Friday, 16 October 2009

The Patrick Dudgeon story: an update

Each year, pupils in the Fifth and Sixth forms at Oundle School are encouraged to apply for bursaries which will help them undertake an expedition and challenge themselves to try something new during their school holidays. Whether physically or intellectually challenging (and, in most cases, both), these awards were created by many benefactors and the journeys they inspire help to keep a sense of adventure alive.

The oldest and most prestigious of these is the Dudgeon Award, presented at Speech Day, and funded in memory of Patrick Dudgeon, a former pupil who was a member of St Anthony House from 1934 to 1938. He was captured in Italy while on a secret mission, and before his execution was described by the German who interviewed him as “the bravest of English officers I met in all my life.”

Above: Major Patrick Dudgeon MC



Right: St Anthony House on Oundle's Milton Road

Patrick Dudgeon had joined the Royal Corps of Signals at the outbreak of war, and won the Military Cross for ‘gallant and distinguished service in the field.’ Later he was engaged on various secret and dangerous missions by submarine and air in North Africa while serving with the Special Air Service Regiment.

Operation ‘Speedwell’ was Patrick Dudgeon's last mission. The plan was to reduce the rate of German reinforcements to the south of Italy by attacking rail communications between Genoa and Spezia, Bologna and Pistoia, Bologna and Prato, and Florence and Arezzo. Had the operation been properly supported in terms of aircraft and supplies, it has been argued, the strategic advantage gained would have been immense.

On 7 September 1943, two aircraft took off from North Africa carrying two groups of SAS men. By midnight they had landed successfully in the mountains north of Spezia, some hundreds of miles behind the German lines. Patrick Dudgeon set off with his six men to attack the Genoa-Spezia railway. Two members of his group succeeded in blowing up two trains on the Spezia-Bologna line, and finally made their way back to British lines. Patrick Dudgeon, with fellow-soldier Trooper Brunt, then ambushed a German amphibian and succeeded in killing a number of the enemy before being captured near Parma.

It was clear to the Germans from the explosives he was carrying that Patrick Dudgeon had been hoping to reach a further objective, but nothing could make him give any information about the target. In the presence of his staff the German General responsible for the interrogation expressed admiration for the British officer's courage, but gave the order for him and his companion to be shot the next morning on Hitler's orders.



News of Patrick Dudgeon’s capture and death came after the war in the form of the following letter to his father from Victor Schmit, the German army lieutenant who had acted as interpreter at his interrogation
Left: Victor Schmit in 1943



Luxembourg

May 11 1945.

Dear Sir,
By this letter I fulfil my word pledged to the bravest of English officers I met in all my life. This officer is your son, Captain Dudgeon, who fell for his country in Italy on October 3rd 1943. Before he died I had to promise him to give you information about the circumstances and the spot he was buried.

I was at that time a platoon commander in the 65th Infantry Division of the Germans. My unit lay in the Passo della Cisa about 30 miles west of Parma on the road Parma – La Spezia.

About 0100 o’clock a.m. I was wakened by my men who told me they had captured two English soldiers driving in the direction of Parma, their clothes were smeared with blood, in their bags they had about 40 pounds of explosives. I went down and found in the Guard Room two English soldiers, one of whom a captain. When I asked who they were they gave me their military cards. I reported to the Coy. Comdr. and later to the Division. The Divisional Officer on duty told me that half an hour ago a German Sgt and a private driving towards La Spezia had been shot and the car stolen.

This having happened several hundred miles behind the lines and the two soldiers carrying explosives they had to be treated as Greischarler (? Freischarler) and would probably be shot.

The battalion commander who had arrived in the meantime tried to get out of your son anything about his purposes, where he was coming from etc.etc., I being the interpreter. When the German insisted your son asked me to translate “If you were my prisoner should you betray your country talking about your mission?”

Upon this my captain told him that probably he had to be shot by an existing order of the Fuhrer. Captain Dudgeon took the news, answering something like this - “All right I’ll die for my country”.

When my captain had withdrawn I sat beside your son on the straw and we were speaking together all night long. He told me he knew little of Germany, that he had been during his holidays to Switzerland etc.

