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Bio of Bert Markle
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Bert Markle - 2000
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{The following was completed 4 June 2001 by Bert’s son. It is based on
conversations he has had with his Dad and on notes Bert provided in 1999 and
in April 2001}
Background
Herbert (Bert) Markle was born the 2nd of April 1917 in
Bluefield, West Virginia. He distinctly remembers President Roosevelt’s
speech following the Japanese attack at Pearl Harbor. At the time Bert was
student at Virginia Polytechnical Institute (VPI), now Virginia Tech, at
Blacksburg, Virginia.
He
immediately volunteered for the Army Air Corps and eventually entered pilot
primary training at Vernon, Texas. He next completed Basic and Advance
Training in Texas at Randolph Field and Ellington Field, respectively, and
then was sent to B-26 Transition Training at Avon Park, Florida. In/about
October 1943 he joined the 9th Air Force in Ireland as a B-26
pilot. However, while still training in Ireland, the B-26’s were flown on
their first mission and none returned. Bert and the others still in
training were asked to transfer to the 8th Air Force for B-17
training. Due to bad weather he received only eight of fifty hours
scheduled B-17 training before he flew his first mission. They were hit by
flak and fighters and someone was wounded on all his missions. On his
fourth mission the Bombardier was killed and two other crewmen were
wounded. On his fifth mission he flew as the Co-Pilot with a new crew on
their first mission. It was the 6th of March 1944 and the first
mission to Berlin. Enroute they were hit by fighters and flak, lost one
engine and had another damaged and running poorly. They were unable to stay
in formation and descended to tree top level and attempted to return to
England. Inadvertently they flew over a Luftwaffe base and three fighters
took off after them. They shot down two fighters but the third one forced
them to crash, on fire, near Quackenburk, Germany. The Bombardier and Radio
Operator were killed but Bert the other seven crewmen received only minor
injuries and were captured.
They were transported by boxcar to Dulag Luft in Frankfurt, Germany for
interrogation. Bert and the other officers were then sent to Stalag Luft I
near Barth, Germany. There Bert met POW’s Bill Clark and Tom Brooks. They
knew that many tunnels had been and were still being dug at the camp and
that the Germans were always alert for tunnel operations. Bert had the idea
that they could escape by going over the fence using a long board from a
bench to cross from the tops of the double perimeter fences; something the
Germans were not used to. Bill & Tom agreed and the Camp Escape Committee
approved the plan. Their plan was successful in that they made it to the
coastline near Barth by walking all night and arriving just prior to
daylight. They were to steal a boat the 2nd night and attempt to
sail to Denmark. After crawling in a hole to hide during the day, they all
fell asleep. They were awakened at gunpoint by civilians and locked-up in
the local jail. After several interrogations and a couple of weeks in a
Gestapo prison at Stralsund, Germany, Bert was eventually transported to
Stalag Luft III. He remained there until they were marched to Moosburg,
Germany (Stalag VII A) where he stayed until liberation by General Patton’s
troops in April 1945.
After the War, Bert remained in the Reserves until called back to active
duty in early 1953 for Korea. Poor eyesight kept him from returning to
flying status and the War soon ended, but he remained in the Air Force as a
Supply Officer. He later became a Special Weapons Officer. He served tours
of duty in Japan (Misawa AFB and an Army radar site in Sapporo), Germany
(Ramstein AFB), Louisiana (Bossier AFB and Barksdale AFB), Adana, Turkey (Incirlik
AFB), and back to Barksdale AFB where he retired as a Major in 1969. At 84,
he is still “actively” retired (goes to gym at least three days a week) and
lives near the “Shore” at Shark River Hills, New Jersey. It is only within
the last few years that he has begun talking about his POW experiences.
His
Story
Off
to War
I
entered the Army Air Corps in April 1942. The pay was $21.00 with some
deductions. I went to Lackland AFB for Preflight. Then, we went to Vernon,
Texas for Primary Flight School. The next move was to Basic Training at
Randolph field, Texas and advanced multi-engine training. We graduated in
February 1943 and received our commission and wings. Next was to Avon Park,
Florida for transition training to twin engine B-26’s.
