LIFE
IN A POW CAMP
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"I've
always believed that the war robbed me of my youth but
gave me my manhood."
- Colonel Hal Cook, World War II POW
The
Battle of the Bulge removed thousands of Allied soldiers
from a war of bullets and thrust them into a war of attrition.
German POW camps were suddenly inundated with more prisoners
than could be adequately accommodated. Contrary to previous
procedure, they combined officers and enlisted men, as
well as POWs from different military branches.
"The
prisoners were of conflicting mental and physical states
at this point," explains Gregory Hoblit. "The
war was dragging on and America had just suffered a huge
setback. There were some willing to continue the fight
by harassing the guards. Others were exhausted and relieved
to be free from combat. They just wanted to survive."
The
overcrowding and subsequent forced retreats deeper into
Germany resulted in prisoners not receiving much-needed
Red Cross parcels. Necessary to supplement meager diets
of bread and soup, they contained items such as canned
meat, candy, coffee and scarce toiletries like soap and
razor blades.
Hart's
War set decorator Patrick Cassidy, whose father was an
Air Force general, acquired sample Red Cross kits from
the organization's museum in Switzerland, where he researched
life in the camps. "The Red Cross parcels were vital
to the POWs' physical and psychological well-being,"
says Cassidy. "Towards the end of the war they arrived
irregularly or were intercepted by guards, which made
the final months especially hard."
The
Russians never received Red Cross parcels, states British
Warrant Officer Andy Anderson, a POW from the Royal Air
Force. "We shared our German rations with them, but
their starvation was so great they retrieved the tins
we disposed of and licked them clean. How can one fathom
that kind of hunger?"
Upon
his arrival in Stalag 4B, Anderson had to exchange his
boots for a pair of wooden Dutch clogs. He received a
Red Cross kit containing soap, a shaving stick, toothpaste,
hairbrush and socks. Most weeks he received a parcel of
50 cigarettes, which were used as camp currency. Clothing
was worn a full week before they were allowed to be laundered.
The
guards themselves were also not immune from hardship.
Since all German men of suitable age and health were called
to arms, camp personnel were either too old, too young,
or wounded and physically unable to fight - children as
young as 13 and men in their 60s.
For
captors and captives alike, the focus was to somehow endure,
day after day, the deprivation and boredom. Standing head
counts, appels, were conducted at least once a day to
make sure no one was missing and to reinforce authority.
Anderson,
who consulted with filmmakers during pre-production, says
the appels were an irresistible chance to harass the guards.
"We
deliberately made it difficult for them by moving around
and getting out of line," he recalls. "Sometimes
the count of 200 men would take an hour. Who cared, we
had nowhere to go, nothing else to do."
He
believes his camp was probably better than most. A daily
loaf of bread was shared among five men, and there were
adequate huts available for classroom instruction and
stage productions. "One of the prisoners was escorted
to Berlin with an armed guard, and allowed to negotiate
a deal to exchange cigarettes for theater costumes,"
he says.
Disparity among the various camps was one of the things
that most intrigued set decorator Patrick Cassidy. "Sometimes
you might find Ping-Pong tables or phonographs,"
he says. "Some had mail service. There were some
with virtually no amenities at all. Generally the Luft
camps, for air force prisoners, were the most favorable."
Survival
rates of American POWs in Europe - 1,121 deaths among
93,941 captives, according to Charles Stenger of American
Ex-Prisoners of War - were much higher than in the Pacific
Theater. Nevertheless, the duress was extreme. Toward
the end, when Germany grew desperate and Hitler became
paranoid, the Nazi SS took over camp operations from the
military branches.
"Prisoners
went in weighing 180 pounds and left at 110 or 100,"
says production designer Lilly Kilvert. "They would
spend 12 hours a day in bed to conserve calories."
Despite
a loss of strength and energy, Allied captives often showed
remarkable resourcefulness.
"Among
these prisoners were engineers, architects, scientists,
and tradesmen," Kilvert says. "They were very
clever in devising ways to build things with no tools
or equipment. I read about their exploits with awe."
Colonel
Hal Cook, an American prisoner at Stalag Luft III, consulted
with Hart's War filmmakers on all aspects of camp life
and gave valuable input on the script. He attests to the
POWs ingenuity. "Some of the guys in my camp put
a radio together from all sorts of strange parts,"
he says. "I never saw it in one piece because they
disassembled it every time, but I know we garnered a lot
of information about what was going on outside from that
amazing thing."
The
76-year-old Cook's story is remarkable - yet not uncommon
among POW survivors. A B-24 bomber navigator, Cook was
shot down over Austria and forced to march in blizzard
conditions to various camps in Germany, causing his socks
to mold to his skin. He ended up at Stalag Luft III, 100
miles southeast of Berlin, near what was then the Polish
border.
"The
guards would not hesitate to shoot at us," recalls
Cook. "Security was tight because a few months earlier
76 British airmen had tunneled out in what became known
as 'The Great Escape.' Fifty were shot upon recapture."
Cook
says tight discipline was maintained in the camp by the
American commanding officer, a highly-respected Colonel
unafraid of confrontation.
"In
July 1944, very shortly after an attempt on Hitler's life,
the German officer gave the extended arm Nazi salute instead
of the customary military one. Our Colonel just stood
there - he refused to return the salute."
Cook
credits the commander with saving lives by insisting his
men exercise in the compound every day in anticipation
of being evacuated deeper into Germany as the Russian
Army advanced. He was correct. On January 28, 1945, Cook
and 12,000 other Allies were marched through snow and
freezing cold, "the worst experience of my life,"
into the interior of Germany. Though many died during
the ordeal, Cook credits the men's physical conditioning
with preventing more deaths, including his own.
Despite
losing 50 pounds during the ordeal, Cook managed, in the
closing weeks of the war, to escape to Switzerland. He
arrived in New York on May 29, 1945 - his 21st birthday.
"I've
always believed that the war robbed me of my youth but
gave me my manhood," Cook remarks. He is quick to
dismiss accolades for being a hero. "I'm just a survivor.
The heroes didn't come home," he says quietly.
After
visiting the site where he was once held, where only a
plaque now remains, Cook came to Prague to begin his work
on Hart's War. His wife was with him when he viewed the
film's POW set at Milovice.
"She
gained a greater understanding of what I went through
while walking around this camp than she did from all the
stories I told her over the years," Cook says. "
I was honored to be involved with this project, and have
been awfully pleased with Hoblit's attention to detail.
There's an overriding feeling of respect on his part about
what fellows like me went through, and it's been a privilege
to share my past with him and these young actors. It's
been a wonderful, touching experience at this end stage
of my life."