In the morning the Divisional Commander, General Von Zielberg, informed the Bn. That he would come and see the English captain before he was to be shot. I told him (your son) that the German officers were scandalized that an enemy who had behaved in so brilliant a manner had to be shot but were mightless against an order of the Fuhrer. To me the behaviour of the young officer of 23 years old had made such an impression that I couldn’t help telling him when we were alone “Your country may be proud of you. If you were not my enemy I should ask you to be my friend”. Captain Dudgeon gave me his hand saying “I thank you for telling me that”.

Page 2.


The interview with the General was quite resultless. At the end of it (all German officers were present) the General told me to translate to your son the following sentence –
“Sagen Sie ihm dass ich vor Seinen Haltung alle Achtung habe. Er wird, mit seinen Kameraden in einer Stunde erschossen.”

Your son saluted militarily and left the General. He asked me to stay with him until it would be over. He gave me your address asking me to inform you. He asked for a protestant priest. Before he died he asked to die with free hands and open eyes. He knelt down for a short while praying with his hands in front of his face.

Then he got up and died like a hero.

I wasnot allowed to give you notice of your son’s death by way of the Red Cross as the enemy was to have no information whatever regarding the efficiency of the parachutists. So I had to wait and keep the address hidden up to now. The grave of Captain Dudgeon is 200 metres South West of the Chapel on the Passo della Cisa going in the direction of La Spezia, 100 metres behind the last of the buildings.

I am, Yours sincerely,

Victor Schmit,

C/o Veura Schmit - Zoller
HOSTERT
pris de Luxembourg

Right: Victor Schmit with his grandson Rodrigo Quiroga Schmit in 1966
I am grateful to Rodrigo Quiroga Schmit, the grandson of the German officer who had befriended Captain Dudgeon, for sending me a copy of this letter, along with the following slightly edited account of the episode, based on memories of conversations with his grandfather.

88888888888888888888888888

I- Details concerning the sentence of P.Dudgeon.

My grandfather told me that as soon as P.Dudgeon and the private (whose names he never mentioned) were captured they were already condemned to death. Several attacks against railways had been being carried out in the area during those days and Hitler, who was furious, had personally ordered that any soldier captured in those circumstances had to be considered as irregular troops, (OKW [German War Ministry] believed the Allies were helped by Italian partisans who in fact were irregulars) and consequently shot at once. P. Dudgeon & the private were taken prisoner, carrying explosives with them. Also there were doubts about an overcoat found in the forest, but apparently they had not used it. However, most of the officers in the regiment were against the idea of execution as P. Dudgeon was captured without any partisan or irregular accompanying him, and both soldiers were in uniform and had military cards. As the divisional commander, General Von Zielberg had said in advance, by phone, that he couldn´t refuse to fulfil Hitler´s personal orders, some senior divisional officers directly tried to get in contact with Field Marshall Kesselring, (Italy’s German Commander in Chief), and also with the commander of their army who were both considered gentlemen, but couldn´t reach them.

Victor recalled that when General Von Zielberg arrived to the spot, and ordered the POW's execution, several officers (he amongst them), tried in private once again to convince the General that those soldiers had been taken in uniform and nobody else including any partisan or irregular had been found with them. A displeased Von Zielberg finished the discussion asking something like this: "After all gentlemen, I wonder on which side you are?" That comment annoyed my grandfather in such a way that, even being a junior officer, he didn´t care to answer a general in an unkind loud voice, saying: "General, you haven´t got the right to insult us in that way. In my case I volunteered for the Wehrmacht , and was twice awarded in Russia (while he showed the Iron Cross to his superior). Therefore our allegiance should be completely out of the question, but we are talking about POWS". As other officers also complained, the commander finally dismissed them and stayed alone with his adjutant officer and also with the regiment commander. After the execution, my grandfather was informed that it was strictly forbidden to send any kind of letter to enemies' relatives, even through the Red Cross. Therefore, on the account of high probability against surviving the war, and at the same time having promised P. Dudgeon to write to his father, he wrote a letter to his sister in Luxembourg telling all details of the case and asking her to send it to England only if he fell in combat, which was quite probable. He was conscious of the risk of doing so, (the correspondence could be checked out) but he felt he had to. Just several months after Dudgeon's death, he was awarded the Iron Cross once again in the early days of Anzio, where he distinguished himself facing British forces, this time in great disadvantage, with heavy losses in his unit. Then he was promoted to a higher rank. Curiously, one year later, he was informed that General Von Zielberg himself, was executed on Hitler´s orders, as a consequence of the July plot.

