POST 181: JOE POWELL, ESCAPEE FROM A GERMAN STALAG WITH MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN HEINZ LÖWENSTEIN

Note: The son of an English prisoner of war whose father Joe Powell escaped from German Stalag VIIIB with my father’s first cousin Heinz Loewenstein recently contacted me. He shared some firsthand facts told to him by his father about their escape and eventual recapture.

Related Posts:

POST 137: MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN HEINZ LÖWENSTEIN: DISCOVERING HIS WHEREABOUTS DURING WORLD WAR II

POST 137, POSTSCRIPT-MY FATHER’S FIRST COUSIN HEINZ LÖWENSTEIN, DISCOVERING HIS WHEREABOUTS DURING WWII—ADDITIONAL FINDINGS

POST 163: THE WARTIME ESCAPADES OF HEINZ LÖWENSTEIN, FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN’S BROTHER

POST 163, POSTSCRIPT: THE WARTIME ESCAPADES OF HEINZ LÖWENSTEIN, FEDOR LÖWENSTEIN’S BROTHER

 

Through my blog, I was recently contacted by an English gentleman named John Powell. His father, known familiarly as “Jack Powell,” but referred to as Joe Powell in a few books discussing prisoners of war from the English Commonwealth interned in German stalags, is a name I immediately recognized. In January 1943, Joe Powell escaped from a work camp connected to Stalag VIIIB in Lamsdorf [today: Łambinowice, Poland] with my father’s first cousin, Heinz Loewenstein. (Figure 1) Regular readers will recognize my father’s cousin name as I’ve discussed him in multiple posts. (Posts 137, 137-Postscript, 163, and 163-Postscript)

 

 

Naturally, John Powell contacting me provided an opportunity to obtain a few additional details about his father’s wartime escapades. Regrettably, Joe Powell left no memoir or diary of his experiences, and, like his comrades, rarely spoke of them. However, John mentioned a book by Chris Goss, entitled “It’s Suicide But It’s Fun: The Story of 102 (Ceylon) Squadron, 1917-1955,” that includes a few anecdotes his father related to the author, whom he knew. 

At my request, John sent me a picture of his father in his flying gear taken circa 1942. (Figure 2) John also shared copies of two letters he obtained from the United Kingdom’s Air Ministry. (Figures 3-4) They describe where his father and a fellow RAF airman named Brian Treloar were shot down over the Netherlands on the night of July 8/9, 1942, and the Dutch farm where they landed by parachute. Fascinatingly, one of the documents was from the local mayor in Pieterburen, Eenrum, the Dutch town where the airmen came down. According to the letter, after landing they handed the farmer a scrip of paper with their names which he promptly hid and that was only rediscovered in 1950. The farm is where they remained hidden for a short period before they were taken captive by the Germans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

John learned that the farm where the two RAF airmen landed is still owned by the same family. When the plane Joe Powell was flying on was hit, he was wounded in the leg by shrapnel, the fragments of which were never removed and, surprisingly, never caused him any problems. The shrapnel came to light during a routine X-ray later in life and was a cause of great interest amongst the doctors who treated him. 

Suffice it to say, these letters John generously shared bring the past to life in a way that is especially intriguing to me as a retired archaeologist; rarely am I provided such an up-close glimpse into the past. 

In Post 137, I included an extensive passage from a book by Cyril Rofe entitled “Against the Wind” describing Joe and Heinz’s escape. I quote it again here: 

“The first pair to escape were Joe Powell and Henry Löwenstein. Tall and ginger haired, Löwenstein had been brought up in Danzig and spoke perfect German. They had already been on one working party, which had been no use from their point of view. They had managed to get themselves sent back to the Stalag and then volunteered to come to Tarnowitz. As soon as they arrived, they wanted to be away. They were not fussy about their clothes, and it was easy enough to collect together all they needed. By the end of February they were ready to go. [EDITOR’S NOTE: BASED ON HEINZ’S PERSONALKARTE, WE KNOW HEINZ AND JOE WERE READY TO MAKE THEIR ESCAPE ATTEMPT AT THE END OF JANUARY 1943 RATHER THAN THE END OF FEBRUARY 1943] 

On the morning of their escape they wore their civilian clothes under their battledress and overcoats. When groups left camp the men were always counted by the duty clerk, who handed them over to the guards, who also counted them. The guards were then responsible for the men until they handed them back to the duty clerk in the evening. The group to which Powell and Löwenstein belonged were working on the line just outside Beuthen station, about 10 miles from the camp, and travelled there and back by train each day. At the end of the day the Unteroffizier in charge always counted them before they got on the train for the return journey. 

Joe Powell and Löwenstein had no difficulty in getting away at Beuthen. [Figure 5] Finding a quiet corner they slipped out of their Army clothes and walked away as civilians. They boarded a tram outside the station and travelled to Gleiwitz, where they caught a train to Danzig. None of the guards noticed their absence during the day. When the train arrived in the evening the men fell in quickly, the Palestinian corporal counted them rapidly and gave the full number as present. Before the guards had a chance to check the count the men broke off and clambered on to the train.

