The anonymous note that Jim Dolmage received in December 2003 included a long newspaper clipping describing the battle at Tilly, its aftermath, and the experience of one of the prisoners taken there. There was nothing in the clipping to indicate the publication nor the subject of the interview, but Jim learned later that these were the recollections of Corporal John MacLean, in his words; and so we’ve transcribed them here. John is mistaken about the date as it was August 2nd this event happened.
Before the light of day on August 4, 1944, a patrol from another company had gone some distance into enemy territory and returned without contact. Later that same morning, before daylight, our patrol was sent into the same area. Evidently, the previous patrol had been spotted by the Germans. The Germans followed the patrol and moved in and set up machine gun positions. When our patrol came along, the Germans allowed the lead section to pass them unharmed before opening fire. At the same time the lead section had passed the German guns, we had received orders to return to our lines.
Before the light of day on August 4, 1944, a patrol from another company had gone some distance into enemy territory and returned without contact. Later that same morning, before daylight, our patrol was sent into the same area. Evidently, the previous patrol had been spotted by the Germans. The Germans followed the patrol and moved in and set up machine gun positions. When our patrol came along, the Germans allowed the lead section to pass them unharmed before opening fire. At the same time the lead section had passed the German guns, we had received orders to return to our lines.
I attempted to crawl to the position of the lead section and advise them of the order, when a hail of fire started, accompanied by mortar fire and flares. When daylight started to clear, I was within 50 feet of my platoon officer, Lt. Phair, who was mortally wounded. A German machine gunner was between us. I had pulled the pin from a grenade, before realizing what the situation was. It was not a pleasant meeting. I realized we were in a hopeless position and could do nothing but try to assist our wounded, and that our capture by the Germans was inevitable.
To the best of my memory, there was only myself and five other members of my platoon still mobile. We were busy helping the wounded. I just don’t know how many died that day.
Captured by Germans
Once the Germans captured us, we tried to take the wounded out of the area along with us. My comrades were in various stages of condition; that is, some had broken bones, others had worse wounds. Many of my comrades died from their wounds.
Lt. Phair, my commanding officer, was badly wounded. We tried our best to do something for him, but our captors were not too impressed with our efforts, and forced us away from the area. To my knowledge, Lt. Phair’s body was never found.
The Germans walked us for some distance, and when they had gathered sufficient POWs to fill a truckload, we were loaded aboard vehicles and taken deeper behind enemy lines. The Germans did everything in their power to get us to a railway as fast as they could.
Herded into boxcars
Somewhere around the second week of August 1944, I was herded into a 40-foot by 8-foot boxcar originally built to transport 40 men or 8 horses.
German guards gave us French ration bread that had a date from the 1930s stamped on it. I took a loaf of this bread and wrapped both my arms around the loaf, and could hardly break it apart. But under these harsh circumstances, anything is good when you’re hungry, even this bread was palatable. You did not eat it by choice, but you ate it. We were never given any water while travelling in the boxcar. We were given a five-gallon bucket for a toilet, and it had to serve for everyone in the boxcar.
There was just enough room so that each . . .
There is a gap in the transcript here, but it was likely a description of the notoriously crowded conditions in these boxcars. In practice, the Nazis often packed 50–70 prisoners into a single car. Usually, there was not enough room for everyone to sit at once, and prisoners had to take turns sitting or lying down while others stood.
. . . car. Our only gear was what we were wearing.
The badly wounded were separated from us. Only those fit for travel were boarded on the train. We were aboard the boxcar for around three days. One night some of my fellow POWs, while the train was still moving, escaped. They crawled out of a small window at the top of our railway car.
We had many delays on the rail line, mostly because the train was under attack by Allied fighter planes. At one point, we were taken off the train, because we were so badly shot up by friendly fire. Our engine was totally destroyed. Unfortunately for us, our railway boxcars were not marked on top, indicating that we POWs were aboard. The guys shooting up the train did not know we were aboard, but they sure destroyed our train. The Germans left the damaged train right there where it was hit and marched us off to a handy little town.
To the best of my memory, this French village wasn’t far from the German border. We were held over in that area for quite some time—somewhere between three and four weeks. We were put on another train and transported at night across the border into Germany.
Morgue for German casualties
I remember we were in a small town that had been attacked by Allied bombers. It wasn’t a very pleasant place to be after the bombing. Our German guards instructed us to look after the bodies of German casualties killed in the bombing. As a result we were placed in a very uncomfortable, inhumane, and hostile situation. We were being confronted by German civilians in the town, who did not want any Allied troops touching the bodies of their fallen countrymen. You couldn’t blame them.
While at the morgue, we were instructed to bury the bodies of the German dead. We got to the morgue, but the outraged local townspeople stopped us from doing the burials.
Cruel treatment of the Jewish community
The Germans moved us on to another town near a railway junction or intersection at which they said they were transporting refugees or enemies of the state. In fact, they were transporting Jews on their way to death camps.
I shall never forget this horrible scene and pitiful situation. The German S.S. troops were herding the Jews into a marshalling yard. One could tell by the look on the faces of many of the Jews that they were terrified and in absolute desperation.
I cannot help but think that they knew what was in store for them when they reached their destination. The Jews were waiting for a train to pick them up. Men, women, and children were being herded like animals and treated with great indignity. The memory of this incident shall be with me until my dying day. Whenever I see television programs about the Holocaust and the killing of six million Jews, my mind returns to that October day. A terrible example of man’s great inhumanity to man!
Stalag IV-B in Mühlberg
Between October and December 1944, I was moved from prison camp to prison camp. Just before Christmas 1944, I was imprisoned at Stalg IV-B in Mühlberg, Germany, not far from the Elbe River.
Stalag IV-B at Mühlberg, I believe, was not far from Torgau on the Elbe River. Torgau is about 28 miles north of Leipzig, where the American and Russian armies met each other on April 26, 1945. I was imprisoned at Stalag IV-B from December 1944 until around 26 April 1945.
Stalag IV-B had about 1,600 Allied POWs. There were army and air force prisoners, including a lot of English and Australian fellows.
While it is true that I cannot say we were mistreated, you sure knew that you were not living high at the Ritz Hotel. The only thing we had enough of was water. We didn’t have much by the way of facilities.
Two loafs of bread and a chunk of meat for 17 men
You never really got a meal at Stalag IV-B. Every 17 men got rations twice a week. Our ration was two loafs of bread and a block of meat that you could hold in the palm of your hand. Every day we could walk around in the daylight for exercise.
A week after I was released, I weighed 130 pounds, down from my 170 pounds prior to being captured. Our own officers were told that we were on a starvation diet. Some fellows could cope with the situation, while others could not. Thankfully, my health was good. The worst problem I had health-wise was a toothache. A French doctor came and pulled my tooth for me.
Christmas service
My POW experience made me think more. I guess, spiritually, one of the highlights for me was the Christmas service. The atmosphere at the service was overwhelming. There were people there from all the four corners of the Earth. The German camp commander seemed to have realized that the end was near. He was a retired officer and in the end we POWs saved him from capture by the Red Army.
Liberated by the Red Army
We watched the Russian army go by in full battle fashion, with everything from trucks to old horses. Some of our boys went with the Red Army to meet the Americans. When the column of Russians had passed by, we spewed out of the gates like ants. We had no luggage, not even a toothbrush. I was liberated on or near April 26, 1945.
After the war, John MacLean lived out the rest of his life in New Brunswick. Should anyone be able to identify the source of this newspaper article, we would welcome the chance to given them the appropriate credit for this interview.