I would like to highlight the fact that my grandfather fulfilled his word of honor, writing another letter on May 1945, just two days before his surrender to Luxembourg's authorities. No matter how deeply affected he was those terrible days, he fulfilled Patrick Dudgeon´s last will. He told me that in 1945 when he was imprisoned and condemned to death for the only sin to join the german army in 1941 against Stalin, he promised himself to face the execution squad with the same dignity he had seen in Patrick Dudgeon. Happily for his family and friends, and for the orphans whose institution he supported during decades here [in Argentina], he managed to escape/avoid execution. Ten years after the war he received a letter from Luxemburg´s government asking for pardon and regretting all the suffering inflicted to my family, and also offered an economic reward, which he refused to accept.

II- Some details I can remember over the final hours

My grandfather evidently admired both soldiers' courage, as he made very clear to me the point that Dudgeon only surrendered to his troops, although they were outnumbered and surrounded, when both he & the private went out of ammunition after a short intense fight. During the night's conversation, when Victor told that he had been two years in Russia, Dudgeon was extremely interested to know about the conditions, and other aspects (Victor didn't tell me which other aspects) of the Russian front. Victor told him that as an average, each German soldier that had resisted those horrible conditions of the eastern front, could be regarded as an elite trooper for the standard of the western front. Patrick also commented that he respected German army behaviour, particularly in France, Africa and Russia, but said the British also had "some kind of fighting soul (spirit)".

When Patrick knew his fate, instead of trying to defend himself he intended to save the private, saying that he had been almost obliged to carry out the mission, something difficult to believe on the account they were special forces. Victor answered that he could do nothing about it, but would once again try to talk with his superiors, many of whom in fact agreed with him. He added that one sergeant who had been killed by them had 5 children, a fact that didn´t help. The private remained all night long in silence and didn´t want to talk at all. P. Dudgeon refused to smoke or to drink any alcoholic beverage. He asked whether there was a possibility (apparently on the account they had infiltrated far behind German lines), of being tortured in a potential interrogation. Victor said that it was not at all the way of the Wehrmacht, even on the soviet front, with red commissars captured alive, who were often transferred to SS units. Then they chatted about their childhood and youth, their families and military traditions, and about English literature & history (my grandfather was a high cultured man and knew a lot about Latin, Italian, French, German, and English literature). Next day when they said good bye, they shook hands firmly, and Lt. Schmit saluted both soldiers militarily making a loud sound with his boots as a humble homage to them.

At the end, after praying and looking at the shooting squad with a defiant expression in his face, several seconds before the execution order was given, Patrick Dudgeon began to sing "God save the King" in a loud voice, (the private followed him in doing so) which was touching for all the German officers, even the one who gave the final order.

Wednesday, 3 December 2008








Oundle's War - Memories of a Northamptonshire Town 1939-1945  With a Foreword by HRH The Duke of Gloucester GCVO






Remembrance Sunday in 1995 marked the 50th anniversary of the final acts in a drama which must be one of the most momentous of the 20th century.

Oundle’s War, published that year, preserved for posterity a record of some of the events which took place between 1939 and 1945, as lived by the people who saw them first-hand. The heroic, the comic, the atrocious and the bizarre – all found their place in its pages, which focused as much on the human interest as on the factual and historical detail. Praised by reviewers for its “assiduous research” (Legion magazine) the book by former Oundle school teacher Michael Downes has now been reprinted by popular demand.

Memories of the period have been gathered together from a wide range of sources, including interviews conducted by a team of 20 pupils from Oundle School and Prince William School. Those interviewed include not just veterans born and bred in Oundle, but also their families and those educated at its schools, along with residents who have settled more recently in the picturesque Northamptonshire town. Access to previously unpublished documents and photographs has made Oundle’s War a unique record of the experiences of the 1939-1945 generation.

