Book Review: Prisoners of the Castle: An Epic Story of Survival and Escape from Colditz, The Nazi’s Fortress Prison by Ben McIntyre

This was a disturbing and compelling read. Compelling because Ben McIntyre told one story of World War II: the prison camps, the treatment of prisoners, the attempts to get food supplies in by the Red Cross, the underground networks of resistance fighters in towns, villages and abroad. Disturbing because of the parallels I could see to any war zone, and specifically to today’s global troubles. 

In October 1939, the German Army established OFlag IV C prisoner of war camp in Colditz Castle. It held the most recalcitrant and defiant Allied prisoners. The intent of most of the prisoners was escape. Ben McIntyre takes us inside Colditz to tell us all the ways and means that the men used to attempt to escape. Only a few were successful and one man was shot in his attempt to escape. This book is complete with photos of the men, maps of the inside of Colditz Castle, maps of Europe with the escape routes and the many hidden rooms, the various pieces of paper and wood used for the construction of identification cards and fake guns. Besides the escape attempts, there was a wide range of activities for entertainment: plays and lectures put on by the prisoners. Due to a lack of women, men were dressed and dolled up for parts that required a woman. Some prisoners, called the Prominente, were Allied soldiers of good parentage or stature believed to be ‘bargaining chips’. They were given their own tiny rooms, got marginally better food and were carefully protected from escape. 

In 1945, the Allied prisoners traded places with their jailers as the war was coming to an end. The American troops, young men in their 20’s, were approaching the castle preparing an assault to overtake it, when they realized that the men in charge were the Allied prisoners. The German soldiers were turned over without a shot being fired to the arriving American troops.

The photo on the front of the book cover is of six of the men who did survive Colditz Castle. Their post war history is also included at the end of the book. Author Ben McIntyre’s writing held my attention and my interest. It was not all about escape but about the characteristics of the men on either side of the war. 

“In the intimate confines of Colditz, that enemy was becoming ever more familiar. On a battlefield, the foe is anonymous. 

In a prison, he has a face, a name and a personality.”

~ Ben McIntyre, Prisoners of the Castle, 

An Epic Story of Survival and Escape from Colditz, 

The Nazi’s Fortress Prison

Title: Prisoners of the Castle: An Epic Story of Survival and Escape from Colditz, The Nazi’s Fortress Prison

Author: Ben McIntyre

Copyright: 2022

Publisher: Penguin Random House

Format: Hard copy

Type: Historical non-fiction

ISBN: 978-0-7710- 0198-0

ebook ISBN: 978-0-7710- 0198-7

Chapter Two, Episode 156 - Two Men Talking - Situationally Theirs

“Distractions come in my way all the time. Just when I think things are going the way I want them, something changes. Em is my biggest distraction. I don’t know if I’m even making sense, Matt. I just feel lost.” Jeremy didn’t really know Matt Hamilton all that well but he had no one else to turn to. After Emelina had walked away from him the night before, he just sat and played the scene in his head like it was a movie. She came in all excited about being a farmer. He exploded at her. She said she should go and just left. Alone, he didn’t know what to do. An experienced doctor, successful in his career, kind to his patients but Em walked away. He finally called Matt when he couldn’t think anymore.

Matt knew he was on shaky ground. He suspected Emelina would have gone to Dez right away. Was he about to step into something sticky and smelly? But he knew what it was like to have someone walk out of his life. His was different though, at least he thought so. “Let’s meet for coffee. I haven’t had supper yet. You eaten anything?” Jeremy had to think a minute. “I don’t think so. I mean I don’t think I’ve eaten for hours. I guess I am hungry.” 

~~~~~

They met at a Denny’s, shook hands and went to a booth at the back. Matt hadn’t eaten all day and ordered the Hungry Man’s Breakfast, coffee, orange juice and a big stack of toast. Jeremy, his stomach growling since he had been reminded that he hadn’t eaten, ordered chilli, a Monterey sandwich and a glass of milk. The booth was silent while the two men ate their meals.

Matt wiped his plate with a piece of his toast. Finished he sat back and beckoned the waiter for more coffee. “Shouldn’t have more coffee this late, but it’s been a long day. What about you?” 

“It started out long and just got longer, Matt. I’m getting too old for the hospital work and then this trouble with Em.” Jeremy finished his sandwich, scraped his chilli bowl clean and drained the milk. When the waiter came to the table with coffee he held out his empty mug to her. “Thanks. Just the cream - no sugar.”

