'I left home in Kempston at the age of 17, to join the Women's Land Army. I first lived in a farm in Biggleswade then I transferred to Clifton Hostel where we went out each morning on a lorry to work and back again at night. We worked on a farm owned by Mr. Gazeley. It was there that I met and fell in love with a German P.O. W! He was also working on the farm with a party of prisoners under guard. When it was time for him to be repatriated, he asked me to marry him and follow him later to Germany.
As I was only 19 yrs old I had to get my mother's consent, but when I told her I wanted to marry a German, she was appalled. She said my father was wounded in the First World War, two brothers and four brothers-in-law fought in the Second World War. How could I think of doing such a dreadful thing? Had I no shame? I couldn't think of a life without Heinz, so I begged and pleaded and wept until one day my mother gave in, but at a price. It was her or Heinz! She said she would give her consent but if I married my German I was never to go jl home again. I packed my things, and went to Clifton Hostel only to find p, my clothes all packed. I was told by the warden that she didn't want a German-lover living in her house. I had nowhere to go so I went to see a refugee lady named Spatzchen that I had befriended, and she took me in until the officials decided where to send me. They eventually found me a place in Toddington Hostel.
Heinz and I were married under guard at Bedford Registry Office. Midge's (Muriel's) husband came with a letter begging me to change my mind and come home, but of course I didn't. After the ceremony Heinz was taken straight back to camp from whence he was sent home to Germany. I followed him 6 months later, the year was 1948. Heinz's father was a jeweller before the war and he sent me jewellry concealed in walnuts to pay for my travel.
I caught the train to Harwich then the ferry to the Hook of Holland.
When you boarded the ferry you were given space wherever you could. When I got to Holland I had to travel by train through war-torn Europe until I got to Frankfurt. It was a harrowing experience. I was exhausted. Heinz was waiting for me. His boss had driven him to the station, and they took me to Heinz's home in a small village next to Pfortzheim. Heinz was lucky to have a job, as thousands were out of work. Fortunately Heinz had got this plumbing certificate before he was called up and now the country needed plumbers.
Heinz's family had prepared a special treat for my arrival: black bread and a boiled egg laid by their own chickens. That was when I learnt that the only food they had to eat was what they produced themselves. I couldn't [| eat the black bread so I used to have potatoes instead. We had a church wedding as soon as possible. It was very cramped in Heinz's father's home, as Heinz had a sister and brother at home, so 6 of us slept in 3 rooms, and we ate in the kitchen.
Pfortzheim was the last place that the allies bombed, so all the refugees poured into Heinz's village which was like Kempston is to Bedford. Every available room was taken up by refugees. They didn't think much of me. I was the enemy now! After Heinz left for work in the mornings I was so lonely and homesick. My in-laws were very kind, but I couldn't speak German and they couldn't speak English. Each day my mother-in-law taught me a little German, and gradually I was able to make myself understood.
Then I became pregnant and we were really desperate. I wrote to the farmer I had worked for in England, Mr. Gazeley, as he and I had become good friends and had agreed to keep in touch. Thank goodness I did, because he wrote and asked us to come back to England and for Heinz to work for him. There was a tied cottage to go with the job. Of course we accepted, and 6 months later we had our papers to return home. All the arrangements were made: train tickets to the Hook of Holland, a ferry booked and Mr. G to meet us at Victoria station.
We boarded the train at Frankfurt, carrying all our worldly goods and a parcel of food that my mother-in-law had packed for us. It was an extremely tiring journey for me, being heavily pregnant, and long before we reached the Dutch border we had eaten all the food. But when we arrived at the border, the officials wouldn't allow Heinz through as he had to get a special visa.
A Canadian doctor was turned back as well, and he and Heinz had to go back to Dusseldorf for the visa. I had to stay at the border checkpoint, and I didn't have a penny to my name. No one would accept German money, it was useless. The Doctor kindly paid for a bed for me for the1 night in a local hostel, but I was so hungry and thirsty I asked the clerk at the station for a drink of water which he kindly provided for me.
Next morning Heinz came back with the visa but when we tried to get on the train we were told we had to pay 35 shillings for another ticket as our ticket was already stamped. I felt so ill I burst into tears.
But someone was looking after us as an American Officer asked me what was wrong. When I told him of our plight he paid for our ticket. I asked him for an address so I could send him the money but his wife told us they were happy to help. We went on to the Hook of Holland and by now we were both very hungry again, but once more we had a helping hand.
When we boarded the ferry we met up with the Canadian doctor and he bought us food and drink. When we finally got to Victoria station we were 24 hours later than planned, and there was no one there to meet us. What were we going to do now? I tried to sell my watch without success, and we sat down in deep despair.
I looked up and all my prayers were answered. Walking towards us was Mr Gazeley - he had come back again on the off-chance. We got back to the farm, and naturally things were not easy for us, but we had our own home and a beautiful daughter, and gradually we were accepted into the community.
Betty Schwarz
