20th January, 2025 in Biography & Memoir, Military

‘we closed our eyes to the blizzard …’ Sergeant Fred Hooker’s memory of the Long March

By Victoria Panton Bacon

‘Before leaving, we were issued with rations for about two and half days. The weather was terrible, and very, very cold. We arrived at a place called Winterveldt. We had covered a distance of about twenty miles and our resting place was a barn with cold floors, with just a bit of hay. On 20th January, we were on the road again, at 5 am. It was snowing … eventually we were allowed to rest again at roughly 10 am, this time at an old dis-used brickworks. Just imagine, hundreds of us, jostling for a place out of the wind to rest (and find a place for nature comforts) – and as soon as it got dark, we were ordered to move on.’

This is the true recollection of Sergeant Fred Hooker, upon leaving Stallag Luft VII, a German prisoner-of-war camp, in the early hours of 19th January, 1945. Sgt Hooker had been captive there since 12th September the previous year, taken after parachuting from the Halifax heavy bomber in which he was upper gunner was attacked, whilst on a bombing raid over Munster, in western Germany. Both the tail gunner on the aircraft and the pilot were killed, failing to escape in time, consumed by the flames. Hooker was reunited the following day with two of his other crew members – Charlie, the flight engineer, and Taffy, the bomb aimer. After a long journey partly on foot and partly on uncomfortable trucks and a train, with little to eat except dry black bread, the three found themselves at Stallag VII, where they were to spend the next four months: until their release into the freezing night air on 19th January the following year, as the Second World War was drawing to a close.

This year will be a busy year of remembrance of the Second World War because of the anniversaries that will – rightly – be marked; not least 8th May will be the eightieth anniversary of VE day, marking the end of the conflict in Europe, followed by VJ day in August – the end of the war in the Pacific, even more significantly marking the end of the entire conflict. Going further back, we will also remember the 85th anniversary of the Battle of Britain which took place between the middle of July and end of October in 1940; and the 85th anniversary of the Evacuation from Dunkirk at the end of May/beginning of June – when over 330,000 British troops were rescued from France as it fell into German occupation.

I could list so many more turning points of the conflict, of course; markers of the war that changed the course of history and can be illustrated through remarkable acts of individual courage, military strategy or in some cases simple good fortune. It is vital that we do keep WWII in our minds; the service of millions – for many very painful service indeed – who gave us (the sadly only relative perhaps) peace that we have today. Sergeant Fred Hooker (who has now died) is but one of those millions. Fred told me about his capture as a P-o-W, and his release from Stallag VII for my book Remarkable Journeys of the Second World War*, which contains eleven true memories of the war, all equally remarkable, and extraordinary.

Fred, and a further 1,600 or so inmates from Stallag VII, were part of what is now known as the ‘Long March’ together with over 80,000 prisoners of war held at many other camps, that took place between January and April 1945. The prisoners were released by the Russians who, by this point, were successfully pushing into the eastern front; resulting in the German authorities deciding to evacuate the camps. Fred’s release (and that of his comrades) was in the early hours of 19th January, 1945.

The conditions of the ‘march’ were brutal, so tortuous that over 2,000 men perished en route. For miles they endured blizzards, with the temperature falling to below minus twenty; inadequate clothing offered little protection; they were given little, or no, food, forced to eat whatever they could find – cats, rats, grass and raw sugar beet. Many were ill with dysentery, malnutrition, frost-bite and hypothermia. They were afforded very little sleep and rest, too, occasionally stopping for a few hours in empty barns, sheds and warehouses along the way – as and when permitted by the German guards who pushed them along as quickly as they could.

Fred’s journey on foot ended on 5th February – with a transfer for the next stage of his ‘return home’ to a cattle truck, onto which he was loaded with his comrades, squashed ‘like sardines’ into conditions he described as “not fit for animals, let alone human-beings.’ This horrendous journey lasted for about three days, culminating in their arrival at another camp, Stallag III; where they stayed until their eventual release by American troops three long months later, on 5th May.

Fred was taken then to Brussels, where he was lavishly fed and luxuriated in the joy of sleeping in a proper bed, before being flown home, for his recovery to begin.

As ever, through the troubled times that we are living in today, we can and must draw strength from the courage and resilience of Sergeant Fred Hooker, and millions just like him.