~~~~~

“I think I’ve got this all sorted out, Matt. You’re a good listener.” The two men were in the cool night air. “Any time, Jeremy. You’ll do just fine, you and Em. Glad I could help out.” He turned to his pickup, stopped and said “Say, why don’t you come out to the orchard tomorrow. I could use a hand if you’re not doing anything,”

“I’m going to call Em tonight and I’ll let you know.” 

“Life is travelled at a pace one decides for themselves.”

~ Chandra Sekhar, Failure Race: A story never told before

Book Review: Bloomsbury Girls by Natalie Jenner

Evie Stone moved from the role of servant girl at the Chawton Great House to Cambridge. She expected more when her term at Cambridge was completed. However, it was not to be. 

In February of last year, The Jane Austen Society, the first book by Natalie Jenner, was our book club’s choice for that month. This is where ‘quiet and unassuming’ Evie Stone is introduced. It is not necessary to read The Jane Austen Society to enjoy Bloomsbury Girls. The author makes reference throughout as some of the same characters show up in Bloomsbury Girls; characters that helped Evie move forward in her life.

Natalie Jenner has brought Evie Stone to us in this second novel, Bloomsbury Girls. Evie’s quiet and determined care for all books, but especially rare books, brought her to the Bloomsbury Books, a book shop with a centuries old pedigree in post-war London. Herbert Dutton, the general manager, established a strict list of fifty one workplace rules and expects them followed without question. The employees are two women, Vivien and Grace; and four men, Frank Allen, Alec McDonough, Master Mariner Simon Scott and Ashwin Ramaswamy. 

Vivien, manages the floor while Grace is Mr. Dutton’s very dutiful secretary. They are also expected to make tea four times in the work day. Both women are concerned and annoyed by the lack of women authors in the shop. Evie shares their concern. Each of the men has their own areas of work. Bloomsbury Books is very slowly losing its grip as a notable book seller as Mr. Dutton does not wish to upgrade or change. The balance of power in the shop changes the day that Mr. Dutton is taken ill and must be off for a time at the advise of his doctor. When Evie gets hired, the female to male ratio improves. The potential sale of the bookshop to Herbert and Frank becomes the twist in the story. High society, an American benefactor and the founders of The Jane Austen Society are involved. 

Natalie Jenner gives us ordinary women and men at a time of great societal imbalance. The women, especially, struggle to gain a more solid footing at Bloomsbury Books. An enjoyable and easy read.

“Rule No. 31

Staff shall treat each other with pleasantness at all times.”

~ Bloomsbury Girls

Title: The Bloomsbury Girls 

Author: Natalie Jenner

Copyright: 2022

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group

Type: Novel

Format: Soft Cover

ISBN - 9781250283221 (Canada & international (sold outside the U.S.))

ISBN - 9781250276704 (ebook)

