Excerpt from Chapter 5:
My boss, Josef Kaiser, was actually quite sorry to see
me leave so I must have done a reasonably good job for
him. By mid-December after saying farewell to Mum and
Dad and a few friends I boarded the train to Gunzburg.
The realization that from then on my life depended
largely on what other people wanted me to do and ordered
me to do gave me something to think about. After
changing trains in Gunzburg I somehow came to grips with
my fate and started to feel a bit better. By the time we
approached Augsburg more young men joined the train and
one could tell by the suitcases what their destination
was. In Augsburg we were met by staff members from the
Arbeitsdienst garrison. A special train was waiting to
take us to our training barracks in Lager Lechfeld
We arrived at Furstenfeldbruck in the early afternoon
and were formed into some sort of order before marching
off in the direction of the barracks, under the critical
scrutiny of the 'reception committee' who constantly
reminded us what an undisciplined lot we were, but that
they would do their utmost to make real gemstones of us
within 6 months and we should be really grateful for
their trouble. I must say that helped a lot to boost our
moral which was already down to the lowest point, the
further away from home we got. It turned out to be a
long tiring march as the barracks were a fair way out of
town. Once inside the camp gate we lined up on the
parade ground for roll call and then were allocated our
quarters.
The camp comprised 3 rows of wooden huts for living, an
administration block, toilet and shower block, large
dining hut and kitchen and the guardhouse immediately
inside the gate. We reported to the quartermaster in the
admin blocks for our regulation outfit comprising boots,
two sets of foot rags (socks were not worn with
jackboots), two sets of underwear, dress uniform, drill
overalls and ceremonial spade, plus an overcoat and
sundry items to make camp life tolerable. All these were
handed out with complete disregard as to whether they
would ever fit. Most of us looked like circus clowns and
it took quite a few days running back to the
quartermaster for a right fit. Bed clothes and bedding
was strange - a hessian bag filled with straw which at
first glance we thought disgusting but it actually
turned out to be quite comfortable. They had to be made
up properly under the instruction of the Gruppenleiter
assigned to each group and after several attempts we
managed to get this task over reasonably well. We
finally had our first meal, late in the evening and then
turned in for the night, with lights off at 9 p.m.
The day began at 5.30 a.m., with a whistle blow. After a
quick breakfast, roll call and flag raising ceremony on
the parade ground with the whole Abteilung lined up in
neat rows -and where I thought we already looked
reasonably smart and disciplined - we were introduced to
our Group Leaders. Then we assembled in the dining room
for an address by the Abteilungs Commander, a
Oberst-Feldmeister and were told the reason we were
there which was mainly to build Flak positions all
around Munich, and since war conditions existed we were
under military discipline and jurisdiction. Back in our
quarters we packed our civilian clothes ready to be sent
home.
Settling into routine the time went quickly. The days
were long and laborious and we were always ready for bed
after the day's gruelling events and welcomed lights out
at 9 o'clock. Rude awakening came again at 5.30 a.m.
from the duty officer's whistle when the whole troop had
to be on the parade ground by 5.35 sharp regardless of
weather conditions, and being winter there was plenty of
snow and ice about. We were led on a brisk run out of
the camp, through bushes with low-hanging snow-covered
branches which hit the last trace of sleep from the
body. Back in camp a quick shower and breakfast at 6.30
a.m. and we were then ready for whatever the day had in
store. The mornings were usually taken up by parade
ground drill and in the afternoons field work training
with practical instructions of a technical nature, such
as how to construct small timber buildings, little
bridges, defence structures, and demolition work. Since
practically all trades were represented in our outfit we
were soon able to form expert and efficient working
groups who could do almost anything required of us.
Mealtimes followed a strict ritual. Tables were set with
white cloths, with one table on an elevated platform at
the front of the dining room reserved for the commander
and staff officers. The food was served at the table by
kitchen staff, with no special treatment or food for
ranks. We all stood to attention until the commander and
his officers arrived and only after the CO wished us
'guten Appetit' did we sit down and begin eating, with
no conversation and no noise of knives and forks on the
plate. The slightest misdeed could find one dismissed
from the room. (How it reminded me of boarding school).
Nobody was allowed to leave his place on the table or
speak until the CO finished his meal and stood up. The
food was pretty good and quite plentiful.
By the end of January 1941 we packed our gear and our
whole Abteilung was transferred to a new camp at
Munchen-Pasing and since quite a lot of us came from the
Munich area it was quite a welcome move as they
anticipated visiting their parents on weekend leave
passes, but as it turned out not many were issued. The
march to our new quarters from the Pasing station took
about 3/4 hour, with full pack and spade and I remember
it as being very painful because one of my knees was
swollen from an encounter with a low hanging tree branch
on the previous morning's `pleasure' run. I could hardly
put one foot in front of the other. However, by sheer
will-power I forced myself to keep in step with the unit
but every time my foot touched the ground I could have
screamed. I was mighty glad when we reached our new
quarters, and as soon as we were allocated sleeping
arrangements I crawled to the top bunk, lay down and
remained there until next morning's whistle. The amazing
thing was that by morning the swelling had disappeared,
together with the pain.
