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Prisoners of War in World War II. Loading...
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by Amelia Swift
The picture on the front cover is my great grandad James William Edward Dennis. He was born on February 25th 1926.
He was 13 when the war was declared.
He was 13 when the war was declared.
At the Outbreak of War, he was a telegram boy in London during the Blitz.
He suffered a near miss which left him deafened and suffered with a stutter for a considerable time.
He was 18 years old when he went to war in 1944. The picture of him at the bottom right was taken during his training.
He suffered a near miss which left him deafened and suffered with a stutter for a considerable time.
He was 18 years old when he went to war in 1944. The picture of him at the bottom right was taken during his training.
James as a telegram boy.
I think he was too young to go to war because he could have died.
He lived in Winchester with his parents and enlisted with the Hampshire regiment Platoon C company. His number was 14495529. These are his badges.
He was wounded and taken prisoner on October 28th 1944,
aged just 18 years and 9 months.
The Germans sent him to a Prisoner of War camp, it was called Stalage X1B and his prisoner number was 200084. The pictures below are of the prison camp he was at and the badges he received after the war.
aged just 18 years and 9 months.
The Germans sent him to a Prisoner of War camp, it was called Stalage X1B and his prisoner number was 200084. The pictures below are of the prison camp he was at and the badges he received after the war.
Below is his story that he wrote, in his own words.
Private JAMES WILLIAM EDWARD DENNIS
No. 14495529, 9 Platoon, C. Company
7th. Bn. The Hampshire Regt.
Now The Royal Hampshire Regt.
Date of Birth. February 25th. 1926
Wounded and taken prisoner on October 28th. 1944
Age. 18 years and nine months.
Stalage X1B
Prisoner No. 200084
On October 27. 1944. in a small village of Mook, on the outskirts of Nijmegen, Holland, I was on stand down until morning, after being on duty all day. The Sergeant called to me saying "Sorry Jim grab your bren gun and come quick". I replied that I was on stand down until morning and then I was told. "There's a flap on". There was a large German Patrol coming through on our front, and we had no patrols out. I said, "I had to empty my pockets". "NO time" the Sergeant said. We picked up my number two, Ken Oaten and a lance corporal. Before going out I spoke to the Sgt. of the six pounder gun and the Bren gunner on the other side of the hedge from where we were going out.
No. 14495529, 9 Platoon, C. Company
7th. Bn. The Hampshire Regt.
Now The Royal Hampshire Regt.
Date of Birth. February 25th. 1926
Wounded and taken prisoner on October 28th. 1944
Age. 18 years and nine months.
Stalage X1B
Prisoner No. 200084
On October 27. 1944. in a small village of Mook, on the outskirts of Nijmegen, Holland, I was on stand down until morning, after being on duty all day. The Sergeant called to me saying "Sorry Jim grab your bren gun and come quick". I replied that I was on stand down until morning and then I was told. "There's a flap on". There was a large German Patrol coming through on our front, and we had no patrols out. I said, "I had to empty my pockets". "NO time" the Sergeant said. We picked up my number two, Ken Oaten and a lance corporal. Before going out I spoke to the Sgt. of the six pounder gun and the Bren gunner on the other side of the hedge from where we were going out.
We did make contact with the German's. In fact we came within nine feet of each other. "Jerry", I shouted. They also shouted and all hell let loose. I was hit in the left arm. Right chest by a sub machine gun's bullets. I was laying face down on the ground. The German patrol passed me going towards our lines. Clipped to my belt were a smoke and hand grenade. I threw the hand grenade after the passing patrol, forgetting that the patrol's last man was sweeping their rear. He sprayed me from head to foot on my right side. I could feel the earth hitting my face. Three bullets hit my right thigh and one cut the steel heel clip on my boot.
On their return, the German patrol took one arm apiece and ran towards their lines. The buttons on my overcoat started to come undone, and they soon found that they only had an overcoat. They soon found me again, as our lines were sending up lights. As they were running and dragging me back to their lines I felt no pain. It was like floating on air, and I remember seeing all my family sitting around a fire at home. It was as if I was an onlooker.
When we reached their H.Q. they laid me on a table to wait for interrogation. By now it was two or three o clock in the morning. No attempt was made to dress my wounds. Two German officers had a large book with all of the British Tank and Division signs in it. I was dumb and naive as a British soldier can be on such occasions. Later I was put on a stretcher. Four soldiers carried me at shoulder height through the woods to their dressing station, where I waited for my turn to be dressed.
They cut my clothes from my body to clean my wounds. No anaesthetic was used. I watched them clean and plug my chest wound and saw them put the first stitch in, with a large instrument before I passed out. I came to while they were bandaging my leg with paper bandages. I knew no more until I came to, laying on the floor of a church with the other wounded British and German soldiers.
On their return, the German patrol took one arm apiece and ran towards their lines. The buttons on my overcoat started to come undone, and they soon found that they only had an overcoat. They soon found me again, as our lines were sending up lights. As they were running and dragging me back to their lines I felt no pain. It was like floating on air, and I remember seeing all my family sitting around a fire at home. It was as if I was an onlooker.
When we reached their H.Q. they laid me on a table to wait for interrogation. By now it was two or three o clock in the morning. No attempt was made to dress my wounds. Two German officers had a large book with all of the British Tank and Division signs in it. I was dumb and naive as a British soldier can be on such occasions. Later I was put on a stretcher. Four soldiers carried me at shoulder height through the woods to their dressing station, where I waited for my turn to be dressed.
They cut my clothes from my body to clean my wounds. No anaesthetic was used. I watched them clean and plug my chest wound and saw them put the first stitch in, with a large instrument before I passed out. I came to while they were bandaging my leg with paper bandages. I knew no more until I came to, laying on the floor of a church with the other wounded British and German soldiers.