Book Review - The Brideship Wife by Leslie Howard

England, 1862. Charlotte Harding and Harriet Baldwin, sisters, were on the edges of British society. Harriet, the older sister is married to the Honourable Charles Baldwin, MP a man of means who is vying for a greater position in the British Parliament. Charlotte is twenty one, unmarried and lives with them, taken in by her brother-in-law when her parents died. The most recent marriage choice for her, an unpleasant man, is key to aiding Charles in his bid for position. This is a time when women were no more than chattel, the British Empire was advancing their colonization into Canada with the attendant issues of racism, small pox and class divisions. Leslie Howard in her first novel The Brideship Wife, takes Charlotte and Harriet out of England aboard the Tynemouth, one of four ships, that became known as a bride ship. This is one of the historical details in Leslie Howard’s novel. At this time of the gold rush, the men that worked the claims were clamouring for wives. Some were impoverished and still panning for gold, while others ‘struck it rich’ either spending their new found wealth or using it to develop their ‘free’ parcels of land. There was little concern about the pasts of the women that arrived on Victoria’s shores. Charlotte, and her sister Harriet, were essentially banished from England by Harriet’s husband. On the ship, Charlotte showed compassion for those on the lower decks. Men in dreadful working conditions to man the ship; women confined to the lower decks by the Reverend and Mrs. Burke bringing religion to this new land. Shipboard romance is another part of Charlotte’s story. But she was determined not to fall into the role of the good wife again.

In reality, bride ships were the result of the Columbia’s Emigration Society’s initiative to bring women to aid in populating the colonies. The Brideship Wife was, in turn, strait laced and lively, as the women were shunted from their lives in England on the three month sea voyage to their new, and hopefully better, lives. Some did marry and raise children, some did not. In general they did find very different lives outside of some of the constraints of English society. This novel is a fast and easy read, despite the details packed within its pages. My only concern was that there seemed almost implausible jumps from one location to another. Possibly my own issue.

All in all, I found The Brideship Wife to be a very enjoyable read. 

“After all I’d been doing to salvage my reputation, I was 

taking a risk, but I had no other choice.”- Charlotte Harding

~ Leslie Howard, The Brideship Wife

Title: The Brideship Wife 

Author: Leslie Howard (raised in Penticton, B.C.; avid interest in her province.

Copyright: 2020

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Canada

Type: Novel

Format: Soft Cover

ISBN - 978-1-5082-5935-0

ISBN - 978-1-5082-5936-7 (ebook)

Bouquets

Dark curly hair topped his sweet face. ’Bye’! From the stroller navigated by his mom, he waved and smiled to the bus driver…. 

Canadians are often said to be polite and today, one little Canadian proved that some of us start young! Alighting at a signalled bus stop, most of us, men, women, teens, children ~ grumpy or cheerful ~ do say thank you or offer a ‘have a good day’.

Bus drivers are paid and have good union support. Why should we say thank you to someone for doing their job? Because, in their chosen career, they do for us what we cannot do or choose not to do. We get to our destinations safely despite the traffic of the day. Walkers, bicycles, strollers. Suitcases, shopping trolleys, umbrellas, bicycles, groceries, plants. Winter or summer. Dripping wet with rain or snow filled boots.

Do these men and women that take us hither and yon get tired, by the end of a long shift, of replying pleasantly to each and every one? It is a wonder. Today, the broad smile on the face of this morning’s bus driver told me that special ‘Bye!' was a highlight for his day.

“Everyone appreciates being appreciated”

~ Lance Greenfield

Book Review ~ Deep River Night by Patrick Lane

Gritty. Dark. In only 48 hours, sadness and shreds of hope intermingle with the stark realities of life in a B.C. lumber mill camp. A very timely read when we have just honoured our veterans. 

Here in B.C. we experience time changes twice a year. For some it disturbs moods or sleep, maybe both. For Art Kenning, this troubling story’s protagonist, his sleep and his moods were disturbed each day and every day. Sounds, smells and events could send him back to Paris, to Holland, to the muck and tragedy of war. Only whisky and opium could give him relief, even while he vowed to stop using both of them. Art is the camp’s medic several years after World War II when he had been a medic in his company. The camp’s boss, Claude Harper had been Art’s commanding officer in World War II. For Art, he had not stopped fighting the war, but his war was memories of his buddies doing despicable things. His war was that he had not stopped them. In the camp, although he lived alone he was the medic for anything that happened at the mill or in the small town, including the rough, tough and motley bunch at the mill barracks. Wang Po, the camp’s cook, who has come to terms with his own war traumas, is a centering figure throughout the story. He tolerates the racism from the men, shares his opium with Art, and is relied upon for calm wisdom. One boy, Joel, who had left his family to see more of the world, arrives in this mill town via rail car almost frozen, but had been saved by a stranger who kept him warm. This world he stumbled into, gave him job but was seldom kind to him, so his struggle was to learn the world with these men - some extremely unpleasant, some kind, some just ordinary men. 

