As the war moved into it’s closing stages the POWs started to take matters into their own hands. A fascinating, and little known account is given by Jack Pringle in his excellent book ‘Colditz Last Stop’ - an intruiging story of eleven prisons, four countries and six escapes.

“Early in that last winter of the War, Colonel Willie Tod, the SBO, was informed that the camp had been removed from control of the Wehrmacht and was to come under Himmler, although SS troops did not actually take over guard duties. This was a worrying development, as we in Germany were well aware what it meant to come under orders from this brutal man. Moreover, we had heard through the grapevine that Colditz prisoners might be held as hostages at the end of the war, and especially a group in the camp whom the Germans called Prominenten.”

“And so the atmosphere in the camp was decidedly uneasy. In February Colonel Tod decided to take action. He was a Scots Fusilier captured at Dunkirk and a man of great character whom the Germans not only respected but feared because of the loyalty he commanded from those under him. He reckoned, with the Allies approaching from the West and the Russians from the East, that we might be caught in between and have to fend for ourselves. In that case we would need links with locals in authority and to establish a workable relationship with them before a dangerous situation actually arose. To be practical we would have to make these contacts immediately, and work on them so that they would be ready to accept directions from us when the Country started to fall apart, as we were sure it would.

Colonel Tod knew of David Stirling’s Marisch Trubau project which had been oriented more or less along these same lines and for the same reasons. Now he enlisted David to apply the same concept to the Colditz problem. Could such a thing be done? Colonel Tod asked. In spite of natural optimism and a tendancy to take on anything that seems difficult, David’s answer had to be “possibly”, but “probably not”. For prisoners in the closest guarded prison in Germany to develop contacts with dissident Germans outside seemed out of the question, even with the war clearly in its closing stages.

David Sterling

We talked about it. There was one first step that was feasible. All individual trading with guards could be stopped. As happened in all prisons, quite a few officers developed a relationship with their own pet guards, and they would trade with them when they came in at night in return for gossip from the Kommandantur, and luxuries such as Schnapps and bread. But we needed a specific kind of information, not just gossip. This meant we would have to forbid general trading and keep it strictly in our hands. Once this was done, we would appoint traders who would operate under our instructions and ask only those questions directly related to the task the SBO had set us.

The SBO immediately gave the order for trading to stop, and placed at David’s disposal the reserve of the Red Cross parcels that he had set aside for emergencies. Resistance to this idea by those whose black market supplies had been cut off, was overcome by arranging for a general distribution throughout the Castle of all produce procured through controlled trading. So far so good.

Now the important thing was to put together a team capable of suborning the guards, men with a talent for persuasion and some flair for intelligence work. It was my job to do this, but I needed a professional to help me. This was to be Pierre de Vomecourt whom David and I had got to know well since coming to Colditz.” “David and I both recognised his sharp intelligence and steely nerves, and these were coupled with a talent for deception. He was an ideal partner. With Pierre I now set about choosing two officers who would be our contacts with the Germans and who would have sole call on our store of cigarettes, chocolate and gold.

Our first choice was Lieutenant Cenek Chaloupka, a Czech Air Force Officer who had successively flown from Czechoslovakia, Poland, France and England – and had been decorated by all four countries. “Checko”, as he was called, was a strikingly good looking man of about 30, tall and swarthy with a charismatic character, and possessed an irresistible exuberance.

Cenek Chaloupka

He spoke perfect German, and already had his special friends among the guards. Above all, he was a man of complete discretion and proven courage.

Dick Jones was our other choice. To this day I do not know what his real name was, nor his real nationality, although I suspect it was Egyptian.

Dick Jones

Dick turned up at Colditz claiming a varied career as a spy for the British; claims which he supported with stories about his work in French-occupied North Africa, latterly in Tunis. These tales made him suspect in the Castle, as spies do not as a rule talk about their work. His presence in Colditz therefore had been viewed with a certain jaundiced reserve, which was reinforced by the fact that he spoke practically no English, but fluent French, German, Italian and Arabic. Dick’s manner was bland and his personality grey. He was eminently forgettable, exactly what an agent should be. If what he said about himself was true, he could be useful to us. But dare we trust him? It so happened, however, David had heard of his exploits when in Tunis. We talked this over and finally decided to treat him as we had treated Van Zouco at Marisch Trubau, that is, to use him, but to tell him nothing. As it turned out, we had made an excellent choice: Dick proved to be a courageous and loyal partner in our project.

These two, then, had the task of obtaining information in return for bribes of chocolate and cigarettes, and of trying through the guards to make some contact with locals in Colditz town. At this stage the guards were men of over 60 and there were a few young boys of about 16. This worked in our favour as there was not much zeal for the war in either of these age groups, and they were susceptible to the Allied Propaganda that Checko and Dick put out with great skill.

Both Checko and Dick had a lot of experience in trading with the guards. They knew the “going rate” – just how much information to ask for, how much to offer in exchange in order to coax out more, when to shut off supplies, when to be amiable, when to be tough. Every night they met their contacts, guards who came into the courtyard from 6pm until 6am, standing, one just inside each of the five entrances to our quarters, forbidding us free movement. There were no guards inside the Castle during the day, but the night routine provided an excellent opportunity for cosy chats, although it was necessary to wait for tame guards to come on duty. This often meant waiting around all night inside the doorway as the guard rosters were somewhat unpredictable.

