Tough Times Dads Go Through - A Tribute to a Father

It is Father's Day today. Dad would've been a 100 this year. As kids we seldom realised the sacrifices our fathers made and the sufferings they endured. Dads go through tough times too, tougher than we could ever imagine. I only appreciated this long after my father was no longer there for me to express my own indebtedness. He was a good man. It is only now that I can appreciate the hardships he endured. When I go through tough times I then think of Dad. It gives me perspective and I am enthused with new hope again. In fact, I don't really know what tough times are, when I think of Dad!All the while I thought I was the only one who had it tough.

During WWII, my Dad, Arthur George Garvie (1910-1977) was a Corporal in the South African,  Umvoti Mounted Rifles. He went to war in North Africa in 1941. He was taken POW at Tobruk in 1942 and was held at several POW camps in North Africa and Italy as were thousands of others. He then escaped in 1943 and joined the Italian Resistance, the Partisans, but was captured again and transferred to Stalag VII A at Moosburg, Bavaria.

You can read something of the grim story and see some of the dismal pictures by going to the Moosburg, Stalag VIIA pages at http://www.moosburg.org/info/stalag/indeng.html .  He never spoke about his deprivations. He was gracious enough to spare us that. I was only to catch a glimpse of the suffering and anguish years later from a close friend who had been with him during that time. Dad did however leave me a few notes he had kept while at Stalag VIIA. These can be read at http://www.moosburg.org/info/stalag/garveng.html . Today I simply want to recognize something of the suffering that led to that and and pay tribute to the triumph of his spirit.

On the day that Pearl Harbour was attacked, Sunday the 7th December 1942, the South Africans entered Tobruk in Libya to take up defensive positions. Rommel and the Afrika Korps had till then been in hot retreat. However, during the Allied occupation, the harbour was subjected to innumerable air attacks. Tobruk had the reputation of being one of the most frequently bombed towns during the war. Meanwhile Rommel was advancing with new reinforcements. The South African Springboks gallantly held the Gazala line for six months.

Then Rommel attacked Tobruk. On that fateful Saturday the 20th June 1942 Rommel took the initiative. All hell broke lose. The panzer attack started at about 6.00am to the south-east and continued into the afternoon. By nightfall the South Africans were engulfed. Small pockets of South Africans fought desperately and grimly. General Klopper faced the outright massacre of his men or surrender. "Gentlemen," he grimly admitted, "it would be foolish to continue." He surrendered. 28000 men were taken Prisoners of War. Dad was one of them. Nothing could be more humiliating and dehumanising than surrendering and being taken a prisoner by the enemy.

The prisoners were first handed over to the Italians. The conditions in the transit camps were terrible. Day after relentless day the indescribable nightmare increased. Historian, John Bosman described the dismal situation, "....the sight of masses of Prisoners of War dejected, unshaven, dirty and unkempt, was... depressing. The thought of these men who just a few days previously had represented the cream of manhood, degenerating to such a low ebb in so short a time, was incomprehensible. The reason for this was that most of them had been without food and water for several days. When the only available water tanker arrived periodically throughout the day, there was an uncontrollable rush by hundreds of prisoners... It was a degrading spectacle to see men lying on the ground lapping up puddles of precious liquid, to the amusement of the Italian sentries." There was overcrowding, inadequate water and sanitation, very little food and a lot of dysentery.

A few days after the fall of Tobruk, Padre Chutter, the Divisional Chaplain, addressed the men. Dad was probably one of that very discouraged congregation. The padre's memorable theme was, "If you don't dent your environment, your environment will dent you." He implored the men to "squeeze goodness out of the circumstances". He urged them to use their brains, to release the spiritual within them, and to return home better balanced - to take captivity captive! That was precisely what Dad was to do. He squeezed goodness out of the circumstances.

Dad's friend and fellow soldier, Alan Hackland, described what happened:

"We were taken Prisoners of War at Tobruk on the 20th June 1942 and removed from Tobruk by road transport to Benghazi on the North African Coast. After about seven days we were camped out and guarded in the desert.

"We stayed in the Benghazi POW camp for about fourteen days. It was a dreadful camp without water or toilets and only a few dry rations were issued. Arthur had a bad time because at Tobruk he had teeth trouble and toothache and had all his teeth pulled out. He was waiting for his mouth to harden before having dentures fitted. Hard and dry army biscuits had to be soaked before he could eat them and there was little water to soak them in. I can remember him holding them in his mouth in an effort to moisten them before he could swallow them."

"We arrived by ship at Brindisi on the heel of Italy after about three days at sea. Brindisi was a transit area and we soon moved on to Lucca in the north. The boat trip over was a real nightmare. We were down in the hold of the ship. I was actually wet from water leaking in past the propeller bearing and no rations were issued. The toilet was a wooden trough up on deck washing from a pump into the sea. There was nothing to hold onto and many missed the trough in their efforts not to fall overboard. From the hold of the ship we queued up on a rope ladder and only three POWs were let out at a time so those holding on to the ladder with upset tummies often soiled those below them. Seasickness was also rife and I can remember one of my men who was very green around the gills and lying down near the toilet trough begging me to throw him overboard. This I naturally did not do!

