One of the things that particularly interests me is how prisoners of war enacted the usual social rituals. Birthdays celebrate life already lived and anticipate future achievements. How were these significant family-and-friend orientated ceremonies marked in captivity? And what did they mean to the prisoners of war?
Physically,
prisoners of war shared the ceremony with their kriegie friends with cake and
parties. Mentally, however, as they wrote about the occasion to their loved
ones, they were transported home through recalling other birthdays or hoping that
future birthdays outside ‘Kriegiedom’ would be different.
In
1942, John Osborne marked ‘Another birthday too, this
one not celebrated at the Piccadilly’. In 1943, he noted to his family that ‘one
certainly finds queer places to celebrate’. ‘I didn’t have much
opportunity to celebrate my birthday, all I did was hope that I don’t spend
another one at this place’, wrote Colin Phelps to his folks. ‘I hope
to celebrate my next birthday with you’, another chap told his parents.
For many, the next birthday wasn’t celebrated with loved ones. On his
first birthday in captivity, Albert Hake found himself ‘indulging
in an idle, fanciful contemplation of circumstances relevant to previous
birthdays (for today is such.)’. He wasn’t carried away by fancy or even moroseness,
however. He ‘honoured the occasion with merry peals of laughter and a grand
festivity, consuming with great gusto a large jelly (strawberry), a larger rice
custard a pint of Horlick’s chocolate malted milk (real milk) plus various odds
and ends’. Hake’s mood wasn’t as festive as his next birthday drew nearer and
he realised he would not be sharing it with his wife. ‘Time will certainly have
to march on if I’m to spend my next birthday at home.’
Parties
were guaranteed to blow away the birthday blues, and cakes were the time
honoured tradition for birthday bashes. George Archer and his roommates
concocted a ‘cake made of pancake mixture and sultanas iced with chocolate’ for
a Canadian celebrating his 23rd. It was a ‘wonderful success’.
Alan
Scanlan was one the Australians who gained their majority in Stalag Luft III. ‘Your son
has crossed the line and is now recognised as a man’, he told his parents. ‘I
wish I could have spent it at home, but circumstances made it impossible.’
Despite being separated from his family, ‘The boys were very thoughtful and
arranged many surprises throughout the day and we spent quite a happy day.’ That
evening, when tea was finished, his crew member Arthur Tebbutt, ‘brought forth
a two-tier chocolate cake complete with twenty one candles’. ‘Tebby’
demonstrated his impressive culinary skills as well as doffing his flight cap to
their shared homeland: ‘The decorations were a white iced border with a small
map of “Aussie” done in white, in the centre of which was a small silver key. “Good
Luck, Alan”, was written in chocolate across the map’. It was an emotional moment.
‘It shook me up, I can tell you, for the boys must have spent considerable time
preparing for the occasion’.
Rex
Austin’s 21st birthday ‘occasion’, mirrored air force initiation ceremonies as
well as some of the traditional (and raucous) rites of passage to adulthood.
‘The boys’ in his room stripped him naked, threw him in the air, bumped him in
the snow, rubbed him down to dry him off, presented him with a key with ‘21 on
it’ and ‘an absolutely magnificent chocolate cake’. They then ceremoniously
‘shook me by the hand and said “Happy 21st I hope you’re not here for your
22nd”’. Austin’s ‘21st was something’, an occasion to remember, made even
special by the sacrifices made by his friends. In a time of almost desperate
rationing in January 1945, ‘the blokes had saved up their semolina and
everything’ to make his cake.
We don’t know if this is a birthday or, given the 1942 decoration, a new year's party, but cake is on the menu. Sadly, it doesn't seem to be cheering Tony Gordon (seated, right hand side) and his friends. (Courtesy of Drew Gordon.)
Cake
was not the only birthday treat. Alex Kerr was depressed at the prospect of
celebrating his 21st in captivity. For him it was nought but a bleak and
dispiriting occasion until he received a ‘truly rare morsel’, an egg extracted
from one of the guards by Stalag IIIE Kirchhain’s most successful traders. ‘I
will never forget the generosity of someone who hardly knew me but considered
that the significance of the occasion demanded a gesture of compassion’.
While
Kerr, Scanlan and Austin experienced the best of human kindness for their
birthdays, Lex Dixon experienced the worst of humanity for his. For ‘something
to look forward to’, he had been saving a potato. (This was before he arrived
in Stalag Luft III.) Every time he came across a bigger
one he swapped it and ate the smaller one. Just before his birthday, when Dixon’s
anticipation was greatest, another prisoner stole the potato and
devoured it. ‘It was the unforgiveable thing for anyone to steal
anything else from a fellow prisoner,’ recalled Justin O’Byrne.
Fortunately,
not every birthday represented the darker side of captivity, but many were not
easy. Some weren’t even worth remembering. ‘It happens to be my birthday today’,
Charles Fry told his fiancée. ‘I had forgotten about it’. Keith Carmody ‘forgot
it was my 26th birthday—am feeling a bit better now—have not spent a birthday
at home since my 20th in 1939’. Despite forgetting, he and a friend had a ‘“bash”
to celebrate’.
Friends
and camaraderie made birthdays worthwhile. So too did the knowledge that their
family and friends remembered them, but ensuring that captive loved ones
received birthday greetings was a lottery. Australia was half a world away, letters
were frequently lost, and delivery was often delayed through censorship or even
punishment or retribution.
Sometimes the family timed their birthday greetings
just right. ‘Red letter day, my birthday, also your letter 2/11, my first from
you’, wrote George Archer to his folks. (Four months later, however, his birthday parcel still hadn’t turned up.) ‘I received your birthday greetings, which
arrived about two days ago, and I was very pleased to receive them, thank you’,
another chap recorded.
Home
is where the kriegies would have preferred to be, but prison camp conviviality and
birthday celebrations demonstrated the strong fraternity, culinary ingenuity of
their roommates and friends, and even personal sacrifice to ensure that the festive
table was well-laden. For many, that strong friendship made captivity bearable.