 

 

The Unteroffizier said nothing. Judging by his subsequent behaviour he had his suspicions but was not anxious to confirm them. He was a wily old fellow. When they reached camp he counted the men quickly, gave the same number as he had taken over in the morning and dismissed the men before the duty clerk had completed his check. The men broke off and entered the camp, while the clerk accepted the Unteroffizier’s figure as correct. The Unteroffizier had covered himself against blame. 

Every night there was Appell (roll-call) in each of the barracks, the men falling into five ranks to be counted. That night Kaplan came around as usual with the Feldwebel and a guard, whose duty it was to count the men by walking along in front of them, checking that there were five in each file. Kaplan had it all carefully arranged. When he and the two Germans entered the barrack in which Joe and Löwenstein had slept, the men in the front rank were standing close together to prevent the guard from noticing the two empty places at the end of the rear rank. Kaplan talked to the Feldwebel, blocking his view while the guard started his count. As soon as he had passed the first few files, two men in the rear rank ducked low, ran quietly long the back, fell in again at the other end, and were counted a second time. The guard reported the correct number present and the Feldwebel was satisfied. 

This was on Monday night. The next morning Kaplan, who arranged all the work lists for each day, marked the two escapees down on the light-duty list, so that they did not have to report for work at Beuthen. Kaplan kept them covered up until the following Friday, on which day I myself was working at Beuthen. During the lunch-hour the Unteroffizier came into the hut and asked for Löwenstein and Joe, the second by the name he had adopted. On being told they were sick he grinned all over his face and went out again. Apparently the Feldwebel had telephoned to ask if they were there. 

When we arrived back at camp we heard that during the morning a telephone call had come through to the Feldwebel enquiring whether he had had anybody escape from the camp. On his answering in the negative, he learned that the police in Danzig had picked up two men using those names who claimed to have escaped from Tarnowitz. When the Feldwebel checked up he found the two men were missing and nobody had the slightest idea when they had left or how. 

An officer came to investigate. The Feldwebel accused Kaplan of being responsible for this outrage, affirming that it was Kaplan’s duty to work with him, not against him and threatened to get even with him. This was right up Kaplan’s street. Not only did he inform the Feldwebel that he actually had helped the men to escape, but he added that he considered it his duty as a British solider to help anybody else who wished to escape and that he would do so whenever he could. Furthermore, he said, it was the Feldwebel’s job to guard us, not his, and the Feldwebel need expect no more cooperation from him until he apologized! Fortunately the officer agreed that Kaplan had only done his duty and managed to preserve the peace. 

Kaplan had told them that Joe and Löwenstein had escaped on Monday, although he did not tell them how, and that he had covered them up ever since. They flatly refused to believe such a thing was possible until Kaplan showed them how he had done it. 

There were no repercussions in the camp, except that thereafter the Feldwebel counted us himself at night, and for some days he and Kaplan were not on speaking terms. Kaplan refused to have anything more to do with the worklists. The result was chaotic, and within a week the Feldwebel was back begging to be ‘friends as before.’ This sounds fantastic, but it happened. Only a Kaplan could have brought it off, but knowing Kaplan one did not expect less. He was tall and bulky, and when one saw him ordering the Germans around he looked a veritable Gulliver among pygmies.” 

John provided a few more details about his father’s escapades. Apparently, the Germans did not detail RAF airmen to work camps. Knowing that escape from the work camps was easier and not wishing escaped RAF airmen to successfully rejoin the war effort, they were kept together in separate barracks and not assigned to work camps. Nonetheless, Joe Powell was successful in swapping identities with a regular English soldier, which allowed him to gain an outside assignment. He appears to have escaped on at least two occasions from work camps, including the one time he escaped with my father’s first cousin, Heinz Loewenstein. 

There appear to have been at least two things that worked in Heinz’s favor during his five or six escape attempts, unsuccessful ones mind you. He was born in Danzig [today: Gdańsk, Poland], and therefore spoke fluent and unaccented German. Secondly, according to various contemporary accounts, detailed in other posts about Heinz Loewenstein, he was a master forger able to authentically replicate official documents. 

Given Heinz’s familiarity with the Baltic port city of Danzig, Heinz forged papers saying they were Belgian dock workers. The Germans were known to use foreign non-Jewish nationals for various tasks, so these identities made sense. For obvious reasons, during the train ride to Danzig Heinz did all the talking. According to John Powell, his father and Heinz miraculously managed to infiltrate the docks in Danzig upon their arrival there. They were hiding and waiting to sneak onto a Swedish ship when they were discovered. 

I presume they were captured by a Wehrmacht soldier rather than by the Gestapo, the latter of whom were known to treat captured soldiers much more brutally and lethally. I say this because the German officer in charge burned their fake IDs, telling them they would otherwise be treated as spies, then tortured and killed. 

John’s mother recalled receiving a letter from her husband during his captivity. While she recognized the handwriting and knew the letter was from him, she did not recognize the addressee’s name, evidence Jack Powell had assumed a false identity. 

In closing, I will simply emphasize something I’ve previously alluded to, namely that gaining information about one’s ancestors may come from unexpected sources. What makes the kernels so intriguing is they enrich one’s understanding of the challenges our ancestors faced, particularly in uncertain and dangerous times.