Whilst on collective training exercises, on the Luneberg Heath training area, we sometimes used an enormous camp known as Hohne. This, reputedly, had been the barracks which housed the guards who were employed at the infamous Bergen-Belsen concentration camp, during WW2. This melancholy relic of the Nazi regime was situated only a few kilometres away, between two small villages, from which it took its name. We were all taken to this dreadful place whilst we were in the area, and I have to say that it was an experience I shall never forget. There was an almost tangible aura of gloom and despondency, even though the weather was warm and sunny. I shudder to think how it must feel on a cold, dank day in midwinter.
There were several large, rectangular earth mounds, grass covered and tidy. On each was a notice which read “Here lie buried 5,000 bodies”. Or “Here lie buried 800 bodies”. I know it to be a cliché to say that no birds sang there, but it is no less true. The area is surrounded by pine forest, which I know is not conducive to birdsong, but nevertheless, there was an eerie and oppressive silence. A memorial wall bore inscriptions in many languages, that in English being “EARTH, CONCEAL NOT THE BLOOD SHED ON THEE”. There was a number of deep, open pits with sloping sides and a well-worn path all around the perimeter. Each of these was about a hundred feet long and fifty feet wide. I can only guess as to their purpose. The whole vast area was preserved, with its high wire fences and lookout towers. To a young man of nineteen years, this was a truly chilling experience.
On my return to our barracks at Minden, I went to see Liz, a German woman who worked in the Naafi kiosk. She would have been about thirty years old and she and I often chatted together of an evening. She said she had missed me, and asked where I had been. I explained that we had been up to Hohne, to the training area, and I mentioned that I had been to Bergen-Belsen. She asked what this place was and I told her that it was the wartime concentration camp. She said she had never heard of such a place and didn’t know what I was talking about. I didn’t bother arguing about it, but I was rather shocked to hear a lady of her intelligence sticking to this line, ten years after the war!
Mention above of the camp at Hohne throws up two more memories.As I have already said, this camp covered an enormous area and consisted mainly of row upon row of identical, white painted barrack blocks. This barracks had an ever-changing population of troops, who stayed for a few weeks at a time, whilst they were using the surrounding training area. These were not only British, but also Dutch, American and Canadian soldiers.
Careful note was necessary upon arrival, of the particular building to which the unit had been assigned, in order to find it again later. A bed space was allocated to each man, and on the bed was an empty palliasse cover. This was taken down to the basement, where there was a pile of straw, and from these raw materials you made up your mattress for the duration of your stay. Came time to leave and the straw was returned to the basement and the cover handed in for laundering. I don’t know how often the straw was changed, but I know for sure that this was not the most luxurious bed I have ever slept on!
On one occasion whilst I was in this place, I was “button-holed” on the stairs by a Yank, as I was going down and he was coming up. Taking me by the arm, and pointing to my beret, he asked enthusiastically “Say Bud, where can I git me one a them hats?” I was quite taken aback by this strange question, wondering why anyone would want one of those things. “I don’t know.” I replied “It is just a part of our uniform” “Say,” he persisted, “I’ll give you ten shillings for that hat.” “I can’t sell you my beret” I protested, “I’d be in big trouble if I went on parade without a hat!” “Say,don’t yer have a Quorder- Masta in your army, where you can go and buy another one?” I decided that this conversation wasn’t making any progress, so I just shrugged my shoulders and went on my way. Ten shillings indeed!