As
a B-26 replacement crew we went to Ireland for more training. While there,
the B-26’s flew their first mission to Europe. General Eacker came to
Ireland and told us that no planes returned from that mission. The B-26’s
were put on hold until it could be determined what the problem was. The 8th
Air Force had also been suffering great losses. General Eacker asked us to
transfer to B-17’s. As we were anxious to get into combat most of us agreed
to go to the 91st Bomb Group in England.
We
knew that any crew that completed twenty-five missions would be sent back to
the States. On our first night at the 91st we were at the
Officer’s Club and were shown a plaque for those crews that had completed
the twenty-five missions. There were only four names on it and those were
“Memphis Belle” crewmembers.
We
were supposed to receive fifty hours training in B-17’s. Due to bad weather
we only received about eight hours training before we started flying combat
missions. On all our missions we were hit by flak and fighters and someone
was wounded. On our fourth mission the Bombardier was killed and two
crewmen were wounded.
For my fifth mission I had to fly with a new crew. It was the first time
to bomb Berlin. It was the worst mission the 8th AF ever had.
We were hit by fighters and flak and lost one engine and another was damaged
and running poorly. We could not keep in formation. Before we took off we
had agreed that we would not bail out if the plane could not be kept
formation. We thought we should get as close to the ground as we could as
quick as possible. We put the plane in a steep dive for about10,000 feet
and were barely able to pull it out. We thought we would be safer from flak
and fighters if we were near the ground. We then headed for England flying
just above the trees.
Unfortunately, we flew over a Luftwaffe Base and three German fighters, ME
109’s, took off after us. We shot two of them down and the third one hit
us. We caught on fire and did not have enough power to gain altitude to
bail out. We crash-landed on fire. Two of the crew, the Bombardier and
the Radio Operator, were killed but the other eight of us escaped with only
minor injuries.
Capture
Some civilians captured us almost immediately. They put us in jail for a
couple of days, after giving us a little knocking around. We received two
slices of bread a day but no bed to sleep on. That was the start of
fourteen months of the most horrible existence I could have ever dreamed
of. After a couple of days some Luftwaffe guards walked us through the
little town to the railroad yard. The citizens threw rocks and spit on us.
In
England the British radio and newspapers reported that conditions were so
bad in Germany that they would not be able to last another winter. It was a
shock to see that the German people looked very healthy and well clothed.
The women were wearing silk hose. They looked much better off than the
English did.
The Germans herded us into small boxcars with many other POW’s. There were
about fifty POW’s in one half of the car and four guards in the other half.
It was very cold. The Temperature was near zero. There was no heat and we
had just the clothes we were wearing when we crashed. The Germans had taken
our Air Force jackets.
The boxcar was so crowded that the only men that could sit or lie down were
the ones that were so badly hurt they couldn’t stand up. Some were
seriously hurt and all were in a state of shock. If you had to go to the
bathroom, you went in your clothes. Once they stopped the train we were
allowed to relieve ourselves beside the tracks. That was on the second
day. We also had to sleep standing up.
After several days we arrived Frankfurt, Germany. By that time there must
have been more than a hundred POW’s on our train. The Luftwaffe guards
marched us through the middle of the most bombed city in Germany. The
streets were crowded with people that hit us with sticks and spit on us.
The guards told us to look straight ahead and stay in line.
Dulag Luft in Frankfurt was the interrogation center for the Luftwaffe. We
were treated pretty well. They put our crew in one room and gave us some
hot food and cigarettes. We had a chance to wash up a little and they gave
us each a blanket, but we had to sleep on the floor. We thought the room
was bugged. The IG Farber plant was across the street and was always a
bombing target.
The next day we were interrogated individually by a Luftwaffe officer. I
told him my name, rank and serial number and that’s all. He asked a lot of
questions but I always gave the same answer. He said that if I didn’t
answer all the questions I could be a spy.
