Harold Soderlund Story to end of World War 11 Early Years I was born in 1921 on a farm near Sturgis, Saskatchewan. My parents immigrated from Sweden to.

Harold Soderlund Storyto end of World War 11

Early YearsI was born in 1921 on a farm near Sturgis, Saskatchewan. My parents

immigrated from Sweden to Minneapolis about 1910 and were married there. After about a year they moved to Sturgis and took up a homestead near my uncle who had arrived about 1905.

I attended a small country school about a mile from home until grade eight and then stayed in Sturgis for my High Schooling to Grade 12. My dad was a small building contractor and had built a cafe for a chinaman in town and that is where I stayed for the school term.

Like many others my age I grew up during the depression years of the 1930s. Men travelled about the country looking for work. Often they would split wood or do some chore for a meal. Living on a farm we had ample food and fed those who came to our door. “Riding the rods” was a means of travel for the job seekers.

My brother and I after school and on holidays built a log cabin near a lake bordering our farm. I think I inherited the need to build things from Dad.

• The Log Cabin

AFTER HIGH SCHOOL

• When the Second World War started in 1939 the Government of Canada established the Dominion Provincial Youth Training Plan and young men who wanted to join the air force could obtain training as mechanics. I decided that this was an opportunity to escape the tedium of sitting behind four horses (the view was uninspiring) and riding a cultivator or plough. I and another chum made our way to the nearest rail line and climbed aboard a freight train to Saskatoon. There we entered the six months course and learned to do some welding, lathe work and studied some aircraft engines. This first taste of city life was new and here I listened to a big band live for the first time at a dance hall. I still remember one of the tunes but I have forgotten the name of it.

AIR FORCE TRAINING IN CANADA

• Following successful completion of the DPYTP training at the Saskatoon Technical Collegiate I joined the Royal Canadian Air Force and went to a Manning Depot at Brandon Manitoba. This is where one first encountered military discipline, guard duty, and route marches, not quite the glamorous activities one had in mind when signing on the dotted line. Fortunately it was short-lived and I was posted next to St Thomas, ON where in a former Insane Assylum (Yes, it had bars on the windows) the Air Force lodged their recruits for further training. I remember the long line ups winding along tunnels to the mess hall. The training here taught one about the innards of Royce Rolls aircraft engines and all about keeping them in flying condition.

A week end pass allowed one to check out the amenities of the town and also to take the London and Port Stanley railway to London. Here we had to opportunity of dining with some of the local citizens. I remember the hostess was a palm reader. I think she knew I was from the farm.

Yorkton Service Flying School

• I graduated from the St Thomas Aero engine training course and was posted to Yorkton, Saskatchewan, a mere 20 minutes by air from my home. Ground crew were permitted to fly as a passenges occasionally on test flights perhaps to encourage through work on the engines. At Yorkton SFTS recruits trained to be pilots on Harvard training planes. They had already completed initial training on biplanes. The Harvard was a good plane for aerobatics and I experienced my first x gravity as the plane pulled out of a loop. A waggle of the wings as the plane buzzed my home and I looked down with some snuggness on the fields where I had toiled. The exhubrance of being airborne was enough to convince me I should re-muster to aircrew and fortunately for me I was able to do so.

• In the fall of 1942 I received initial flying training a Rivers, Manitoba. After about nine hours of instruction you do the solo flight. They say if you can walk away from it it; is a good landing but the plane better be in the same shape you took it out. The initial flying training planes were the biplane Tiger Moth.

Tiger Moth

Claresholm Service Flying Training

• In the fall of 1942 after a brief visit home I travelled by train to Clareshome, Alberta where I was trained on the twin-engined Cessna Crane, reputedly to be constructed of a soft brown substance, shims, and shellac. Seriously, it was a fine aircraft and I was able to impress my instructor with a flawless touch down on the flight test that counted. My recollections are of the Rocky Mountians nearby, the snow covered plains below with antelope scurryng about. After about 60 hours of flying training I was awarded my pilots wings and a commission as a Pilot Officer.

• In February of 1943 I was sent to Summerside, Prince Edward Island for a six week course in aircraft navigation and then I was posted overseas.

