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During the time I was at Luckenwalde I did not receive a single letter nor did the others. The last letter that I received at Belaria was dated mid-October. The transportation system in the Fatherland was so messed up from the bombing that little if anything got through. By some fluke I received 1000 British Consols cigarettes from a Port Hope service club. At that time cigarettes were going for a buck each inside the camp and in those days a dollar meant something. I didn't smoke and neither did Johanny Fraser so I gace 100 cigs to each of our other ten guys. British Consols were not their favourite brand but no one complained.

The POW camps and the town of Sagan had been overrun by the Soviets in mid-February and the armies of Marshal Zukov and Marshal Koniev were beginning to move in the direction of Berlin while the Western Allies were preparing to cross the Rhine. There was aerial activity overhead almost every day as the hugh fleets of American bombers penetrated Eastern Germany at will. The RAF continued its heavy raids making it a virtual round-the-clock effort.

In March we received our one and only shipment of Red Cross parcels while at Luckenwalde. It amounted to one parcel per man and it was like manna from heaven. Somehow this one batch got through from the supplies awaiting shipment in Switzerland and Sweden. We didn't know it at the time but we had another two months to spend in Germany and this one shipment from the Canadian Red Cross made a world of difference. It was lovely spring weather and on March 23, the day the Allies crossed the Rhine, we were sunbathing. Things were coming up roses.

By early April we knew that the total collapse of Germany could not be far off. The Soviets were making huge gains all along the eastern front. Meanwhile the Americans had encircled the Ruhr cities and were moving deeper into the Fatherland. The British and Canadians were making good progress in the northern sector. It became a guessing game as to who would reach us first although it was clear that Joe Stalin's troops were a lot closer. There was more and more aerial activity and one night we got our first taste of what ground war was like. We were in bed and well after midnight were awakened by the sound of an aircraft buzzing the camp which in itself was not especially alarming. All of a sudden the pilot let fly with his canons and the explosions reverberated through the camp. Just about everybody bailed out and hit the floor as if that would provide much protection. The attack ended as quickly as it began and we wondered what damage had been done. There seemed to be no hits on our hut but we didn't sleep much for the rest of the night. Next morning it was learned there were no casualties and the shells had exploded in the open spaces of one of the outer compounds.

A few days later the guards spread the word that the Commonwealth aircrew prisoners were to be evacuated and the rumour was that it was to be southern Germany. At that stage there were three Group Captains in camp including G/C MacDonald who had been our CO at Belaria. They were taken to the railway station on April 11 and we didn't see them again. It was rumoured that the Commonwealth aircrew were to be held as hostages and this was not a pleasant thought. Sure enough the next day we were ordered to pack up and were marched down to the station where there were boxcars waiting on a siding. It was a bright sunny morning quite different to the wet February night when we arrived. It was a large marshaling yard with several rail lines passing through the town. We were told we would be pulling out as soon as a locomotive arrived. When it was discovered that there was no locomotive, the senior British officer, Wing Commander Collard, who was now in charge, decided it was prudent to mark the top of the boxcars to let any fighter bomber pilots know there were Allied POWs inside the cars. The guards thought this was a great idea ‐ they didn't want to be strafed anymore than we did. And so they went up town and procured several containers of bright yellow paint. There was no shortage of volunteer painters and the letters RAF and POW were soon prominently displayed on every boxcar. We felt a lot better.

We spent all day in the boxcars however the guards permitted the doors to remain open. They also let us out to stretch our legs and served soup once or twice a day. At this stage of the war the guards were very accommodating although they kept an eagle eye on us all along the siding. Next day there was still no sign of a locomotive and we wondered what was in store for us. Out of the blue came the shocking news from the guards that President Roosevelt was dead. Some of the older guards seemed genuinely sorry while the keen types were overjoyed in the belief that the death of the president was divine intervention and a clear signal that even now, Germany would emerge victorious.