After the interview they took me to a room that had a cot and blankets but
no one else in it. I stayed in solitary confinement for several days. I
could only get out to go to the bathroom.
When the guard took me back to the same officer, he said he wanted to read
me the information they had on about me. He wanted me to correct anything
that was wrong so my family could be notified of what had happened to me.
Much to my surprise he knew my father’s and mother’s names and my home
address. He even knew where I attended high school and college, where I had
flight training, and when and where I had been stationed. He also asked me
why I was a B-26 pilot and was shot down flying a B-17. I did not answer
that question.
I
was almost speechless. How could he know all of that about a 2nd
Lieutenant? Later, after I got back to the States, the FBI told me that the
Germans had people in the States that would get information from the local
papers (maybe when I graduated from flying school and got my commission).
The next day a lot of us were marched through Frankfurt and again loaded on
boxcars. After a few days, we arrived at Barth, Germany and Stalag Luft I.
It was supposed to be a model POW camp.
We
had about eight men in a room in a barracks. The room had four double deck
bunks, a potbelly stove, a table and chairs. There was one kitchen in the
barracks and each room had to do their own cooking. We received one Red
Cross parcel per person that had to last about two weeks.
Escape
- See above article for additional details
After about a month and still feeling pretty strong, I decided that I had
to try to escape. In order to do that, you had to have your plan approved
by the Camp Escape Committee. The POW’s had dug and were still digging so
many tunnels that I thought of a plan to go over the fences. It was a
dangerous and complicated plan but along with two other POW’s, Tom BROOKS
and Bill CLARK, we decided to pursue it. Tom spoke German pretty well and
Bill, who was from Brunswick, Georgia, knew a lot about boats.
We
worked out the details (see above article for more specifics) of getting over
the fence without being seen by using a long board from a bench to put
across the tops of the two perimeter fences. The POW’s in the camp would
put the board back on the bench. We would go over the fence after the
evening Roll Call; fifteen minutes before they would normally lock us up in
the barracks. There was a Quonset Hut type of warehouse about twenty yards
outside the perimeter fences. We knew the door was unlocked and we would
hide in that building until night. We would then walk at night down a
railroad track to a small fishing town. The next night we would steal a
boat and go to Denmark.
The Escape Committee approved the plan. Due to seniority, five other
officers tried it first and they all got out of camp. Two men went out one
time and three the next night. The “two” men were going to try to steal a
German fighter from a nearby base. Later, after we escaped, we learned that
the first two men were caught within a couple of hours of their escape. The
other three were also captured.
Before we left, the Escape Committee gave us the necessary maps, escape
rations and a compass. Everything went as planned and we made it to the
warehouse building. After dark we crawled about thirty yards to get farther
away from the fence. While crawling, the search light from the guard tower
went right over my back. I saw the light coming so I had stopped moving. A
few minutes later a guard dog passed about five yards from me. The wind
must have been blowing from the other direction. I had never been more
scared in my life. After that we were able to walk to a single fence about
fifty yards away from the camp. We crossed that fence and found the
railroad tracks we were looking for.
We
walked all night and reached the little seaport just before daylight. We
found a good place to hide in some woods above the town. We got in a hole
in the ground that was about four feet deep and covered ourselves with pine
branches. We were very cold and tired. All three of us went to sleep.
Re-Capture
I awoke to
an old man pressing a pistol against my head. He was shaking so bad that I
thought the pistol would go off. There were several people with guns
standing with him. They roughed us up a little, punched us with pitchforks
and called us “gangsters”. Tom talked to them and convinced them we were
POW’s , not spies, and to call Stalag Luft I. We just wanted to get back in
the hands of the Luftwaffe before the civilians killed us. Tom was able to
talk to the Luftwaffe Intelligence Officer and he told the Burgomaster to
lock us up for our own protection. They took us to the city jail. We
arrived at the jail in a couple of hours. We were later told that a lady
walking her dog had found us.