During these talks Checko and Dick questioned the guards along the lines laid down by Pierre, David and myself, lines calculated to give us precise information about the important personalities in Colditz, and the activities in the German Camp, Kommandantur. We also looked for information as to the location of the police station, Mayor’s office, the telephone exchange, waterworks, the concentration camp for Hungarian Jews, barracks of Russian prisoners of war, grain and petrol stores, garages, medical facilities and main farm buildings. We had rapid success in obtaining this information, and soon had a map of Colditz with all key points accurately marked, aided in this by the fact that from the Castle we had a panoramic view of the village below and could relate what we heard from the guards to what we could actually see. David passed on this information to the SBO as it came in.

But our prime object was to find and develop one reliable anti-nazi contact in the village. We were despairing of this until we had an unusual piece of luck. I discovered that Checko, dashing officer that he was, had a girlfriend in the village. What do you mean?” I asked him when he told me this. “How can you have any friend in the village?” “It happened last year. I was sent to Prague for interrogation by the Gestapo. There was a girl from Colditz in the same carriage, a dentist’s assistant. It was quite a long trip and we had time to get to know each other a bit. I thought I would never come back from Prague – I had a guilty conscience. But I did, in three day’s time.” When he got out of the train, the girl, Imgard Wernicke, was on the platform to meet him. “I have met every train from Prague hoping you would come back. Thank God you have.” Checko asked the guard to give him a minute alone with the girl. He agreed, backing off into a corner but keeping watch. “No one knows what is going to happen to Germany now. And the Castle is a dangerous place for all of you. I want to see you again. Can’t you get to the dentist somehow? I want to see you again,” she repeated. Checko said he would try – after all, Colditz prisoners were short of female companionship and this was a chance in a thousand.

Checko had managed to get to the dentist, not once but five times, by smashing a few teeth so badly on rocks that they needed a series of treatments. Each time he managed to see Imgard alone. Indeed he became the only inmate of the Castle ever to have kissed a girl while being held there. On the last visit she told him that she would do anything for him, and to contact her through a guard if he ever needed help. When we heard this the next step was obvious. Somehow we had to find a guard whom we could trust to carry a letter to Imgard, as she was our one chance of making contact with people of the town. It was a delicate task. At first neither Checko nor Dick Jones admitted to knowing a guard who they were prepared to trust with this sort of mission.

Then one day Dick Jones came to us. As usual he had the faintest of smiles on his face, but his eyes never smiled. “There is a new guard,” he said. “Only a boy really, but he said he would buy things for us in the village if we gave him the money. His family live in Colditz,” he added. I asked Pierre de Vomecourt what he thought. “If he is prepared to take that kind of risk,” Pierre said, “he might carry a letter, especially if we can convince him that he is only helping a romance.”

We brought Checko in at this point, and got him to write a romantic letter to Imgard. We left the envelope open. The boy, Heinz by name, readily agreed to deliver it, and to bring back the reply, which he did. This was progress; and after a few exchanges we sealed all envelopes and got down to business.

After the necessary fond preludes, the letters turned into questionnaires, and were in fact, written by Pierre and myself for Checko to copy. The questions dealt with subjects of national interest, moral, attitudes towards the allies, and towards the Nazi party, but more especially with the situation in Colditz and its surroundings. Who were the leading Nazis? Were there any anti-Nazis? She answered these questions carefully and intelligently. Then, in one letter came a surprise. Her father was the leader of the local Nazi party, and through this connection she had access to information regarding important Colditz personalities and their intentions. She was ready, she said, to tell us everything she could, getting her information directly from her father and passing it on. She heard a lot of talk between her father and his Nazi colleagues when they met at her house. Two questionnaires a week now went out to Imgard and she answered them thoughtfully and in detail.

We also made progress with Heinz, our courier. Before being conscripted he had been studying to enter the School of Mines at Freiberg, and was alert and intelligent. It became obvious that he was helping us because he was anti-nazi. We learnt from him that his father, whom I shall call Schmidt, was the town’s richest man and leading moderate. Schmidt had actually said to him at the time of the attempt on Hitler’s life in July that if he couldn’t be got rid of that way, then somehow another way had to be found. This was clearly a good subject for us to concentrate on.

The first and riskiest step as to induce Heinz to confide in his father that he was collaborating with us. This he did, and to our surprise got the answer that he was ready to help. Before we asked anything of him, however, we checked with Imgard to find out if he was the moderate his son had made him out to be. The answer came back that he was, and, moreover, was on her father’s blacklist. It was easy now for us to get Imgard to approach Schmidt and to team up with him in helping us. This was done through Checko’s letters and they carried very careful instructions and many letters. Imgard’s infatuation with Checko was complete, and she never hesitated to do as she was told. Very soon, we had a dossier on all the important local Nazis, not only civilians in the party, but the Gestapo and Castle administrative personnel. On the other hand, we knew who the moderates were in whom Schmidt had confidence. From among the latter on Schmidt’s recommendation we selected those who we would look to with a view to forming an alternative local government when the end came.

Heinz’ father now started to prove his usefulness. He somehow arranged that the Kommandantur switchboard operator would listen in on all calls from Berlin and Dresden to the Kommandant. Authorities responsible for Colditz had their headquarters in the two Cities. The operator noted the gist of these conversations and in due course we received the information. None of it was reassuring as more and more often the calls came from SS and Gestapo sources. It was also arranged that Office staff watched incoming mail for anything affecting our safety. Thus in March, we learnt of an especially disturbing piece of information: A letter had been seen on the Kommandant’s desk signed by Hitler saying that the Prominenten were under no condition to be allowed to fall into allied hands. It is of some interest to note that after the war Lord Lascelles (by then Harwood) actually had sight of this Order and it stands as proof of the genuiness of these contacts.”