Long Hard Road: American POWs During World War II

4: Relations Between Men

Relations Between Men T HROUGHOUT the Stalags and Luft Stalags, prisoners formed themselves into groups for both companionship and support. Generally comprising two to six men, these groups shared extra food, looked after each other during illness, and helped pass the endless days. Organization was sometimes by branch of service or home state, other times by religion or shared interests. Loners were few. Many of these relationships became deep and lasting friendships. An army infantryman put it this way: “We spent every minute of every day together , for almost a year. With some guys, you get to be like brothers in a situation like that.” There is tangible evidence that the bonds forged behind barbed wire proved long lasting: ex-POWs interviewed for this project were more than twice as likely to have remained in contact with men from their camp experiences than with men from their service units. Yet not all was positive, for familiarity also bred contempt. Very close quarters, hunger, and an overabundance of free time could exacerbate personality and other differences and create friction. Still, perhaps surprisingly , physical altercations were rare. A notable exception: men caught stealing in the barracks, especially when it was food, could expect little mercy from their fellow prisoners.1 And food was a primary focus of everyday life, surfacing in conversations , dreams, notebooks. The Germans did provide food—poor quality bread, potatoes, and thin soups predominated—but there was a severe lack of meat and fresh vegetables, and amounts of food were barely sufficient and decreased as the war entered its final year. Minimal quantities meant a sharp focus on equal portion size, too. Hungry men paid very close attention to how food was divided, be it a loaf of bread, the evening meal, or the contents of a Red Cross parcel.2 This shortage of food sometimes allowed the darker side of human nature to surface. At certain camps, the strong preyed on the weak, and 104 H H H H H H 4 H H H H H H there are cases where the consequences proved deadly—men killed, and were killed, in attempts to steal food. in the pacific, too, the demands of life behind barbed wire led men to greatly rely on each other. There were closely knit tribes, with members providing the crucial assistance necessary to survive another day. Even more so than in Europe, loners were few—and loners that survived fewer still.3 The constant struggle to supplement inadequate rations consumed much of a tribe’s time and energy. At first in most camps, in addition to rice the Japanese provided small quantities of vegetables, beans, even fish or the occasional portion of meat. As the war dragged on, however, these extras gradually disappeared and little other than rice was supplied ; caloric intake, at the best of times less than half the daily average of a peacetime U.S. soldier, fell even further. In such circumstances, prisoners learned to eat anything they could find, including snakes, monkeys, insects, and frogs. Red Cross parcels, an important source of nutrition for Americans held in German camps, were rarely seen: the Japanese showed little interest in accepting and distributing extra food.4 Physically and even psychologically debilitated by the poor diet, prisoners craved food and conspired to get it in any way possible. As Japan’s situation deteriorated, POWs received less food; as a result, men went to greater lengths to satisfy this urge. And as strong as friendships or as united as tribes might be, they didn’t always stand up to starvation. “If the men were to survive, they had to live by their wits,” writes Brian MacArthur in Surviving the Sword. “Thieves, racketeers, and black marketers flourished in all the prison camps of the Far East, often at the expense of their fellow prisoners.” Entrepreneurs prospered; the strong preyed on the weak. In the end, anything—and anyone—was fair game.5 Men in German Camps After months in the hospital recovering from a gunshot wound, Dick Carroll, a bomber pilot, arrived at Luft I in December 1944. Friends were essential. [Y]ou had trust and reliance. You knew the individuals. You knew what to expect of them, and you knew that you could get along real well with them. It was almost like having this blanket that a little kid runs around relations between men 105 with. . . . It’s that same...