The Luftwaffe Intelligence Officer, a Captain, interrogated us in the
jail. He recognized my VPI (Virginia Polytechnical Institute) ring and said
he had been in VMI (Virginia Military Institute) at the same time. He said
he had also worked for the Hercules Powder Company at Brunswick, Georgia.
He named people I knew at VMI and places Bill Clark knew about in
Brunswick. He wanted to know how we escaped. We would not tell him. He
was very mad and made all kinds of threats. He left us there overnight.
The next day several Luftwaffe guards arrived and they took us to a large
downtown jail in Stralsund, Germany. Someone told us it was a Gestapo
prison. We were never sure but we think it must have been. We think we
were the only Americans there. They put the three of us in a cell about
eight by twelve feet. The room had no beds, chairs or any piece of
furniture. They took all our clothes except our skivvies. All we had were
a couple of old blankets, a bucket for a toilet and no way to wash
ourselves. We were given two slices of bread a day and a bowl of hot water
with acorns, leaves and twigs that we called “Oak Leaf Stew”.
No
one said what was going to happen to us and no one spoke English. The
Gestapo did not question us. Every day twelve men were taken to the
courtyard and shot. We saw it once then didn’t watch anymore. Someone in
the next cell told us through the window that the people shot were Russian
and French. We never knew who was going to be next.
Our conditions grew worse and we lost track of time. We think we were
there for about three weeks. I did push-ups every day and tried to stay
strong. I had told Bill and Tom that I was not going to let the Germans
take me out to be shot. One morning some guards came to get us and when
they opened the door Bill hit me hard on the back of neck. He probably
saved my life. Luftwaffe guards then took us to the railroad station. We
all took a passenger train to Stalag Luft III. I will never get over my
stay in Stralsund. I had weighed about 155 or 160 pounds when I went in the
prison. I was 128 pounds when I got to Stalag Luft III.
Stalag
Luft III and the “Walk” to Moosburg
When we got
to Stalag Luft III we were put in South Camp and we began the routine life
of a POW. You had to worry about starving to death, freezing or being shot
by the Germans. The other things, like the lack of showers, clean clothes,
shaving, haircuts and getting along with one another just became a way of
life. We walked hundreds of miles around the perimeter of the compound. It
was important to try to keep as healthy as possible because no one knew what
was going to happen to us.
In
January of 1945 we knew the end of the war was near. We did not know if we
would be moved out, liberated or massacred.
We
were given one half hour to abandon camp. We marched out at night in
sub-freezing temperatures and about a foot of snow. We marched continually
for about twenty hours. The suffering was awful. We stopped for four
hours. At about four o’clock in the morning we were ordered out. It was
windy and colder than the day before. We marched for about seven hours.
The conditions were awful and our feet and hands were freezing. A lot more
men had to drop out. Some were picked up by wagons and some must have
died.
Colonel Goodrich, the Senior American Officer, refused to allow the Germans
to march us the next day. We had a day of rest. We continued the march and
often stayed in barns and covered ourselves with manure and hay to try to
stay warm. One time we were put in an empty barracks for the night. I had
saved four pieces of bread so I could have a “party” the next time I ate. I
put the bread in a box under my bed. It was pitch black at night due to the
black out shutters but I woke up to someone under the bed trying to steal my
bread. We got into a fight but were pulled apart by the other POW’s. The
“someone” turned out to be a Colonel and very well known “Ace”, who I will
not name. Colonel GOODRICH talked to me and told me it was probably good I
had not killed the man. He said he did not think it would happen again but
if it did, I knew “what to do”.
About six days later we got to Spamberg and were crowded into boxcars. We
rode for three days and two nights. It was very crowded and we could not
stretch out. We arrived at Stalag VII A, Moosburg, Germany, on the 7th
of February 1945.
We
were given showers and our clothes were fumigated. We were fed some hot
soup. The barracks were cold and damp. Many people had colds and stomach
trouble. Conditions were awful. Two hundred and seventy of us were put in
a tent that was only supposed to have enough room for about sixty.