The contents include chapters on life at the time in Oundle, personal recollections of members of the wartime generation who were involved in major military campaigns worldwide, and the testimony of prisoners of war both in Europe and Asia. A chapter on Friends and Allies pays tribute to the foreigners who fought the evil oppression of the Axis powers alongside the British people, notably the American aircrews based at the many airfields which surrounded Oundle.

All profits from the sales of Oundle’s War were and will be donated to the Royal British Legion, whose local representatives have collaborated in the making of the book. Oundle’s War has been a successful and lasting tribute to the wartime generation, and news of the reprint this year has been widely welcomed.

The people and the stories that make Oundle’s War a fascinating and moving document of our times include:

























Robin Miller, the Oundle resident and retired schoolmaster who found himself sitting a few tables away from Hitler in a Munich café before the war…















Emil Skiba, the Polish clockmaker of Oundle's West Street, who recalls the extraordinary odyssey of his flight to freedom from Siberia after the Soviet invasion of his country in September 1939, traveling 1,600 miles on foot to fight finally at the battle of Monte Cassino in Italy...

























Dame Miriam Rothschild DBE, FRS, the naturalist from Ashton who adopted 49 refugee children to save them from the Nazi death-camps…























Gerald Touch, the intelligence expert from Thapston, educated at Oundle, later to become a leading member of the team whose secret work on developing radar before the Second World War was to help save beleaguered Britain from disaster, and who ended his career as Chief Scientist at Government Communications Headquarters (GCHQ)…































Lieutenant Commander Patrick Beesly - author of various books about the work of the Admiralty’s Operational Intelligence Centre - and Sir Rodger Winn, the Oundle-educated masterminds who helped to wage Britain’s anti-submarine warfare during the Battle of the Atlantic...


























Rear Admiral Ben Bryant, DSO, DSC, the former Oundle pupil described as one of the most aggressive and successful submarine captains of the Second World War…


























Lorna Sloan, the 15-year-old Cotterstock Road girl who recorded her late-night partying with Hollywood star Clark Gable in her diary…
















Major Roger Johnson and the full story behind the USAAF veteran’s national headline-hitting gift of 94 brand-new bicycles to children from villages in the area in 1992 to repay a half-century-old debt…



















HRH Princess Alice and her ghostly meeting with a dead American airman in her garden at Barnwell…

























Former Oundle School pupil Robert Aitken DSO and his account of his part in the midget submarine operation to destroy the German battleship Tirpitz in September 1943…



























Oundle resident Ralph Leigh, the North African veteran turned pacifist, who recalled his meeting with Mussolini, and later in the war, his feelings on witnessing the burning city of Dresden...























The Oundle-educated SAS Captain Patrick Dudgeon MC, executed on Hitler’s orders following his capture on a secret mission in 1943, but praised by the German officer who interrogated him as “the bravest English officer I have ever met”…


























Former Merchant Navy man and Herne Road resident George Bristow's memory of an unexpected meeting in the English Channel with a chivalrous E-boat captain…



























Oundle-educated Norman Jewell, MBE, DSC, captain of the submarine HMS Seraph, who played a key role in the preparations for Operation ‘Torch’, and helped to trick Hitler by delivering ‘the Man who never was’…




























The origins in Oundle School Workshops of the device used by British POWs at Stalag Luft III to make one of the most daring escapes of the war, immortalized in the story The Wooden Horse…


























John Butler, the Oundle-educated Chindit Major, killed in action in Burma, June 1944, but not before he had written a poem ridiculing the patriotic nonsense that the British press was publishing about ‘Our Jungle boys’…


















The former RAF Intelligence Officer’s memory of opening Bomber Command Operational Order No 1 in front of the Air Vice Marshal just before 6 June 1944…



























Christopher Bond, the former Oundle School pupil and award-winning television scriptwriter from Glapthorn, and his account of what became unofficially known as the Charge of the Light Brigade in Normandy, July 1944…

























Oundle resident Roy McComish, who found himself amidst the débris of the Chancellery in Berlin a few days after Hitler’s death, and saw what the Russians had done in the Führer’s bedroom…














The ex-Oundle School boy and former PoW James Bradley, who recounted the harrowing story of his barbaric treatment at the hand of Japanese captors, his abortive escape from the Sonkurai labour camp on the Thailand-Burma railway in 1943 and his reprieve from sentence of death thanks to the courage of a fellow British officer…

























