Christmas in a POW Camp

Christmas Eve 1944 -- It was 20 degrees below zero in Stalag Luft III, a German prisoner-of-war camp near Zagan in Poland, where 15,000 prisoners -- including myself -- were weak, hungry and cold.

Many of us had spent the evening trudging through the snow, exchanging Christmas greetings with fellow prisoners in many languages and observing how each cultural group tried to celebrate the season.

Some prisoners had made little trees. Some had created manger scenes on their windowsills. And they had all tried to be creative with their Spam and corned beef. The real treat was sugared bread, a bit like American cookies.

We shared our traditional Christmas songs and wished each other a merry Christmas, knowing that each of us had a deep, well-hidden sadness and a desperate longing for our loved ones back home. Many tears were shed that night.

In our combine, we gave one another gifts that often involved great personal sacrifice but came with much love and goodwill. The gift I was given was especially appropriate. Iąd gotten so badly beaten up by the Germans when our Flying Fortress -- a B17G -- was brought down near Munich that I couldnąt walk properly. One of my buddies gave me a beautifully carved walking stick.

One young man who had lost all his hair from malnutrition gave away his most prized possession: a pocket comb. I had saved up my black ration bread and gave six of my friends big slices for breakfast.

Twenty minutes after lights out, we heard the subdued sound of men singing Christmas carols in German. The songs came from the mouths of the guards, who were risking harsh discipline to help their captives feel the spirit of the occasion. It was unbelievable!

The Germans sang carols we knew. To us, they sounded like angels. They moved closer to our barracks and quietly came in and placed some articles on our tables, taking their lives in their hands in an extraordinary gesture of Christian fellowship.

Next morning, we discovered that everyone in the camp had been given an extra ration of bread, four eggs, an onion, a small writing pencil and a few pages of writing paper. I knew that Christ had been in the hearts of everyone that night.