Liberation
and the Journey Home
We were
liberated on the 29th of April by General Patton's troops.
Before Patton's troops arrived the German SS Troops had replaced the regular
army troops. The regular army troops were prepared to surrender as soon as
the U.S. troops arrived. The SS wanted to fight. The fight lasted about
two hours. It was a day no POW would ever forget.
After the Americans took over they put Military Policemen outside to guard
us and keep us there for our own safety. I didn’t like it there and
convinced another POW that it was not right and that we should leave on
own. He thought the MP’s would shoot us if we tried to leave. We talked to
one of the MP’s. He was also from West Virginia. I asked him if he would
shoot us if we left. He said he was “looking the other way”.
We
went into town. A tank unit came into town and stopped. A Sergeant came up
to us and asked who we were and what we were doing (we were about the only
people standing outside). We told him our story and were talking to him
when an old woman (in reality she was probably in her thirties and just
looked old to us) came up and offered us hot tea. The Sergeant punched her
in the jaw. I couldn’t believe it and asked him what he was doing. He said
she was probably trying to poison us and that we should trust no Germans.
We had told him we really just wanted to eat and get a bath. He took us to
a nearby house and kicked out the couple that was inside. We ate their food
and were able to take baths. The Sergeant said the “Red Ball Express”
truck unit would be coming through soon.
The
Red Ball Express did come and we asked for a ride. We were taken to
Munich. The driver said we should check in with the American Government
Headquarters to make arrangements to get back to the States. We went to
headquarters and introduced ourselves to the CO. When we walked in I saw an
officer working with a radio. He saw me and said “Bert Markle, I’ve been
looking all over Europe for you”. He was Paul BAILEY, an old friend from
Bluefield, West Virginia. He arranged for us to get new dress uniforms,
food, a place to live and transportation.
Four or five days later we were flown with other POW’s to Camp Lucky
Strike. There were about 75,000 Ex-POW’s waiting there for ships to take
them home. I didn’t like it there either. I got with another POW, Quentin
GRAY, and we left on our own and went to Paris. We had some very good
times in Paris but finally left and got a ride on a flatbed truck to the
military airport at LeHarve, France, to see if we could get from there to
England.
I
sent a telegram to my first Co-Pilot, Bill REED, at the 91st Bomb
Group in England; I hoped he might still be there. It turned out he had
completed twenty-five missions, gone back to the States but had recently
returned to the 91st for another tour. He answered my telegram
almost immediately. He was now a Colonel. The next day he flew to LaHarve
in a B-26 and picked up Quentin, me and two other POW’s and flew us all to
an RAF base near South Hampton. He said he could not take us back to the 91st.
We
landed at the RAF base and walked from the end of the runway. The British
Military Police picked us up. We easily convinced them we were American
POW’s and told them we thought it would be better if they could take us to
the American hospital at South Hampton rather than release us to the British
Military. They agreed and took us to the hospital.
We
were at the hospital a couple of weeks then moved to the Savoy Hotel in
London. There were about forty-eight other POW’s in the Savoy and another
sixty, or so, in a different hotel. We had been there about six weeks
waiting for a ship to take us to the U.S. We were all tired of waiting and
I convinced Quentin we should go to the American UK Commander. I figured we
had nothing to loose and since we were POW’s there wasn’t much they could do
to us. We went to his office, by- passed the Secretary and just walked in.
She yelled at us and came in right after us but the General said he would
talk to us. We told him how long we had been waiting and that I had
contacted my Senator. He called in a Colonel and told him he should arrange
for us to get out as soon as possible. The Colonel told him that if we left
sooner than the other POW’s, the others would probably riot. He agreed and
told the Colonel to arrange for everyone to go within forty-eight hours. He
asked us to make sure our Senator(s), families, etc. knew what happened. We
said we would. The Colonel did even better than we expected and we were on
a military ship back to the States the next day.
Rehabilitation
Seeing the
Statue of Liberty after all I had been through was all I could stand. To
talk to the family that I really thought I would never see again was very
emotional.
