Lamsdorf.com

Stalag VIIIB/344 Prisoner of War Camp

John Stephen Morum

From: Roy Morum

Sent: March 17, 2017 5:37 PM

To: '' <>

Subject: 2017-03-17 - POW John Stephen Morum (E579 Niwka – Coal Mine )

Hello,

I am researching my father’s experiences in WW2 and have established that he was held as a POW at Stalag-344, near Lamsdorf (now Lambinowice, in Poland) in what was then known as Upper Silesia.

I have developed a web page in his memory at this link: (register to access) . I am busy transcribing his letters sent from Egypt and have found them to be a fascinating account.

I will be grateful if my father could be honoured on your website by inclusion of his name as one of the POWs.

Here are his details:

No 27820, Sigr John Stephen Morum [signaler] (Born - August 31, 1916) / Deceased- May 26th 2013),

Signals Platoon.,

Umvoti Mounted Rifles, 4th S.A.I.

2 Div U.D.F.,

Middle East Forces.

E579 Niwka – Coal Mine - Work Camp: He was incarcerated here:

The following are excerpts from his own account of events (as told to my sister on 25/8/2006):

“…… Three months after that, in March 1944, I got fed up with waiting for the Allies to arrive and decided to try to get through to them as it seemed that the German patrols were becoming infrequent. However, a few days after I set off I was spotted and taken at gun-point.

I was sent to a dispersal camp in Munich, Austria and then to a coal mining camp near Auschwitz (later I discovered that was where the Germans gassed so many Jews) in Upper Silesia, Poland, to assist the Polish miners. Niwka Grube was the name of the mine.

At that time I was back to my usual weight of 160 lbs thanks to the Red Cross parcels (see a previous page) and what the Italian farmers lived on which was also based on polenta, but supplemented by potatoes and other vegetables, plus a thin stew of whatever meat was available, mainly pork and chicken. Exercise by digging and weeding in the farm fields had also helped.

The Germans fed us adequately in order to enable us to dig coal and provided us with rough overalls. Luckily I still had my army great-coat and boots because winter is severe in that part of Europe, but my socks had worn out long since. In the mine it was of course warm to hot so at the ???-face we just wore overalls and boots.

It was in the mine that I had another narrow shave. I was clearing at the face after the blaster had done his work and one of the miners shouted a warning in Polish. The man next to me jumped back and I was just a bit too slow in doing so. A big solid lump of coal slithered down the slope of the loose face and squashed the top joint of my right-hand index finger. If I had been just a second slower it would have caught my whole hand. I still have the black scar.

In December 1944, the Russians were advancing from the east and the Germans were retreating on all fronts. We, the p.o.ws, were put on the road and were given to understand that we were to head, under the armed guards, for Austria. What the intention was I don't know, but the outcome of the war was by then an inevitable German defeat, so perhaps it had something to do with an exchange of prisoners.

When we left the Niwka camp it was snowing and snow-ploughs had banked up about 5 feet of snow at the road-sides. We slept in barns in the hay and dared not to remove any clothing, especially boots which were frozen stiff. I had wrapped bit of cloth around my feet before we started the march but could not keep my toes from working loose, so they got frost-bitten and ever since they have given me trouble. We had been stumbling along for about 2 weeks when either an American or Russian plane dropped a bomb which fell very close to where I was and blotted out one of the guards and the blast knocked me and two others into the snow at the side of the road. The three of us were dazed and bruised but otherwise intact - we agreed that we had guardian angels!

A week later in January 1945 an American tank suddenly appeared over a rise in front of our marching column. Our guards threw down their guns and disappeared in the opposite direction! The Americans shepherded us to their temporary base camp, took our names and numbers etc., deloused us and flew us to Holland where our clothes were burned, we were fitted out anew by the British after being spray bathed and then flown over to England. There I found my brother waiting for me!!! What a re-union we had! He had been sent by the Germans to a working camp in Holland and liberated about six weeks before I arrived. The South African army representatives in London had been assembling enough of their troops to ship them home. In the meantime my brother Ross had telegraphed our mother about my arrival. He had been staying with our Aunt Florence Morum in her house in Chislehurst, Kent. I stayed there also.”

Congratulations on an excellent and informative website – I will send you some details of interest if I can – as I extend my research.

Regards.

Roy Stephen Morum