2014, in which I related my story of two young men who lived with my
family
for several weeks in the summer of 1944. I did not realize it then, but I
now feel confident that they were very likely German POW's.
Here's a link discussing such POW's in NC
https://www.ncpedia.org/history/20th-Century/wwii-pows
Note that main camps for the POW's were Fort Bragg (south of our home in
1944), Camp Butner (NW of our home in '44) and Camp McCall (SW of our home
in '44), but several smaller camps (New Bern, Edenton, Williamston,
Wilmington, Ahoskie) were generally east of us. The farm is located 5
miles
west of Spring Hope on US highway 64, at that time a main east-west
corridor
running generally through the middle of the state the entire distance from
Manteo on the coast nearly 600 miles to the SW corner of the state. The
entire route has been significantly upgraded and/or replaced and
supplemented by multi-lane, limited access super highways, such as I-40
and
I-85, but many parts of the 1944 highway are still in use. The two men in
1944 were traveling westward from somewhere east of our farm.
Following is a re-post of the original:
TWO STRANGERS (VISITORS)
One Saturday afternoon in early summer, Carson, then nearly 18 and
driving the car, Daddy and I, then 10, were returning home after grocery
shopping in Spring Hope. We came upon two young men in their early
twenties, standing by the road trying to “hitch” a ride. We stopped for
them, and they got into the back seat with me. They were thin, dirty &
unshaven and had no luggage or baggage - no package of any sort - that I
remember. They said that they had not had a meal in several days and had
been eating green, raw corn from the fields by the road. They told us that
they were from New Jersey and just “bumming” around the country on an
“adventure.” Because tobacco harvest time was just beginning, and labor
was
in short supply, Daddy made a deal with them to stay with us for the
summer
and help with the harvest.
They had never been on a farm before, but learned quickly, seeming to
enjoy all of it, especially when I would let them “drive” the mules
pulling
the small tobacco trucks back and forth from the fields to the curing
barn.
At times, however, they wanted the mules to go too fast for our safety and
the animals’ good health. Once, when one of them was driving the mule
pulling an empty tobacco trunk along the side of the busy, paved highway,
and I was in the truck with him, he was making the mule run. Suddenly,
the
mule bolted onto the pavement in front of an approaching Trailways bus!
The
bus driver and I stared into each other’s terrified eyes as the bus
skidded
toward us and stopped close enough for me to reach out and touch the front
of it. Every day I’ve had since that day has been a bonus.
The visitors and I soon became good friends and were often “alone” -
just the three of us. Almost every time we were “alone,” one of them
would
ask me if I spoke German, sometimes pressing me with, “Are you sure you
don’t
speak German?” Of course, I, a ten-year-old farm boy in eastern North
Carolina in 1944, did not speak German. After being assured each time
that
I did not speak German, they would go into a private & lengthy
conversation
in German. Until a few years ago, I had never told anybody else in the
family about these conversations in German and their insistence that I not
be able to understand them. They never spoke German around others in the
family, and I was too young and naïve to suspect anything other than what
they had told us, but I now feel certain that the two young men were,
indeed, German.
The two visitors were with us for six or eight weeks ‘til Daddy began
to
suspect that he may have been harboring “draft dodgers” and asked them to
leave. They left our lives as suddenly as they had entered. Meanwhile,
they had become part of our family - ate with us, slept in our house, wore
my brothers’ clothes, etc. - a relaxed & comfortable part of the family.
Though they became such a part of the family for that short time, I do not
remember their names; I vaguely remember that one was blond and the other
darker.
Years later, after I had gained some knowledge of German, and learned
that there had been German prisoner-of-war camps in eastern North Carolina
and German ships/submarines had been sunk near the coast, I realized that
these two were most likely escaped German prisoners of war or even
survivors
from a sunken German ship. There were times many years ago, while
watching
a movie with German speakers or someone speaking English with a German
accent, when I would feel that I had heard certain sounds and accent
before,
finally realizing and remembering that I had heard them in 1944 from our
two
visitors.
How ironic that these two lived with us in friendship while two of my
brothers were at war trying to rid the world of their maniacal leader and
his thugs - one of my brothers, Lewis, was on Omaha Beach in Normandy at
the
same time the visitors were living with us. Later that year, my brother,
Carson, who slept in the same room with the visitors as “brothers,” was
drafted into the army and fought in Germany the following spring. At the
same time I had such a fear and hatred of Germans as a little boy (because
of the talk of war, news on the radio, in the papers, the enemy, etc.),
these two kind, young German men lived with us and were my good friends.
(For years, I have wondered what happened to the two visitors. Who
were
they, really, and where were they really from? Did they stay on in the
states after the war? Have they kept their “secret” all these years, or
did
they return to Germany a year or so after they lived with us? Have they
raised families - are their families German or American? Have they told
their children and families about my mother, who cooked three full meals
for
them every day and cared for them in many other ways as if they were her
own
children? Have they told their families about the kind, tenant-farmer
family in North Carolina who gave them refuge, treating them as sons and
brothers during such a cruel and terrible time in world history? Can we
all
take this as a good example of how even mortal enemies can live in peace,
harmony & trust if we look at each other as fellow humans in need of
comfort
without all the usual “baggage” of politics and religion? I hope so.)
WILTON