Basset Place resident Aubrey Clarke, who heard the explosion of the atom bomb at Nagasaki, 30 miles from his PoW camp, would have liked to go back to Japan, and remembered some of his guards with affection…

























Former USAAF 351st Bomb Group navigator Whitney Miller’s account of a typical bombing mission from Polebrook, and his mixed feelings about the experience of war…




























Oundle-educated humorist Arthur Marshall's view of the events at Dunkirk in May 1940…

















Headmaster Kenneth Fisher weeping as he read out in Oundle School Chapel the names of the latest casualties among ex-pupils …






















Charlie Schoenrock, from Warmington, the former German soldier captured in 1944 who settled in England after his time as a prisoner-of-war...

















The evacuee children who came to the bombed-out cities to rural Northamptonshire for safety, but then ran away to London because Oundle was a bit dull...


















Captain Clark Gable, the Hollywood star celebrated for his part in Gone with the Wind, who caused quite a stir in the Oundle area when he was stationed with the 351st Bomb Group at Polebrook Airfield and took part in combat missions as an air gunner...

















The wartime cartoons drawn for their Oundle friends by American servicemen, some of whom had worked in the Hollywood film industry...



The following article is based on the talk given by Michael Downes for the Oundle Festival of Literature on Remembrance Sunday 2008 about Oundle's War.

It’s not a newly published book by an up and coming young writer, and perhaps has only a limited appeal for the friends of one small market town in Northamptonshire. But what better way could there have been for the 2008 Oundle Literature Festival to raise funds for wounded ex-servicemen and their families on Remembrance Sunday than to ask the author to talk about the background to Oundle’s War and the reprint which has just been launched? All profits are again being donated to the Royal British Legion, as they were when the book originally appeared in 1995.

Of course I was the editor rather than the author of this book, which was subtitled Memories of a Northamptonshire Town 1939-1945. I chose to let others’ voices record the mixture of events – tragic and heroic, bizarre and even amusing – which for them made up the Second World War. Nor was I a professional editor, or even a specialist historian of the period. As I told former Blue Peter presenter Peter Purvis during an interview for BBC Radio Northampton, I’m not one of those people who knows the price of butter in 1943.

That 50th anniversary of the end of the war, when I decided to write a book to raise funds for the Royal British Legion is almost a distant memory for me now, as indeed is Oundle, now that I have retired to the other end of the country in Budleigh Salterton on the East Devon coast.

And yet there was one day earlier in the summer when, sunbathing on Budleigh’s famous pebble beach, I was struck by the sight of about 30 young men jogging along the Marine Parade towards the steeply rising coast path. On a weekday? Why weren’t they at work? Was it a football team in training? Suddenly – perhaps it was the haircuts – I realised that I was watching a group of Royal Marines from their base at Lympstone, on the Exe estuary. They would have been on a 30-mile training run which would eventually, no doubt, lead many of them to Afghanistan. Some would quite possibly never see their families again, or if they survived would be unrecognisable to their loved ones and would require constant care. I suddenly thought of the tragic losses among the young people of whom I’d written in Oundle’s War, and of course of the recent death of former Oundle School pupil Captain David Hicks.

And so, almost 15 years after the original publication, I’m pleased to be supporting once again the Royal British Legion. Thanks are due to Mike Murphy at Oundle School Bookshop for suggesting the idea of a reprint, and for handling the business side of things. It would also be right to acknowledge my debt to the original 1995 team of 20 pupils – ten from Oundle School and ten from Prince William School – who set to work under my guidance with tape-recorders and notebooks to interview veterans for the project.

The publication of Oundle’s War was a community-based venture, and would not have succeeded without the collaboration of many people with local links: Brenda Durndell and Melvyn Chapman were vital for the typesetting and pre-press work, as were David Marsden and Simon Dolby in the design field. Old Oundelian Andrew Clay facilitated the printing, while Chris Piper at the OO Club helped with marketing the book to former pupils. And finally I was grateful to my wife and family who read through the text so many times before it went to the printer.