Harvard Trainer

Cessna Crane

Operational Training in England

• In the spring of 1943 I received operational training on the Beaufighter a twin-engined night and day fighter carrying four 20 mm cannon and eight armour piercing or explosive head rockets or a torpedo. This aeroplane was called the whispering death by the enemy because of the low engine noise.

• The Beaufighter had two Bristol Hercules engines each with 1400 horsepower. The maximum speed was 330 miles per hour.

• The crew consisted of the pilot and a navigator/gunner. A machine gun was mounted in the navigators compartment for defence against attack from the rear.

• My training on the Beaufighter included cross-country navigation, air to air firing with a cine camera and night flying exercises. On one cross-country flight I returned to base and as I approached to land I saw a red signal to go around again. As I pushed the throttles forward the starboard engine failed and I was forced to trim the aircraft to fly on one engine. On my second approach when I lowered the landing gear it failed to lock down. The result was a sinking feeling as the plane touched the ground. The plane slid to a halt in the grass off the runway. It was obvious the propellers would need some straightening and I could add to my flying experience.

The Beaufighter

Operations against the Enemy

• In January 1944 I was posted to 603 City of Edinburgh Squadron flying from Gambut airdrome in Lybia. It was the job of 603 Squadron to attack enemy shipping and facilities in the Aegean Sea. The Germans were evacuating Crete at this time by sea and air. On one raid on an enemy radar station on the south coast of Crete I returned to base with a bullet hole through the fuselage just aft of my Navigators position. On returning from another night mission my Beaufighter was caught in a thunder head and lifted into a stall position. As the plane dived and emerged below the cloud I was able to pull out in time to avoid crashing into the sea. This is called experience in flying and is not taught in class.

Libyia, Crete Area

Shot Down into the Sea of Crete.• I was the pilot of a Beaufighter of 603 Squadron based in North Africa not far from Tobruk in

1944. The mission of our squadron was to attack enemy aircraft and shipping and communications.

• On the night of August 30th, my navigator, Sergeant Ian Nichol and I were assigned to patrol the Aegean Sea north of Crete. The enemy was evacuating the island of Crete at this time.

• At the half-way point of our patrol and at an altitude of 200 feet I set a course for the homeward journey and coincidentally this provided a brilliant full moon path ahead of our aircraft.

• As if in an aircraft recognition class, the silhouette of a Junkers 52 passed across the moon path at a distance of perhaps 2,000 feet. The training and discipline that soldiers, sailors, and airmen undergo instill a sense of duty and without hesitation I turned the Beaufighter in pursuit of the enemy aircraft.

• Ian Nichol soon made radar contact and began to read off closing distances. As soon as I was able to discern the gray shape of the Junkers 52 I swung the gunsight into position in front of me and lowered speed since our aircraft was much faster. When the wingspan of the Junkers 52 filled the firing circle on the gunsight I pressed the 20-mm cannon-firing button. Tracers streamed out ahead and I turned sharply to port to break off the attack. I doubt that the enemy aircraft was hit and events that followed precluded any further investigation.

Junkers 52

Shot Down into the Sea of Crete (cont)

• In turning to port to break off the attack our Beaufighter almost collided with another Junkers 52 flying in the opposite direction to the first one. At this point I made the mistake of continuing in pursuit of the second Junkers. Bullets from his rear gun hit our port engine and it quickly lost power. I attempted to feather the propeller to reduce drag, at the same time straining to keep the aircraft flying straight against the pull of the still functioning starboard engine. The propeller did not feather and I could see flames at the back of the port engine. All my thoughts and energy were now concentrated on keeping the Beaufighter flying but a slight bump at the back of the aircraft meant the tail end had touched the water. Moments later the Beaufighter slid onto the water. I hit my head on the windscreen as the aircraft came to a sudden stop with the nose in the water. I quickly opened the overhead escape hatch and hit my parachute and seat belt release button and climbed out on the wing. Ian Nichol was already there.

Shot Down into the Sea of Crete

• In a matter of seconds the Beaufighter sank beneath us and I inflated my Mae West life jacket and Ian’s. The water of the Aegean Sea at this time of year is not cold and we were not uncomfortable.

• It happened that a one-man dinghy, either mine or Ian’s had floated out of the aircraft and this was another of the fortunate circumstances that contributed to our survival. We inflated it and climbed in. My feet dangled in the water.