We
went to Lackland Air Force Base to get a physical exam and be processed.
The doctors said that I was in pretty good shape mentally. We decided that
maybe I would be all right once I got home on leave. They gave me a letter
for the nearest Army hospital in case I did not feel I could make it without
more treatment for what is now called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
When I arrived home I found out that my wife, who I married about a year
before I went overseas, had left home. She had gone to Hollywood for a
screen test that an Army major we knew had arranged for her. The screen
test was a failure. After that she became an Arthur Murray dance
instructor. She did not write to me for the entire time I was imprisoned.
I thought the Germans were holding mail from her because I’d escaped from
Stalag Luft I. I went to Florida where I was stationed before I went
overseas and got a divorce. It proved to be one of the best things I had
ever done.
I
returned home and decided that I needed to be treated in a hospital. I was
not able to talk to anyone about my experience as a POW. I took my letter
and went to the Ashford General Army Hospital at White Sulphur Springs, West
Virginia. I did receive one and maybe two shock treatments and I believe
they did help. After about three weeks of good treatment I returned home in
pretty good shape.
When I was processed out of the Army I signed up to stay in the Reserves.
They told me that no Ex-POW would ever be called up to active duty.
Life
Goes On
In
1947 I married a girl that had been my high school sweetheart. We moved to
Daytona Beach, Florida, had a son and were very happy.
Much to my surprise, about seven years later, I was recalled to active duty
for the Korean War. I could not get out of it. I had to sell my business
in Florida and go to Lackland AFB. As it turned out I enjoyed being in the
Air Force. However, I failed an Air Force eye exam before I got to
helicopter school and was told that since I could not fly they would not
keep me on active duty. Once again I used my Senators and Congressman.
Their involvement resulted in the Air Force reconsidering and keeping me on
active duty as a Supply Officer. The Korean War ended before I could get
there.
My
wife and son also liked the Air Force life and I remained on active duty
until I retired in 1969. We lived in Japan, Germany and Turkey. While in
Germany we adopted a six-year-old German girl. We made a lot of friends and
saw many interesting places. I became a Special Weapons Officer. That job
required a Top Secret Clearance and my duties became much more interesting
and rewarding.
In
1968 I had a one-car accident and was charged with Driving Under the
Influence. With the help of a very fine Base Commander, who was a close
friend, I was admitted to a hospital for treatment of alcoholism. I stayed
there seven weeks. The treatment was successful and I was able maintain my
Top Secret Clearance and return to my previous duties. I have not had a
drink since then.
Later in 1968 my wife had to have an operation. She had been diagnosed
with breast cancer. She suffered tremendously and died in the base hospital
about two months before I retired. My son and daughter, with the help of
some very good friends, brought us through some rough times.
A
couple of years later my sister introduced me to a very nice lady with whom
she worked. We were married in 1973. In addition to a wonderful wife I
also acquired a great stepdaughter and son. They turned out to be two of
the best children I had ever seen. Together with my children we have a very
loving family. My son is now fifty-four and my daughter is forty-eight.
I
had a mild stroke last year but have recovered with only minor
complications. I have just started treatment for what appears to be very
early stages of prostrate cancer. I will always regret that I was unable to
talk about my POW experiences until just the last couple of years. I don’t
think I would have become an alcoholic if I had not been a POW and maybe
talking about it sooner would have helped me avoid that problem. I now
attend two Ex-POW meetings a month at the local VA. I also go to gym and
lift weights at least three times a week and I believe that is helping me
alleviate a hip and knee problem.
I
had no contact with anyone I knew from the POW camps until about thirty
years after the war. I was on the golf course at Patrick AFB in Florida
when someone walking behind me said he thought he recognized me. It was
Hank Spino. He had been one of my roommates at Stalag Luft III and did most
of the cooking for our room. We have kept in touch periodically. Just this
year I have started to try to locate Bill Clark and Tom Brooks, so far
without luck. I have been told that Tom might be deceased. |
