EXODUS FROM SAGAN

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The Sagan March (part of "The Long March)

 

When the Russians started getting too close from the East, the Germans decided to march us out. We began to get into shape for the exodus by marching around the compound. The guards left us alone as long as we stayed away from the warning line. If anyone were to step over the line, they could be shot. We received our orders to march on Saturday evening, January 28th, 1945. We were to leave early the next morning. At 4:00 AM Monday morning, we began the long trek to the next facility. Each man carried a bed roll with just bare essentials like clothing and toilet articles. We also carried a food sling containing one Red Cross food box. It was important to conserve the food because we didn’t know when (or if) we would get more during the march. We saved the meat, cheese, crackers, and d-bars for later.

 

We were in the midst of a snowstorm as we assembled with temperatures down to around 20 below. There was much confusion in organizing 1,700 men and the German personnel, and it took quite a while to finally get under way. It felt good to finally get moving, and I started feeling warmer as we marched cross country on the German roads. There was lots of drifting snow, and it made the going rough. We would walk for about 20 minutes and then rest for 10. As soon as we stopped, I could feel the cold overtaking my body. That first day we walked 17 kilometers to the town of Halbau. It was about noon when we arrived and most of the kriegies (derived from “Kriegesgefangenen” the German term for “prisoner of war”) were crowded into a church to spend the night. It was the first Sunday that I had been in a church for a long time. So far, everyone was okay – just cold feet. My shoes were simply regular dress shoes with ¼ inch rubber soles. The only insulation came from the two pairs of socks that I had on. It was so crowded some of the men slept on top of the crypts. We were given no German food, but we had water, and it was warm inside.

 

Early the next morning, we left Halbau and walked 16 km to a small village. The men were crowded into several small barns where we huddled together to keep warm. We pooled our blankets trying to stay warm. The men on the inside stayed comfortable, but the unfortunate ones on the outside got cold. We ended up resting, freezing, and being bored in the barns for a couple days. The reason for the delay, we later learned, was that the Commandant had sore feet from the walk. It seems that Brigadier General Vanaman, who was the senior American commanding officer of the POWs, was given the opportunity to have more comfortable accommodations but refused them opting instead to stay with the men. The Commandant felt obligated to show the same level of devotion and marched along with the POWs. For all their faults, the Germans always showed a great deal of respect for military rank. 

The march resumed on Wednesday, January 31st. We left the barns early and walked about 30 km. In the afternoon, the temperature got above freezing, and it made things seem a bit better. The day’s journey ended in a pottery plant in Muskau. This would be our home for the next two days. It was a working plant, and it was very warm inside from the kilns. It was great to finally be warm. Everyone was fine except for a lot of sore feet. We were given a ¼ loaf of bread per man, the first German food since the start of the march. The next day we were given another ¼ loaf along with a ½ pound of margarine per man. The margarine added flavor, not to mention some well needed calories, and I was spreading it on about a quarter inch thick. In the afternoon of our second day at the plant, about 90 men from west camp were added to the mix. They were in tough shape from their march. They covered the same distance as we did, but they did it all in one long day with just 6 hours of rest. There were no POW casualties, but one German guard died from a heart attack.

 

On Friday, February 2nd, we received orders to be ready to march with one hour notice. We all expected that we would resume the march early the next morning. We learned that our final destination would be Nurnberg near Munich. To get us ready to march, the Germans issued each man a cup of Barley soup, a block of margarine, and 1/5 of a Red Cross parcel. We cut cards to see who got what.

 

The next day we walked 18 kilometers to the town of Graustein and spent the night in a large barn. We were receiving German food on a pretty regular basis now. Lots of bread, bread, and more bread with margarine. Sunday morning marked one full week on the road. On Sunday, General Vanaman, Col. Spivey, and Col. Kennedy disappeared. No one knew where the Germans had taken them, and the rumors spread like wildfire. Some believed that they had been taken away to be shot. Their true fate wasn’t learned until after the war when I read that the men and their staff went to OKW headquarters in Berlin where all POW matters were handled. That same day we walked 7 kilometers to Spremberg. We were fed thin barley soup at Wehrmacht station and waited in a garage until the afternoon when we walked another 3 km and then loaded onto freight train box cars. We were jammed 50 men to a 40x8 cattle car. The term “40x8” was developed in WWI, and it meant the train car would hold 40 men or 8 horses. It was a miserable night on the train. It was too crowded to lie down and nobody got much sleep. The night dragged on into morning and then into the afternoon. It seemed like every time we would finally get moving, the train would stop again. Some of the men were getting sick which made the horrible conditions even worse. We received two days rations which amounted to 7/10 loaf of bread per man, and one can of German Corned Willy to be split among four men. Corned Willy was similar to our corned beef but very greasy and a quarter can was about all anyone could stomach.

 

Monday became Tuesday, and no one was getting much sleep. Because of that, more men were getting sick. A good friend of mine, Bob Moore, was taken to the hospital with pneumonia. We went through Chemnitz at night and saw Plauen and Nurnberg during the day. We were not aware of the atrocities in Nurnberg, and it was probably a good thing. 

Morale was at rock bottom. We rode on, mostly in silence, as the train chugged toward Munich. On Wednesday, after passing through Augsburg and Munich, we reached Moosburg where we finally got off the train. We were now close to Stalag 7A, the camp that would become our new home. We were herded into a temporary lager and packed 600 men to a building with straw covered dirt floors. The buildings were about the same size as our old barracks where just 40 men had been housed. Probably half the men were now sick with dysentery and diarrhea, and the overcrowding was sure to make the situation much worse. Unfortunately, I was now among the ailing half. My buddy (we had a buddy system), Al Palmerton, took care of me.

 

Despite the crowded conditions and a few episodes of heaving, I managed to a good night’s sleep. I was feeling better, but then Al became sick. It was now my turn to help him. The Germans told us that we would be moved the next day. They gave us rations with a soup that actually tasted pretty good. Friday saw most of the men sick and in bad shape. Fortunately, there had been no deaths yet. Al was better. We were given soup again that day, but this batch wasn’t fit for pigs. It was filthy. The Red Cross parcels that were given out in the afternoon were very welcome; however, we had to split one package between six men. We didn’t move Friday or Saturday. It was probably a good thing we didn’t go anywhere. The rest was much needed, and as a result the condition of the men began to improve. By this time, Al and I were almost 100% better, just a bit piqued and very peeved at the whole situation. The Germans moved a water boiler into our building the day before, and it was now working great. We had soup that tasted good. I tried hard to be thankful for the small things that made the unbearable situation more bearable.

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