plodded down the road, we saw a lot of evidence that they expected the war to be coming this way pretty soon, for French POWs were busy in many parts, digging slit trenches and air-raid shelters in the banks at the side of the wood. All these fellows looked at us as we passed, at first suspiciously and then with many evident signs of welcome as they recognised our uniforms. We, for our part, knowing that we should not fraternise with them at all, merely contented ourselves with a brief smile, if we thought our guards were not looking. I did hear one story much later on, of a French POW who had had his head completely bashed in by a Nazi guard, merely because he had smiled at an American POW.
    It was well past 1 p.m. when we at length stopped for our midday meal. Our guards selected a pleasant little spot by the side of a cottage, a little way off the main road. Water was supplied in plenty, and the inhabitants of the cottage seemedvery friendly and quite anxious to show that they didn’t want the war and would be jolly glad when it was over. As was the case yesterday, we were able to indulge in a short nap after we had eaten. Later on, Jack, who had been missing with Karl for quite a time, came back and told us that he had been in the cottage and had been talking for a long time to its occupants. He said that one of their chief everyday pleasures was to listen to the news in German, broadcast from the British Isles.
    Once again, nobody appeared to be in any hurry to press on. In the late afternoon, we were invited into the back garden of the cottage and told we could wash if we wished, and even have a shave. Karl very kindly lent me his shaving tackle, which enabled me to manage successfully, although I am afraid that his blade could not have been a lot of good when I had finished.
    We had our tea and heard from Karl that it was proposed to spend the night in a ‘bus that had run off the road, a few hundred yards back from the cottage’. We thought that this might prove quite comfortable and even if chilly, ought at least to be reasonably clean and wholesome. Everything was proceeding peacefully and calmly until the approach of two officers of the Wehrmacht, who spoke volubly and at some length in a manner that appeared to cause a good deal of concern to our guards.
    Whether it was these officers or the fact that disquietening information had come over the 6p.m. broadcast (or possibly both) we did not know, but it was obvious that something was creating a sudden panic. I surmise now that this could only have been the news that General Patton’s Third Army had crossed the Rhine at Koblenz and were pressing on at great speed towards Frankfurt. We could not expect to be told these things of course (although it can be imagined how cheered we would have been), but it does seem to me now that the cause of all the excitement was Adolf’s sudden realisation that he was going to have to put on a very