With so many international problems now shared and solved in a positive spirit by the great powers, the grim and bloody squabble of World War Two seems even further away. But it’s no surprise that the 1939-45 conflict continues to inspire and to shock. No other event in History has inspired more films, for example: productions such as The Dam Busters, Reach for the Sky or The Bridge on the River Kwai which I saw as a child, but also more recent and more costly blockbusters which have moved later generations – Saving Private Ryan, The English Patient, Atonement… The list goes and will go on and on.

Pretty extraordinary and dramatic things happened of course. Even in Oundle.

In 1940, Churchill had announced that Britain was about to be invaded. Home Guards everywhere stood ready. At Oundle, the sixth formers of Grafton House remembered being given rifles and live rounds of ammunition and sent up to the playing fields to await the Nazi paratroopers. And to calm their nerves, the Housemaster gave each boy a cigarette. Everybody was ready to defend the kingdom.

Everybody? Well, not quite. In one village not too far from Oundle, one of the residents whom I interviewed for Oundle’s War remembered only too well Churchill’s terrifying announcement. Ready for the ultimate sacrifice this person raided the family gunroom and went from house to house prepared to distribute shotguns, hunting rifles and handguns to the villagers, imagining that they would be desperate to repel the Nazi paratroopers. The reality came as a shock. Not one English household was willing to take up the offer, frightened as the community was of being caught with weapons by the invaders and of being shot as resistance fighters. There was one exception, but that was a German Jewish refugee family which had settled in the village.

That story was omitted from the book at my interviewee’s insistence. This person loved the village and did not want the media to descend on it in 1995 and label its wartime residents as cowards.

Another story which did appear was much stranger. In 1944, just prior to the D-Day landings, Glapthorn Road resident Vic Thorington remembered being posted to Doncaster racecourse where his task was to bleed horses. Why, I wondered? Mr Thorington had certainly been given no indication by his superiors as to how those thousands of bottles of horse blood would be used.

I suggested to a professor of veterinary medicine at Cambridge that the sight of the full bottles could have been to boost the morale of soldiers prior to D-Day, reassuring them that adequate medical supplies had been provided by the Allies for the invasion. He retorted that this would have been morally outrageous; horse blood is in any case incompatible with human blood. And in retrospect, it might well be argued, the sight of all those blood supplies might have weakened morale.

I never did discover the answer, and decided to leave the puzzle to be solved perhaps by future young Oundle historians.

Another story which was not included in order to protect a family concerned a young British officer whose Oundle widow told me of the nightmares which would trouble him for many years after the war. When the Allies did invade in June 1944, some of the most savage resistance which they encountered was from members of the Hitler Youth. One group had been captured by the officer and his patrol who had locked them up in a wooden shed while awaiting reinforcements. It was obvious from the sounds of rioting that the young but fanatical Germans were about to break out. Some of them would certainly have concealed weapons and they outnumbered their captors. The British officer’s only horrifying solution was to allow his prisoners out one by one and to have his patrol execute them in cold blood. Had the affair come to light he would certainly have been prosecuted as a war criminal.

In a lighter vein, the late Dame Miriam Rothschild told me the story of how she had acted as a chaperone for Clark Gable, stationed at Polebrook Airfield with the USAAF’s 351st Bomb Group as a B17 air-gunner. The Hollywood star, celebrated for his recent performance in Gone with the Wind, had been invited to a party at the local hospital and explained that he needed to be protected from the nurses who were apparently desperate to seize a piece of his underwear.

Some of these more controversial stories were not included in Oundle’s War; I did not set out to write a troublesome work which might have caused embarrassment. The book had its origins in an eight-page supplement published in a 1992 edition of the Oundle Chronicle as a tribute to the USAAF; local newspapers everywhere were marking the 50th anniversary of the arrival of the Americans in Britain. With the 50th anniversary of the end of World War Two approaching in 1995, it was clear that the making of a book to involve Oundle pupils would be a wonderful educational opportunity, to provide, in the words of the town’s Royal British Legion former Treasurer Peter Francis “a lasting reminder to all, of what some ordinary people did during those six momentous years.”

