Missing The Boat: War Stories of Thomas Alan Dirkin

18 Beds and Balaclavas In late June of 1940, my dad arrived at a prisoner of war camp named Stalag VIIIB, near Lamsdorf, Upper Silesia, Poland. The sleeping quarters like those portrayed in the movies: rectangular huts with bunk beds and minimal heat. Top bunks were favored. If you were on the bottom bunk it was pretty routine to be urinated on during the night by the man up top. My dad was not blaming his incontinent friends. Poor diet, cold, kidney infections and poor health just meant that peeing yourself was frequent and inevitable. Gravity did the rest. My dad slept with his balaclava turned around backwards so that his face was covered. The purpose was to make it more difficult for rats to bite your face when you slept.