Later that same afternoon a locomotive came into view and raced through the marshaling yards at quite a clip disappearing around a bend about a kilometre up the track. It had to turn around and be switched to our track and be coupled to our string of boxcars. It didn't happen. Just then there was a glint in the sky to the west as two American P‐ 47 Thunderbolts appeared and made a screaming dive on the locomotive with cannons blazing. Before we actually heard the sound of the explosions a huge cloud of steam erupted and though it was beyond our view, it was certainty that the locomotive was mortally wounded. The Yanks had done their work well and we were not moved to Southern Germany. I often wondered what our fate would have been had there been a locomotive available on the first day. The Germans gave up the attempt and returned us to camp the next morning. As we entered Stalag IIIA once again, the Americans lined the enclosure and sang, "Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here". It was a warm welcome and a reminder of the bond between the Anglo American allies.

Battle activity was increasing and we begin to hear the rumbling of artillery fire to the east. Meanwhile the Americans were advancing towards the Elbe River and we thought there was a chance we might be liberated by the Americans. On the night of April 14th the air raid sirens sounded as they did almost every night, but this time it was different. We could hear the sound of heavy bombers approaching from the west, and as we had not yet been locked in for the night, we ventured outside to take a look. What we saw was a great fireworks display with the Pathfinder flares cascading down and the anti-aircraft shells exploding in the sky. The target was Potsdam, a few miles to the north and this famous city was taking quite a pasting. There were no signs of enemy night fighters nor did we see any aircraft shot down. It had all the earmarks of a successful raid and it was over in 20 minutes. It turned out this was the last major raid of the war on Germany by RAF Bomber Command and we had a ringside seat.

We now knew that liberation was at a distinct possibility. The speed of the Russian advance and the collapse of the German defences to the east was a complete surprise to everyone. Just seven days later on the afternoon of April 21, the goons in the sentry tower came down from their perch and took off for parts unknown. There wasn't a guard in sight ‐ we couldn't believe it. We were no longer prisoners although we were still behind barbed wire. Most of the guys in our combine plus a few others did a stupid thing. We went out the gate down the road to the German quarters. We were still within the general camp area but definitely outside the safety of our compound. We went through a couple of the German barracks and found them abandoned. We did see one very inebriated German outside and that was all. We left him alone and he left us alone. After an hour of reconnaissance and no looting we returned to our compound. In thinking about it later and even today, we realized that the barracks could have been booby‐trapped and we could have been blown to bits. Also there was no way of knowing whether the Germans would return they could have shot us or used us as hostages or whatever ‐ fortunately nothing happened.

Things were fairly quiet that night with only sporadic gunfire. Needless to say we didn't get much sleep, about 6 AM we heard a lot of commotion and cheering outside and so we hurried into our clothes. We ran outside and by now a crowd had gathered. In the midst of the throng there were two soldiers in strange uniforms ‐ one of whom appeared to be an officer. They were Russians and the officer speaking in his native tongue explained that they were an advance party and the main force was expected in a couple of hours. Several of the Poles in the next hut spoke fluent Russian and translated for the group. It was quite a speech about the virtues of communism and Mother Russia. After about half an hour, the two 'Russkies' climbed into their scout car and took off down the road. There were no Germans about.

By mid ‐ morning everybody was outside waiting to be liberated. There was gunfire and the sound of monetary in the direction of the Lucan wall itself, but nothing close. Some of the guys climbed the barbed wire fence to obtain a better view and gave us a running commentary. Before long one of the lookouts shouted, "They're coming" - and come they did.The column of use Russian tanks roared into camp and drove down the line of barbed wire fences ripping gaping holes in the enclosure. The supporting structure toppled in several places and some of the POWs who were still on the fence had to jump to safety. I remember so well one of the tanks that passed about ten feet from me. It was camouflaged with fir boughs and all that was visible was the huge cannon on the front and the tank treads. On board were about a dozen troopers and what a motley crew they were. There were two with oriental features and one female soldier. It was then that we learned that in the Soviet military there were some women serving in front ‐ line combat duty.