Whilst in Pasing, I managed to get my first weekend home
leave and a lot of effort had to be put into obtaining
such a pass. The uniform had to be spotlessly clean and
properly pressed, boots had to shine and be polished
under the sole as well, and prior to walking through the
gate all leave personnel had to line up for close
inspection by the officer of the guard to decide whether
we were clean enough to meet our parents. We stood to
attention with mouth open and hands outstretched for him
to see that the teeth were cleaned, and the finger nails
had no black borders. A clean comb and neatly pressed
handkerchief was a must in the pocket (and not the
cellophane packet today's young are exhorted to
carry)...
By the time I reached the station on that Friday evening
my train had gone and I was left with a 2 hour wait for
the next which caused me to miss the connection from
Gunzburg to Krumbach. When I finally arrived in Gunzburg
the choice was either to wait to Saturday morning or
walk home, some 30 km. I decided to walk and arrived
home just after midnight. After a sleep half Saturday
was gone and so was the weekend, after looking up a few
acquaintances. I learned that my friend Anderl had been
called up for his six months' duty somewhere North. I
took the Sunday midday train in order to get my
connection in Gunzburg and be back in camp by the
midnight deadline so it wasn't much of a leave. The
penalty for overstepping the deadline was three days
locked up with bread and water. The locking up would
have been quite relaxing but missing out on the good
food would have been unbearable.
Our job was constructing flak positions all around
Munich, so each morning after breakfast we were detailed
into working groups and trucked out to various building
sites. As most of the gun positions had to be dug deep
into the ground it was pick axe and shovels for the less
qualified. The more interesting work like erecting crew
quarters and store huts was delegated to the tradesmen.
There was an excellent team spirit amongst all of us,
with the group leaders joining in the hard work,
disregarding rank, and at the same time maintaining a
high standard of safety. Although those leaders could
and did wipe the floor with everyone of us on the parade
ground we didn't mind that because we knew they stood by
us on the working sites.
One occasion I particularly remember was when we were
erecting a large prefabricated hut, a rather urgent job,
so every available hand was put on it to speed up the
process and finish on time, skipping a few safety
regulations in doing so. I was working with an axe on
top of the roof, whilst others below were already
putting in the ceiling when, in my haste, I misjudged my
step and went straight through between two rafters and
the ceiling. On the way down I managed to hold on to one
of the rafters with my free hand, the other still
holding the axe and was just trying to figure out a safe
way to drop to the floor when our group leader Haddek,
who was standing below, ordered me to stay suspended. He
then called together everybody around and, pointing at
me desperately trying to maintain my grip on the
rafters, delivered a lecture on safety. In fact he
pointed out how safety conscious I had proved to be by
hanging on to the rafter and not dropping the axe! I was
unaware I was still holding the damn thing which I could
have dropped on his head. He then allowed me to drop
with the reminder to be more careful next time.
Our stay in Pasing was short. Once again we were ordered
to pack our belongings and move camp. After a brisk 2
1/2 hours march we arrived at our new quarters in
Forstenried, a south-western suburb of Munich, in the
middle of the Forstenried nature park, which stretches
right down to the Starnberg lake. It was a newly built
camp in a glade with the dense forest all round and
about 2 km off the main road to Starnberg. With only the
spade to carry, the march was more like a Sunday
afternoon's outing, all our luggage having been sent
ahead. Once in camp there wasn't much time for settling
in as all fieldwork had priority. Our outfit comprised
three 'Zuge', (a Zug was the equivalent of a platoon in
Army terms), with two of three working out of the camp
every day. The Zug which happened to be on camp duty was
never idle either. The mornings were usually taken up by
drill-yard exercises and the afternoons set aside for
cleaning and scrubbing and whatever was necessary to
keep the camp in immaculate condition. Guard duty at the
main gate also had to be maintained.
Since we didn't carry arms the guard duty was mainly
ceremonial though could be quite an experience. The
guard- house had no furniture, just an elevated wooden
platform for the off-duty guards to stretch out on but
not fall asleep. There was no telephone, no heating and
the only weapon was the ceremonial spade. Guard duty
during blackout hours was not the most pleasant,
especially for inexperienced youngsters like us,
although one would never admit to being frightened at
midnight in the middle of the darkest forest. Standing
alone outside the gate the imagination worked overtime,
especially when sets of beady eyes stared at one and all
sorts of dark shapes lurked behind the trees and only
when one realized those eyes were an inquisitive deer or
wild boar did the fear lessen. It was always a relief to
hand over the watch and get inside and flop on the hard
wooden boards.
The best period was in the early morning from 4-6 a.m.
when it was gradually getting daylight and the trees
became trees again, not grotesque monsters, and the
moving objects could be recognized as animals. The
kitchen was immediately behind the guardhouse and the
cook and his staff started work around 5 o'clock so the
guard began to feel brave again. The highlight of that
watch was at 5.30 when almost to the minute a wild pig
with six or seven striped piglets appeared at the gate
and mother pig led her offsprings to the kitchen door in
single file for a good slurp of the food scraps put out
by the staff. The piglets always ate first whilst mother
kept a watchful eye and then when she had cleaned up the
dishes they disappeared through the gate and back into
the park.