That thought, in connection with an earlier war, had perhaps been at the back of my mind for the 25 years following the move that my family and I made in the 1980s to our own house in Oundle, a Victorian property on the corner of Herne Road. For there, etched faintly on the panelling we discovered the name of the decorator, H.B. Hancock, and the date, 1912. It was many months later while passing the war memorial, that I saw with a sudden chill and sadness the name of the poor man who had lost his life in the first year of the Great War.

There are plenty of stories in Oundle’s War about ordinary people who found themselves caught up in dramatic situations during World War Two, as well as previously published exploits of well-known wartime heroes, many of them educated at Oundle. The book’s chapter-based structure allowed approaches from a variety of angles. Research for the first chapter, ‘Beginnings’, was a real eye-opener: the visit of a Hitler Youth group to Oundle in the 1930s, arguments for and against appeasement in the School debating society in the face of Hitler’s advances, the intensity with which poems contributed to the school magazine The Laxtonian treated the subject of war, the air-raid shelters built by pupils… such discoveries brought the period to life. They included the extract from former Oundle School Head of Music Robin Miller’s 1935 diary entry, recording how he sat a few tables away from Hitler in a Munich café.

Research for the book led to the honouring of an Oundle-educated former Chief Scientist of GCHQ by the Master of the Grocers’ Company, when a plaque was unveiled in Laxton Cloisters in 1995 recording the vital pre-war work on radar defences carried out by former pupil Gerald Touch.

‘Oundle at War’, the second chapter, owed a tremendous debt to the O-level History coursework carried out by former Laxton School pupil Patrick Duerden; his research into evacuees, rationing, wartime fund-raising, the Women’s Land Army and the Home Guard was invaluable. Among the many amusing stories in this chapter was the reported arrest by US military police of the School’s Headmaster Dr Kenneth Fisher, who had been foolish enough to go bird-watching with binoculars near Polebrook Airfield; unfortunately he had set out without his identity card. But the section ends poignantly with the sight of ‘Bud’ Fisher in the Chapel and the news of Old Oundelians recently killed in action, as remembered by former pupil Paul Massey: “I remember him blubbing as he read out the names to the whole school. I didn’t understand why he was blubbing – I only 13 at the time.”

The third chapter, ‘Active Service’, is the longest: it combines a chronological history of World War Two with a record of the heroic deeds and the tragic loss of life among both young servicemen from Oundle town, and among some of the 2,480 ex-Oundle School pupils who had enlisted. Incidents such as the deaths of two brothers, Gordon and Michael Potts, killed on the same day in different parts of France, struck me as particularly sad. Other episodes in which Old Oundelians played an important role could be said to have contributed positively to the course of the war and the Allied victory; 392 former pupils were decorated and 372 were mentioned in despatches. It was an honour to meet Norman Jewell, captain of HMS Seraph, the submarine which played such an important part in the wartime counter-intelligence operation immortalised in the book and the film The Man Who Never Was. Yet another of Oundle’s war heroes, Robert Aitken, gave me a detailed and fascinating account of his 1943 journey across the North Sea in the successful X-craft midget submarine operation to disable the Tirpitz, Germany’s most feared battleship at the time. Equally absorbing, but grim in its depiction of the conflict was Geoffrey Bond’s account of the fighting in France following the D-Day landings; I changed nothing in this text from a former Oundle School pupil, better known as the television scriptwriter Christopher Bond whose shows would ironically include successful comedies like To the Manor Born and Keeping Up Appearances.

‘Friends and Allies’, the fourth chapter, included an extended version of the tribute to the American servicemen which had appeared in the 1992 Oundle Chronicle. From Polebrook Airfield alone, 405 airmen had lost their lives during World War Two. As Miriam Rothschild told me, “I don’t think we realised how much we owed the Americans. They were incredibly brave, incredibly tough, incredibly dedicated, and I don’t know what would have happened here if we hadn’t had the American air force stationed at Polebrook and the various other places from where they operated. We must always be deeply grateful.” Many were the stories, enthralling and touching, horrific and sometimes amusing, which I was told by Oundle’s wartime residents. A page in the book reproduces the entry made by the 15-year-old schoolgirl Lorna Sloan, recording the “whale of a party” that she had with Clark Gable until 2.30 am on 24 August 1943. “I had Clarky! He is really very nice but by no means good!” she wrote.

