Story of Stalag XXA at the Toruń Fortress Museum

During yesterday's Wednesday meeting dedicated to military history, I had the privilege of delving into the fascinating history of the Stalag XXA prisoner-of-war camp in a way that truly captivates me—through the stories of individual people.

I strived to capture the essence of my tours, transporting the audience through time and space, uncovering stories that could easily be transformed into movie scripts. These are tales of unwavering human spirit, incredible determination, and extraordinary sacrifice that endured in the harsh conditions of the prisoner-of-war camp.

Stalag XXA, one of the largest POW camps during World War II, holds countless stories of heroism, friendship, and hope. I am grateful for the opportunity to share my experiences as a guide and shed light on the daily lives of the prisoners in Stalag XXA. My hope is that this presentation allowed for a better understanding of the remarkable relationships and bonds that formed among those deprived of their freedom.

The story of Stalag XXA is not only exceptional from a historical perspective but also deeply touching on an emotional level. It is a narrative of humanity that, despite the cruelty of war and the restrictions of camp life, managed to shine brightly. These human stories, full of drama, hope, and courage, can serve as extraordinary inspiration for film creators.

I am incredibly grateful to the hosts at the Toruń Fortress Museum for their hospitality and warm reception. I hope that we will have the chance to meet again in the future.

Comments

Thanks this trip we've discovered new facts about POW from Stalag XXA in 1945

That was wonderful trip. During three days we saw couple of places connected with POW path of Jack Stansfield. Moreover thanks his son Michael we saw notes with memories of last days in Stalag XXA in Torun. In opposit to all facts which says that prisoners left camp in late december 1945 Jack wrote that they started to march on 21 january! That means that lasts groups of POW left camp in 10 days before Torun was liberated. Fortunatley Jack survived afeter he escaped from march. He met russians army and polish partizants. Below we presents you short memories about Jack and trip to Poland... My father was called Jack Stansfield, he was born in August 1918. He was brought up in the market town of Malton in North Yorkshire where his parents were publicans. He joined the Territorial Army in March 1939 and was mobilised on the declaration of war. Jack enlisted in his local regiment joining the 5th Battalion of the Green Howards. After a short time at the Regimental HQ in Richmond, North

Living conditions in Stalag XXA

Monthly bath in Stalag XXA Living conditions Lawrence Travers Dorins a former POW describes „fort XI was surrounded by a high bank and the fence around it with gates across the entrance road, on one side there was also a dry moat with a bridge on it. The bridge led to a tunnel” The fortress was covered with trees, bushes and earth so that the fortress could not be visible from the bird's eye. Prisoners slept in caponiers where initially were supposed to sleep Prussian soldiers. Yet PoW describes the rooms as if there were designed as rooms in the concentration camps. Rooms looked as semi tunnels. “The perpendicular walls were about 3m high and the height of the arched roof was about 5 m, wooden bunks provided sleeping spaces. Each room had only two small windows which obviously allowed no ventilation. Due to the end of the night the air was solid and everyone would have a headache due to oxygen starvation” .In those rooms kept approximately 32 men. There were three shelves whe

Poem

Not many people are aware of the fact that even in Forced Work Camps, Pows wrote poetry. Below there is a moving poem written by Mr Harry Tapley. Written by Harry Tapley, 4th Btn Gordon Highlanders PoW No. 5532 Kriegsgfangener Lager Stalag XXB, XVIIIB, XXA I find it hard just to explain As I travel back down memory lane Of the strength of mind, and stale black bread And cattle trucks, and frozen dead The companionship, when might was right The petty thieving in the night, The lice, the rags, the hunger pains The barbed wire fence, the stink of drains The sudden blackouts when you stand A raging torrent of commands, Sleeping in snow in open spaces Guards death frozen in their places Sharing out each little mite Eating potatoes black with blight Clogs and foot cloths hurting feet While topping miles of sugar beet Dreaming of bellies being filled While just another prisoner's killed, The eager listening to all news The lies, the rumours, the different vi

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