A German prisoner of war camp is something you never forget, and Oflag 64 was a very special one. Here is a look at those grim, and not-so-grim, days a half century ago.

BY DON LUSSENDEN

Approximately six months after my arrival at Oflag 64, a request came from our library for anyone who could repair books. When there appeared to be no one who had that experience, I decided to give it a try. My only knowledge in the field was a Boy Scout merit badge project.

For those who had never given the need for bookbinding a single thought, I will point out a few items to consider. Most importantly in this instance, as the Lager received the initial group of American ground force officers in June 1943, the preceding group of English officers had left a small library of some 250 well-worn English titles. The library was soon supplemented by American titles via the International YMCA. All the books, old and new, had been machine-bound, and were never intended for the usual non-stop reading and handling. The glue and stitching soon broke down, allowing the sections of the book to fall apart and the cover to come off. When the new and extremely popular American books began to break down after ten to twenty readings, the call went out for a bookbinder.

The library staff, after reviewing the condition of the donated English titles, had the foresight to order bookbinding supplies at the same time that they asked the International YMCA representative for new books from America. Therefore, at the point when I volunteered to repair books, I had a good supply of thread, needles, paper, artificial leather and glue, and plenty of storage areas. I selected a suitable space with a skylight roughly one foot square and a single light bulb hanging on a twisted cable. Using the cardboard from the Red Cross food parcels, the walls and rafters were made reasonably weather worthy. In addition, the cardboard was covered with white paper from our bookbinding supplies, which reflected such light that was received from the single light bulb and skylight. The German staff provided a small wood-burning stove that took the chill off and kept our glue pot warm. The tools that were furnished by the YMCA were two knives, 3" x 3" bars with a 1" wooden screw at each end. I must admit that the rebound books were not pleasing to the eye, but were serviceable for the readers.

After a few months of operation, we had a visitor from the German staff. Willie Kricks, an Ausland Deutscher who lived in Schubin with his wife and two children, came to visit our bookbindery. Willie, I must explain lived in Schubin prior to 1939, and owned and operated a printing shop and a bookbindery. When the German Army occupied Poland, Willie suddenly became a German Soldier. He was handicapped with a crippled leg; therefore, he was attached to the local grenadier group and, of course, did the printing for the area military units. Later, in 1943, he also printed The Oflag Item, our camp newspaper.

Naturally, Willie was interested in seeing his only competition in Schubin, so he came to visit our bookbindery for himself! After he examined the shop, he asked me if I was really a bookbinder in real life. I replied, "No, I worked for the Ford Motor Company." He said that he thought I was not a bookbinder, but there was some hope! He then asked if I would like to go downtown to his bookbindery and learn the trade from his employees. Formal arrangements were made, and two of us were allowed to go each day for two weeks and work with the four Polish workers in his bookbindery. It was a fine learning experience, and it also set up a useful working relationship between Willie and myself.

Willie became a frequent visitor to the Gnome Bookbindery, and never left without a small present. I received permission from our Senior American Staff to barter with Willie to obtain needed supplies and services. We very early on ran out of glue and heavy thread. For cigarettes, Willie kept us in glue and thread. He also took our cutter blade to Danzig for sharpening when required. After we evacuated the camp on January 21, when possible, Willie would slip a few eggs and bread to me during the march until he was reassigned. I often have wondered about Willie, and whether he lived to recover his wife and children from Schubin.

Immediately after our training session, Willie had a surprise for me; on the third floor of the building that housed our tailor shop was a large book press and book trimmer. It took ten of us to lift it and carry it down to the ground floor and up again to the third floor of the White House where our book bindery was located. We put 3' x 3' timbers through the legs, with two men keeping the machine balanced, and struggled a few steps at a time to our shop. This new piece of equipment gave our work a professional appearance. After we had reassembled the sections of a book by sewing each section to the tapes across the spine of the book, there was no way to make the edges of each section flush with those of the other sections, which made for a very rough appearance. With our new equipment, we clamped each of the three free sides in turn, and with a large hollow ground blade mounted in groves parallel to the press, trimmed the sections so each edge of the book was now smooth. The blade was driven slowly down with immense pressure actuated by a connecting bar mounted eccentrically to a gear, which, when rotated 360 degrees, pushed the cutting blade down to a wooden block surface and pulled the blade back to full-up position. The driving gear was actuated by a gearing system to give it a very slow rotation with great driving force. We turned a flywheel of approximately 24" diameter by hand several times around to accomplish one slicing operation.

After the book was trimmed on three sides and gently rounded on the spine, we clamped the book in our heavy wooden clamp so that about 1/4" of the spine was above the edge of the clamp. This gave us space to gently knock the edges of the outer section over the edge of the clamp to form the ridges or shoulder on the spine, which allowed for the hinges with the cover boards.

Making the new cover was the fun part and not as tedious as carefully cutting the worn book apart and slowly re-sewing the sections together. Usually we could re-use the original cardboards of the worn book. We became quite creative with two colors of Morocco grained artificial leather and two colors of plastic impregnated linen.

Frequently our S2 staff had material for us to secrete into our books for the purpose of providing evidence in the future at War Crimes Investigations. Prior to starting such an operation, it was necessary to inform our security office that we would be working on these special bindings at a given time, so that our lookouts on duty could immediately notify us if any of the German staff entered the compound. Had we been caught red-handed in the act, it would have been considered by the Nazi regime in the same category as spying. There would have been an immediate trial, and "Der Gnome Buchbinder" would never have made it to the 50th Anniversary of the Founding of Oflag 64!

The "evidence" was carefully hand-printed on onion skin paper approximately 4" x 6" in size. Books were selected by subject to later be matched with and assigned to an officer for whom it would be logical to be in personal possession of such a book; e.g., an engineering manual for a mechanical engineer, a foreign language text for an officer who was studying that language in Oflag 64. After selection of the book was made, we would rebind it using the original cardboards into two thin sheets apiece. We then outlined a space on the inside surfaces of the split boards to accommodate the onionskin "evidence." With razor blades, we skinned out thin layers of cardboard to leave a recess between each of the halves of the cover board that would be equal to the thickness of sheets of onionskin. A colorless glue was used to seal the halves back into a coverboard, and the edges were sanded to remove any evidence of the split. The boards were assembled into a normal evidence of the split, then assembled into a normal cover and attached to the newly bound book. I never knew to whom the books were assigned, and never witnessed one of our books being cut open to recover the onionskins. I did see individuals at Camp Lucky Strike reporting to the RAMP S2 office for collecting atrocity materials, so I presume that is where those books were processed.

Of the many books we rebound, I have only one little 3" x 4 1/2" x 1 1/4" German-English, English-German dictionary, which I rebound. I carried it with me, as I used every opportunity to practice the German language that Carl Hanson had taught us. Starting on January 21, 1945, I used it daily all the way to Moosburg. I have carried it to Germany at least nine times, where the Gepruft stamp started many a conversation!

Author: Becky Driscoll
E-Mail: bdriscoll@dcccd.edu