Women had ‘their place’ in this microcosm of this small Canadian mill town. Most of them kept quiet, but occasionally one would speak up and then go on about her day. They did not, however, have much voice at all. They experienced severe abuse and neglect, especially Alice, a young First Nations girl. Stolen at age four from the back of a wagon by nuns, Alice had later been sold to the grocer for $50 from a residential school. She was locked up unless she was working in the store. Alice was an extremely vulnerable target for some of the more unsavoury men. Then there was Irene, isolated and abused, lost in her own mind, who died even though Art had stitched her many self inflicted wounds. Her husband, Jim McAllister and his friend, Ernie Reiner, quite literally disposed of her in the dump. This becomes a big part of Art's story and his personal redemption.

I was frustrated as I read the first few chapters of this book full of the details of everything from the leaves on the trees, the sounds of the forests and mill, and the hazy back and forth from war to the present. Aloud, I asked myself ‘Where is the story in this book!?” As soon as I voiced those words, I realized that all this detail that slowed me down, all the back and forth that threatened to confuse me is the story that tells of some of the crueler consequences of war, discrimination and violence. Young men damaged and lost to themselves and the world, but still alive. Woman and children dismissed and abused. Where is the hope in this book? It seemed as fragile at the voice of the women. Easily dismissed. For Art, despite all of his grief and pain, he was the person that was called, confident in his help when tragedy or illness struck. The hope was in Art’s innate kindness and respect for each life that he touched, coming whenever he was called, remembering those in need despite the fog in his head. The hope was that some women were able to speak up whether heard or not. The hope was that the vulnerable found safety and protection from unexpected people. 

This was Patrick Lane’s last book prior to his death in March of this year.

“To the men and women who came home from war only to find 

the poverty, injustice, inequality, and racism they had fought 

so hard to end. It is to their sacrifices we owe our lives.”

~ Patrick Lane (March 26, 1939 - March 09, 2019

(Deep River Night dedication page)

Title: Deep River Night

Author: Patrick Lane

Copyright: 2018

Publisher: McClelland & Steward

Type: Hard Cover

Format: Novel

ISBN: 978-0-7710-4817-3

EPUB ISBN: 978-0-7710-4818-0

Post Election Shuffle

The election day shuffle has been completed. At least at the ballot box. Once the newly elected politicians shuffle their way to Ottawa and find their seats in the House, they can get down to the business of taking care of Canadians. There have been many pledges and promises made in the run up to the election. Some of them will be kept, some of them will not be kept but possibly none of them will followed be through in as timely as manner as most of us at home would prefer. But as we all know any bureaucracy moves slowly, and especially government when all the rules and regulations, laws and special interests are taken into consideration before the gavel sounds.

Sporadically, I followed the election results last night more than ever. (There’s that retirement benefit that keeps cropping up.) The best news, in my mind, from this election is that there were an increasing number of women running for this election. One report said that each of the parties have been more active in seeking out women to run for office. I have been unable to find, via a quick Google search, how many were actually elected this year. The individual that I voted for did not win the vote, however the individual that would have been my second choice did. It is pleasing that this male dominated balance is tipping albeit slowly. But that’s the way cultural changes happen ~ slowly and with the dedication of those who wish to foster change. Those of us at home will each have to decide what we can do within our own circles to be at least a tiny part of change.

My congratulations to all those that won in their riding and best wishes to those who were defeated, but are not down for the count. My gratitude to all those that volunteered, in whatever capacity. I hope to join your ranks in future.

“Somewhere inside of all of us is the power to change the world.”

