Norway

When we docked at Christiansand Harbour, we were taken down to the dock under guard, and turned over to a Luftwaffe (Air Force0 officer and a soldier armed with a machine gun.
We were placed in the back seat of a Mercedes Benz car. It had beautiful grey leather upholstery and was probably the most luxurious car in which I had ever ridden. The offizer (German for officer) was a fine looking blond man in his early twenties, and was wearing a full length leather coat, grey in colour, which was a most elegant garment. They drove us a few to an Air Force station where we were taken into the mess (dining hall) and given bread and cheese and some coffee. All the time a guard was posted near with a machine gun

The mess was adjacent to a lounge where there were quite a number of officers relaxing. They kept looking at us and one brought in pictures of planes. He spoke English and came to the table, pointed to a picture of a Hampden plane and said, “This was the plane you were flying”. As our orders were to only give our name, our rank and our number, we made no recognition. I think that they were surprised that Hampden’s were dropping torpedoes. I believe that this was probably the first ship that had been sunk by a Hampden carrying torpedoes. Prior to mid-1942, Hampdens had been used on bomber command. After we had supper, we were once again taken to the railway station in the Mercedes, and ushered into a coach with wooden seats, guardedby two soldiers with their small machine guns. Several times that afternoon Germans had said, “For you, the war is over”. Quite true, in most cases, but a new life of a Prisoner of War(POW) was just beginning. We spent all night on the train with the wooden seats and arrived in Oslo just as it was getting light. All of us slept a little during the night, and our two guards took turns watching us from the seat opposite ours, with their guns at the ready. As we left the train station under guard, we walked across a street where the people were beginning to go to work. We were taken to a multi-storey white building and went up several floors in an elevator and were ushered into an office,where there were quite a number of German officers at desks and in offices. We were seated on a wooden settee and one of the most smartly dressed German officers that I had ever seen came over to talk to us. His uniform was very neat and he had knee boots which were so highly shined that they were just like a mirror. You could have used them to see yourself when you were shaving. I suppose his purpose was to get information from us. He told us that he had been a fighter pilot. During the last days of the battle of France in June 1940, he had been put on a boat to be taken back to Britain, but he jumped overboard and swam back to shore and had escaped. We tried not to tell anybody anything, but our Name, Rank and Number. I think we were fairly successful. A fat officer next questioned us, and about noon our guards took us down to the cafeteria in the building and were given a bowl of soup and some bread to eat along with a cup of (ersatz) substitute coffee. The coffee was terrible. It was rumoured that they made it out of acorns, but that may not have been true. I think that it was probably made from scorched grain the same as “Postum” was. After lunch our guards ushered us out to the front where a German army truck was waiting. The truck had a canvas canopy over metal pipes and only open at the back. They ushered the three of us around to the back and there sitting in the truck were two chaps from Squadron 455, which was an Australian squadron, also based at Leuchars Airdrome. As soon as they us they shouted, “Hey, what are you guys doing here”. None of us said anything because we weren’t supposed to let on we knew them, but when they spoke up it was too late. The one chap was an officer, Jeff Gunton, and the other was a Sergeant named, Doug Thomas. They had gone out on a bombing raid on the Friday night, and if I remember right, there were three planes, and they bombed installations in Tondheim Harbour. Jeff was piloting one of the planes and Squadron Leader Hurd was piloting another. The third plane got back. We were told to get in the truck and it took us down to the harbour in Oslo fiord. Then we were taken in a small boat over to a prison on an island in the fiord. We were put in a cell with single bunks in it and locked in. Some time in the evening a guard brought us a tall can of about 2 gallons, which was half full of boiled spaghetti. Just spaghetti, no sauce or anything. They also gave us a slice of black bread each. I remember that we were quite hungry and I ate the bread, but just couldn’t eat that spaghetti. However, Hugh seemed to be able to stand it and he ate quite a bit. This was my first night in a prison camp.