An Ordinary Man - by Sue Purkiss

 

 

In my book, recently published by Writers Review, the hero, Harry Pilgrim, was captured back in May 1940 on the way to Dunkirk. By this time - the end of September - he is in a POW camp in Poland, in what is now called Torun but which was then known by its German name, Thorn.

He, and many others, reached the camp after a punishing march across the north of France in the summer heat. They were given very little food: they slept in the open, occasionally in barns. If you couldn't keep going, you were shot. They didn't know where they were going or what was going to happen to them. They eventually reached Trier, in Germany, where the streets were lined with scarlet banners emblazoned with swastikas and the people jeered and pelted them with stones and rotten vegetables. Then they were crammed into cattle trucks and entrained to Poland.

Much later, when things were more organised, their families would be notified where they were, and they would begin to receive letters from home and Red Cross parcels which would augment their meagre rations. They would be sent out on work parties - some of which weren't too bad: my father, on whom Harry is very loosely based, really quite enjoyed working as a forester.

But for now, there was nothing to do, except to sit around and wonder just how it was that they'd ended up here - wherever 'here' was.

My father - and Harry - came from Ilkeston, an industrial town between Derby and Nottingham. His father, who had worked at Stanton Ironworks, died of lung disease when Dad was about 14, which was also when he left school, leaving a wife and six children - five girls and Dad, the second youngest. They were a close family. The older girls were already working and bringing in money, which was just as well, because there was no other money coming in.  Dad worked in a coal yard - there were lots of pits around - eventually graduating to driving a lorry. When the war started and he joined up, that's what he did - drove a lorry in the Royal Army Service Corps.

When I began to work on this book, it really struck me what a culture shock the war must have been for a twenty year-old who had never been further from home than on a church trip to Blackpool. Would he even have known where Poland was? Would he have had any idea what had led to the war - apart, of course, from what he'd seen on news reels at the cinema? (To which, in any case, as the son of an evangelical family, he was not supposed to go.)

What a setting in which to do his growing up. But there he was, as were so many others, for five years.

He came through. But not without scars.

To find out more about Harry and what happened to him, you can find the book here.

And to all those of you who have read the book already, and sent kind messages or written reviews - thank you!