~ Roald Dahl

Smoke Stream

Second hand smoke is a real bother. Like flying bugs swarming around your face while one is trying to breathe. Definitely the smoke that people inhale into tender lungs has a more immediate impact to the smoker. In my perusing of journals and exercise books from twelve years ago, I came across this challenge to another trail of tar from nicotine. What prompted this writing I’m not certain. I suspect it was the smokers I saw that day, until, as is my habit, a stream of consciousness took over and spun a bit of fanciful reality. The quality of such unedited writing is often variable, especially when I can't read my own writing, so I've tried to spruce it up a bit.

Eight Men

Eight men smoking, lined up against the dark brown brick of a shopping mall. Different heights, ages and ethnicities. They are all gone now. Only a few stray cigarette butts left on the sidewalk. The air is clean and clear. The rain has settled the smoke onto the sidewalk where we will only wear the tar on the soles of our feet as we walk to and from the mall. No smoking outside, but nicotine tar inside where it will be taken into homes and family. But mostly on mops and in buckets when the janitors clean. Does the rain wash the sidewalks tar into the gutter?

“There’s a fine line between a stream of consciousness 

and a babbling brook to nowhere,”

~ Dan Harmon

Construction Controllers

Directing the flow of traffic

often controlled by 

blinking green, yellow and red lights or the orange hand is taken up by women or men in day-glo yellow vests criss-crossed with orange ~ guiding feet and tires through alternate routes around cranes, flat beds, cement mixers and constructioneers.

A crew deserving much gratitude for their clear and often smiling directions.

“You just have to have the guidance to lead you 

in the direction until you can do it yourself.”

~ Tina Yothers

Questions after Vimy Ridge - April 9 - 12, 1947

Amid the war to end all wars. 

Advancing over the homes and bodies of children, women and men while territories, borders and beliefs were embattled ~

Our world still wars somewhere. 

Advancing over the homes and bodies of children, women and men while territories, borders and beliefs are embattled ~

And still there are wars. 

In World War I, injuries of body, mind and soul were horrific.

The battles bloody and forgotten. 

The wounded that came home survived. 

And survived. 

And then there was World War II

And still there are wars.

When will the world be satisfied?

Where has our world gone wrong? 

Do individuals, countries, dogmas or financial empires need to be right? 

Do each of us need to have the most? the best?

Did our grandfathers, mothers and fathers die…….

No, are we to dishonour not just their memory, 

but their pride and belief in what they did for us? 

How can we come together in peace and fairness?

What do our warriors die for in these wars in our world?

“It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished 

unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets.”

~ Voltaire

No Borders

He stood tall and ancient,

bronze on a marble pedestal

fighting for ideas of freedom

Women and men ~

warriors who fought and died

brought home and honoured

yet for each life still lived

shattered memories trail behind 

faces carved from painful experience.

Remembering the spirit and sacrifice of uncles, aunts, grandparents, sisters, brothers and friends

swells a pride that has no borders.

“In the aftermath, we are because they were.”

~ RJ Heller, Holding Grace: Prose & Poetry

Author's note: Edited January 30, 2024

Under the Clear Blue Sky

I went for a walk this morning
looking for a story
inspiration on city streets

under clear blue sky

buses letting off moms with children,

teenagers playing hooky

moving vans filled with plain cardboard boxes, mattresses, sofas and deep walnut furniture

bright red convertible open to the sun

matching gray heads with hair flowing in the wind,

an elderly woman in her red scooter
smiled at me and rode on down the sidewalk ~
yellow fluffy spider swinging jauntily from the top
a young woman in a sundress, red hair swinging
smiled and greeted me as we passed on the path
workmen in hard hats hammering and building at construction sites for more condos and apartments
a pond filled with water lilies and Koi gold and white 



I ended my walk this morning
finding more than one story
so many possibilities on city streets
under the clear blue sky.

“Most stories are based on something real.”

~ Paula Weston, Shadows