• A fully lit Hospital ship was passing some distance away and we tried attracting attention with one of the small lights aboard the dinghy but to no avail. The enemy aircraft circled a couple times with a landing light on but did not see us.

• A couple of days later when our dinghy had drifted toward the occupied town of Candia on Crete a German patrol boat came out and picked us up.

• We had survived the rather heavy odds of crashing into the sea at night.• I am proud that I carried out my duty to the best of my ability and I am thankful that neither I

nor Ian suffered debilitating injuries.

Prisoner of War

• In the late evening of the day of our capture we were placed aboard a Junkers 52 with German soldiers being evacuated from Crete. The plane took us to Athens fortunately without any encounters with 603 Squadron aircraft.

• At the school building where I was held prisoner, my guard a former school teacher confided in me that in Germany at this time if you were told that black was white you had better believe it.

• After a week I and others prisoners were placed a board a train bound for Salonika, Greece. The train travelled at night without lights. At one point when the train was travelling slowly I decided to try escape thru a small window near the top of the carriage. As I was getting up to the window a shout from some Russian prisoners alerted the guard. I quickly dropped back down and I heard the click of a rifle bolt. No light came on and the incident passed. I often wonder if I had made it out how this story may have changed.

• At the prison compound at Salonika we were joined by several P-38 Lightning pilots who were shot down while attacking aerodromes in the vicinity. The German guards said they were Chicago gansters.

• The forward compartment of a transport truck was our accommodation for the next leg of a journey which took us to Skopjle. Bulgaria. We arrived at a aerodrome in time to see several Junkers 87 Stuka dive bombers dive on the aerodrome and drop their bombs. The guards had taken us outside the aerodrome as the sirens sounded. It was and encouraging sign. We learned that the planes were captured from the Germans and flown by Romanian pilots who had by this time been liberated.

Enroute to Stalag Luft 3

• The aerodrome at Skopjle, Bulgaria was quickly repaired after the Stuka dive bomber raid and after sunset I was placed aboard a Junkers 52 again with German soldiers and the plane took off. The journey was not without excitement. At one point the plane was rocked by bursting anti–aircraft fire.

• The flight landed at Zagreb in Yugoslavia and I was put in holding room. Later that same day I was put aboard a passenger train which took me to Budapest, Hungary. There was a tourist aspect to this journey because I could observe the scenery in the lovely countryside. Crossing the Danube River it was noticeable that some repairs were done to the bridge. I soon found myself in a narrow cell at the Budapest penitenatiary. On the way in a guard relieved me of a shirt I had under my arm.

• After a few days I was place aboard a 40 man or four horses carrige along with other prisoners and the train headed westward. In a couple of days the train arrived at Frankfurt which was the interrogation centre for aircrew prisoner. I saw at this time the rubble of bombed out buildings first hand.

• The interrogation officer suggested that since I had no identification that I could be turned over to the Gestapo. After getting only my name rank and number I think he decided he knew more than I did. He told me that my flight commander had been promoted to squadron leader. Silently I was impressed. After a week I found myself aboard another train headed for Stalag Luft 3.

STALAG LUFT 3

• I arrived at Stalag Luft 3 about a month after I was shot down so that would be sometime around October the first.

• The camp had a library of storts and one could exercise within the camp grounds. Food consisted of a dark, heavy bread and a thin soup once a day. The International Red Cross was allowed to bring in concentrated food parcels approximately 10 inches square by 3 inches deep once a month and this was a godsend. As I recall we could send out one letter a month.

• Showers were cold water, our beds were straw mattresses on wood slats.• A clandestine radio procured by some ingenious prisoners provided news which was passed

around in a book. We knew of the crossing of the Rhine at Reymegan.• In February the Russians were approaching Stalag Luft E and so prisoners marched to various

destinations. The group I was with spent about five days to reach Luckenwald, a city south of Berlin. We could hear the bombing of Berlin. About the end of April the Russians were nearing Luckenwald and soon a Russian tank came and knocked down the gate and we were able to get out in the countryside. An American convoy of trucks came to take us away but the Russians refused to let us go. It was not till a week or so later that agreement by the Russian and Allied generals allowed our return to western Germany and evacuation to Britian. The war was over and the next move was back to Canada!

Harold Soderlund POW