"We arrived at Lucca in northern Italy on Sunday the 26th July 1942 after two nights and one and a half days enclosed in a cattle truck without rations, without water, without sanitary accommodation. We were now 36 days in captivity. At one stop Italian women fed us fresh grapes through the cattle truck bars and these gave most of us runny tummies ... We were so tightly packed in the trucks that it was impossible for everybody to lie or sit down at the same time. Rest was rationed."

From Lucca the POWs were moved to Gravina. There Dad managed to escape.

"On Wednesday the 7th April 1943 Arthur was sent out on a working party and I lost touch with him. We were together for 291 days since Tobruk. All ranks below the rank of sergeant were forced to go out on working parties, which gave them extra rations, and an escape from boredom. On returning home after the war his brother informed me that Arthur had escaped in Italy and joined the Italian Partisans and fought alongside them against the Germans."

Dad was eventually recaptured. The Partisans were executed in his presence including the woman who had hid him. This affected Dad deeply. From there he was taken to Moosburg where he remained.

On his birthday toward the end of 1944 Dad asked that haunting question which we all need to ask: "Yesterday I turned thirty- four. Yes - 34 years of doing what? My answer of course must be very disappointing, but I thank our Loving Father for His Wonderful Love in drawing me into His Bosom... I have received so many blessings these last two months and His Spirit has led me into so many truths... At times I have felt pleased that the war had not ended for I may have missed this Wonderful of Blessings and experience of Jesus working in me." He squeezed goodness out of the circumstances.

On Christmas Eve 1944 just after midnight he was moved by a profound, ineffable spiritual experience that was to sustain him for the rest of his life. In the dark barrack light he scribbled a note to my mother:

"The time is now a quarter to one in the morning... I do feel so happy. Can you believe that I could be happy although so many miles away from you and in a POW camp? Oh yes I can... Oh it is Wonderful and I just cannot go to sleep although I should be according to orders... Lately things have been very difficult. We kept coming against obstacles and many times we came near to despair but Praise be to God Who gives us the Victory!"

He was then interrupted and couldn't complete what he was writing but a few days later he added... "I was sorry I could not put my thoughts down then for now the beauty and lustre has been partly lost. In any case words could never have described in full the grand feeling. It is sacrilege in any case to try and describe in words. I merely now make note of it for I feel you shared that same Heavenly feeling with me and when we do meet (may it be soon Dear Lord) we can think back on Christmas eve 1944." There can always be a Christmas at life's darkest hour. He squeezed goodness out of the circumstances.

On April 29th, 1945 the prisoners of Stalag VIIA were liberated by the advancing American 7th Army. A medical report described the awful conditions:

"One can only say conditions in the barracks were deplorable. Grossly overcrowded and dirty in the extreme. ...There had been no coal in the stalag since the end of February...there was no heating and all fuel for cooking was scrounged...The stalag in the beginning of March contained about 17,000 and was already overcrowded with many sleeping on the floor. Conditions were bad...in South Lager the only water supply was by a motor water tank and there was no lighting... North Lager (had)...one tap for 2000. Conditions became rapidly worse with the constant arrival of new prisoners until finally when released there were some 30,000 people in the stalag." (Maj.L.W.Lauste, 1945)

Nobody should ever be put through such deprivation. Many have been through worse. Emaciated, Dad was taken across to Britain at the beginning of Spring where he was allowed to recover. Dad was back home in Ladysmith by late August 1945. I was born nine months later...a child of the homecoming!

Let us honour our fathers today remembering especially those who might be held hostage or are captive somewhere longing to be home with those they love. They point us to the Heavenly Father.

Service Record:
Disembarked Suez 14th August 1941
Reported Missing 20th June 1942
Confirmed POW 5th September 1942
Released POW arrived at UK 16th May 1945
Disembarked Cape Town 3rd August 1945
Discharged 5th May 1946

See:
Battle of Gazala and the Fall of Tobruk, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Gazala
South Africa, 2nd Infantry Division. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2nd_Infantry_Division_%28South_Africa%29
The Umvoti Mounted Rifles, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Umvoti_Mounted_Rifles
Moosburg, Stalag VIIA, http://www.moosburg.org/info/stalag/indeng.html

Bibliography:
Bosman, John. Providence Was My Guide. Unpublished Manuscript.
Chutter,J.B. 1954. Captivity Captive. London: Jonathan Cape.
Lauste, Maj.L.W. 1945. Medical Report on the Hospital and Camp Stalag VIIA Moosburg Germany, from March 7th, 1945 to April 26th, 1945. AG(POW)1527/VIIA, Military Archives, SADF.
Leigh, M. 1992.  Captives Courageous. Johannesburg: Ashanti Publishing (Pty) Ltd.
Pitts, J. 1989. The Star World War II 1939-1945. Johannesburg: Struik.
Rosmarin, I. 1990. Inside Story. Cape Town: W.J.Flesch & Partners (Pty) Ltd.
Sampson, D. 1981. After Tobruk: The Conducted Tour. Durban: Private















©Colin G Garvie HomePage: http://www.garvies.co.za