Also included in this chapter was the full account given by the ex-USAAF veteran Major Roger Johnson, who returned to the Polebrook area in 1992 to repay a half-century-old debt. His present of 94 new bicycles to local children was the result of his having borrowed a bike one night in order to get back to the airbase in time for an early morning bombing raid. For 48 years he had anguished over the fact that he had not been able to return the bike to its owner.

The Americans were not Britain's only allies; chapter four also recorded some of the stories told by Oundle’s Polish residents. One of the most remarkable was that of Emil Skiba, the town’s respected clockmaker, whose 1,500-mile flight on foot to escape the Russians led him via the Middle East – where he learnt his clockmaking skills – to Italy where he took part in the battle of Monte Cassino in Italy.

The penultimate chapter focuses on the servicemen with Oundle links who became prisoners of war. For Old Oundelians like Robert Aitken the School’s “pre-war moderately spartan style” helped to make life as a PoW tolerable. Others were involved in classic escape stories which have been made into books and films. The role played by the School Workshops in the making of Stalag Luft III’s vaulting horse, for example, immortalised in the book The Wooden Horse, is not generally known by Oundle people.

Yet other veterans in Oundle’s War found that their captivity challenged a stereotyped view of the enemy. Among local residents I found Ralph Leigh, whose experiences as a captive in North Africa and Germany could be described as life-changing. A chance meeting with a chivalrous Mussolini prompted his thought, “Who’s been filling us with all these stories about the people we’re supposed to be fighting?” Later, as a prisoner in his camp outside Dresden, the revulsion and anger at the sight of the horrific firestorm which destroyed the city in February 1945, would make him, as he put it, “a complete pacifist.”

In the Far East, feelings for the enemy were less ambiguous: ex-Oundle pupil James Bradley’s account of the savage treatment of Allied prisoners forced to work by the Japanese on the Thailand-Burma railway provided many instances of man’s inhumanity to man. And yet Oundle resident Aubrey Clark, who was lucky enough to be a prisoner on the Japanese mainland, quoted numerous instances of his captors’ fair treatment of Allied servicemen, and even of their kindness.

As for enemy PoWs in Britain, this chapter of Oundle’s War included the story of Charlie Schoenrock, captured in August 1944 as Allied troops pushed into France. Morale was low, and resistance was not an option, he explained. “We were all just walking in a field like lost sheep.” Happily settled in the Oundle area and working for the School he became, in his own words, “a naturalised Englishman” as well as a friendly face for generations of pupils, especially at the Workshops.

‘The End’, the final chapter, included mention not only of the memorials and celebrations which marked the conclusion of World War Two but also veterans’ reflections on the conflict and the lessons which they believed they had learnt. For if, at the very least, as one reviewer has put it, the book has “ensured that many of the voices of that era will survive for posterity” Oundle’s War will have amply served its purpose.


*****
WHAT THEY'VE SAID ABOUT OUNDLE'S WAR
“A unique record of the experiences of the 1939-45 generation” – Peterborough and Oundle Herald and Post.

“An anecdotal history of the war of surprising breadth and interest. (…) Michael Downes’ book has ensured that many of the voices of that era will survive for posterity. His contribution as selector, editor and arranger is done with the tact and skilful self-effacement that those tasks require, and the result is that rare thing – a volume of local history that can be read with enjoyment by those who know nothing of the locality.” – David Warnes, Conference and Common Room, Journal of the Headmasters’ Conference Schools.

“A memorable account of what World War II did to the small town, its residents, school old boys and troops (mostly American airmen) stationed nearby. (…) It’s a monumental volume.” – Mike Colton, Peterborough Evening Telegraph.

“A fascinating collection of individual memories and opinions, showing how these experiences came to colour people’s lives. From Hitler’s bunker in Berlin, to the relief of Belsen concentration camp, from Dresden to Changi Gaol, a citizen of Oundle was there. (…) The assiduous research of Michael Downes, the stories he has unearthed (and the pictures to illustrate them) make this book a unique compilation.” – LEGION Magazine.

“Michael Downes wanted this book to be an expression of sympathy and gratitude as well as an evocation of a world at war in all its aspects. He has succeeded brilliantly, compiling an immensely readable and inspiring record of service and social life.” – Dennis Ford, The Old Oundelian.