After that camp duty week, which for some inexplicable
reason was called 'Restweek', the Zug was ready for two
weeks' fieldwork again, which was much more enjoyable
even though we were back in camp every evening and
chased around the parade ground for half an hour.
'Working up an appetite', they called it, making out we
didn't do anything all day. We were occasionally allowed
to go into Munich for the evening but most of the time
it was a wasted effort as we had to be back by 10 p.m.
The working sites further out of town were preferable to
us since this meant we had to be billeted out. I
remember one construction job near Erding, north-east of
Munich when we were housed in a youth hostel for two
weeks which meant staying over the weekend when a dance
evening was organized for Sunday night. This was very
exciting and the prospect of meeting some of Erding's
'exotic flowers' was promising indeed. Actually it
turned out to be a very tame affair - all the boys on
one side and all the girls, with their mothers, on the
other - and to dance with one of those tightly guarded
roses, one first had to ask Mother's permission.
Depending on her likes or dislikes, Mum's decision was
final, with no complaint and no back chat. Anyhow, by
10p.m. it was packing up time when all the little 'Fruuleins'
were rounded up and marshalled home. Shades of our
visiting pig with her piglets! Since all youth hostels
were alcohol free, with lemonade and soda water the
strongest drinks one could possibly have, we certainly
didn't suffer from hangovers the next morning.
As time went on and the work program was speeded up we
had very little opportunity to see much of Munich's
night life. Time was always too short, with the
exception of a few Saturday afternoons and evenings.
However, summer was approaching and lake Starnberg was
not too far away so we took a liking to a day out on the
lake. Early one Sunday morning three of us, Hans, Alfred
and I set off for a two-hour walk through the park to
Starnberg. Having arrived in good time and refreshed by
a good 'Fruhschoppen' [morning beer] on the promenade,
we hired one of the rowing boats tied up to the pier.
After tossing around in a few involuntary circles we
managed to get out into the lake and since none of us
had any experience in the art of rowing we had some
difficulty keeping the boat on a proper course and as
there were lots of other boats around we soon collided
with one of them. I must admit, the occupants of that
craft were better mariners than us - and much better
looking - (three girls!). They tried unsuccessfully to
show us the basics of rowing but, having realized the
futility of that, they decided to take us in tow, with
them doing the hard work. Back on shore we showed our
appreciation by treating them to coffee and a generous
helping of 'Kuchen', then it was time for the last bus
to take us back to Munich. We had quite an enjoyable day
but as usual all too short so we decided to meet again
the following Sunday for another rowing lesson - only to
discover that all leave was cancelled for that
week-end...
Towards the end of May I managed to get another home
leave. One Friday afternoon we were told to get ready
for inspection by 3 o' clock. As this was unexpected
this announcement was followed by frantic activity,
washing, cleaning and pressing uniforms. Finally we
lined up for scrutiny by Feldmeister Klein, the usual
outstretched hands looking for traces of dirt under
fingernails, exposing molars, no shades of grime or wax
in the ears. When he looked into my mouth he actually
remarked for everybody to hear how much effort I had put
into cleaning my choppers. The truth was in all the
hurry I hadn't bothered to clean them at all, whereas
with Alfred, standing next to me, who was a pastry cook
by trade, cleanliness and grooming was paramount and
brushing his teeth an obsession. Klein was horrified
when he looked down his throat and told him to go and
clean his teeth! I couldn't help grinning, which was
noticed by Klein so I got a lecture on 'Schadenfreude'
and was sent off to clean my boots again.
'Schadenfreude' is malicious delight in somebody else's
misfortune.-- Dennis Norton from the radio serial 'My
Word' said Schadenfreude was the pleasure you got seeing
somebody step on his bike, where, unknown to him,
somebody has removed the saddle!-- Well, eventually we
were off to catch our trains.
Two weeks later, Sunday, June 22 we were informed German
troops had crossed into Russia at 4.15 a.m. Operation
'Barbarossa' was in full swing. Our work schedule was
stepped up as all flak installations had to be finished
as quickly as possible to be handed over to the
Luftwaffe for installation of the big 8.8 anti aircraft
guns. My 19th birthday came and went and my term with
the labour corps came to an end. We had one more weekend
home leave, mainly to collect our civilian clothes. The
management gave us a nice passing out party with a
bottle of beer each and a moving farewell speech by the
Oberstfeldmeister, the leader of the Abteilung, telling
us how much he enjoyed working with us and how his
effort was rewarded in making men of us. He wished us
all the best for our futures and hoped for our sakes
that the war would be over as quickly as possible so
that we could all go home and enjoy peace again. We were
a bit sad as we had had a really good time, good
teamwork and excellent comradeship. Feldmeister Klein
shook hands with everyone as did the rest of the staff.
But we left the camp knowing our civilian life would be
very short. Indeed we all knew we would shortly be
fitted for a different uniform... .