Rudolf Skripek (25 Jun 1920 - 11 Jul 2015)

In loving memory of Rudolf Skripek who sadly passed away on 11th July 2015

Born in Beuthen, Upper Silesia in 1920, Rudi grew up in one of Germany's heavy industrial regions where he witnessed the demoralizing effect of the outcome of the first world war, and the depression years - 'so many men hanging around with nothing to do' he would say. However, his grandmother lived in a small village in the countryside, and every summer was spent in this idyllic setting. He recounted travelling out of the grimy city by train, and being collected by his grandmother in a pony and trap at the village station. His grandmother - his fathers mother - was by all accounts a very handsome woman, and quite a character. Having worked in service as a young woman for an aristocratic family in Bohemia, she left at some point and was set up with a house, a grocery business and the local post office. She also had 3 children by a man whom she never married - but who would visit every now and then on horseback.

As a young boy, Rudi displayed some artistic ability. There was a large mansion in his Grandmothers village, where, incidentally, Rudi's father had once been a blacksmith. As a small boy, he wandered into the grounds one day and sat sketching the scene in front of him with his pencil and sketchbook, when an old lady appeared, and complimented him on his work. She then offered him a couple of marks and bought the drawing from him. That old lady was the great grandmother of the present Princess Michael of Kent. That whole region of eastern Europe was full of old aristocratic families, and even his mother, as a young woman, had worked in service as a nanny to two children of one of these families.

As a young man, Rudi acquired a taste for classical music – which stayed with him all his life. Germany had always been a highly cultured nation - and so musical events where ubiquitous. So it was in his industrial home town that he got a passion for Operetta. But throughout his teenage years, the dark clouds, were gathering over Germany.

Rudi had a younger brother Conrad, who had survived a difficult birth but was retarded as a result. But while still a child, he was taken into 'care' by the authorities, and never seen again. His family were informed in a brief letter that he had died as the result of an illness.

And so it was, in late 1939, that Rudi received his call-up papers on a Saturday evening as he was going out to a local dance. And by Monday morning he was packed and gone - wrenched from his family, his apprenticeship at the local steelworks, his friends, and all the joys youth. Sure enough, as a young boy, along with his friends, he had spent time going off to camp - to the coast - all paid by the state; just like the boy scouts, only it was called the Hitler youth. But now, this was something much more serious.

He was drafted into the Luftwaffe and served in transport, and as France became occupied, he drove trucks carrying armaments and supplies across to Brest on the west coast. At this time he was billeted with a French family - one of those situations that we've seen in films or read stories about - the domineering presence of German troops in occupied France. But there was a flip side to this. With the family Rudi stayed with, he experienced only kindness - no hostility. And even the daughter took a particular shine to him.

During this time with the Luftwaffe he worked as assistant to a bomb disposal officer. His job was to help prepare everything up to the final moments of de-fusing, and then the officer handed his papers and personal effects to Rudi, who then retreated to a safe distance as the wires were snipped. In their spare time, Rudi said they drank together, quite heavily - to the point where his hands would shake when he was sober.

As the war rolled on relentlessly, the campaigns in Russia and elsewhere took there toll on the German army, and more men were needed. Around late 1943, he found himself drafted in to the 1057th regiment - the 91st Luftlander Division - a glider division of the army. He retained his rank of sergeant, and became group leader of 12 men. And it was at this time that fate really dealt its hand. Rudi had an older cousin who had been a fighter pilot, but had been grounded through serious injury into an administration job. At the time, troops where being shuffled around to replenish the dwindling numbers. Many were sent to Russia - a living hell - or France, for reinforcements. This cousin was pouring over lists of names one day when he came across Rudolf Skripek - who was destined for Russia. He promptly removed his name from that list and put him in the list for France instead. By the time June 1944 came round, Rudi had been through some hard training, and on the 6th of that month, American paratroopers were dropped in their thousands into the French countryside.

Rudi would sometimes recount the experiences he went through during the D-Day invasion. Stories about the little church in a hamlet called Cauquiny, where his company was dug in around the graveyard. And the church wall with a gaping hole in it where one of his company had gone in and played the organ, the music wafting out across the landscape. And when he was asked one night to ascertain how close the Allies were by crawling in the blackness across marsh and field, he got so close to the enemy that he could here them talking, and see the glow of their cigarette ends. And the time when a company of Americans were dug in hard and neither side could make any progress, he came up with the idea of aiming the heavy machine guns over the heads as they all charged the trench where the enemy were dug in. The terrifying noise of those machine guns echoing all around and from the surrounding woods, kept the heads of the Americans tucked well down, as his company charged to the top of the trench to find them huddled down under their helmets, and were able to take them all prisoner.

Many soldiers like Rudi were just ordinary young men in an extra-ordinary situation - doing as they were told and hoping for the best. Rudi had no interest in politics or belief in National Socialism - he sometimes said that he had fought on the wrong side. Now, in hindsight, it seems incredible how a whole nation could have be drawn in by such an evil regime, and made to die for it. Most human beings just want to get through with their lives intact.

Nevertheless, wherever his loyalties lay at the time, he was courageous in battle, because he was awarded the Iron Cross -'2nd class, and then later lst class, which he never actually received. And the battle for La Fiere in the area near St. Mere Eglise in Normandy were he was engaged, was described by the U.S. high command as one of the toughest and bloodiest conflicts in the whole of the European campaign.

In 2005, Rudi decided he wanted to visit Normandy, and with his wife and two of his sons, a trip was undertaken. There they found the church in Cauquiny with a great big area on the wall which had been patched up with new stone. The little walls around were peppered with bullet holes, and also patched up. Rudi stood by the gravestones that were still there from 1944, and in particular the one where his foxhole was dug. And where he held his friend, Peter Unsin, as he died from a mortar shell that had ripped out his stomach. There were no tears, just his silent amazement at the beautiful rural place where he had seen so much hell.

Then, a couple of years later, Robert, the youngest son, had made some enquiries, after visiting those places again for himself – one thing lead to another, and Rudi found himself being invited to take part in a documentary film that was being made by an American company. He spent time with American veterans who had fought exactly where my dad had fought. They must have exchanged rounds at each other at the time. There was a big dinner, and a sense of great comradeship. But when Rudi took his turn in front of the camera, it became too much – he broke down as he recounted some of the stories, because he recalled the young Americans who would have perished because of him. He struggled to get his words out, but through his tears, he apologized profusely.

The struggle in Northern France went on for many weeks, during which time Rudi was sent to Paris for surgery to remove pieces of shrapnel. He believed that his commanding officer had allowed this partly because Rudi was also suffering from exhaustion and needed a break. When he returned to the fray, things had changed, as the Americans were gaining ground. And by August, along with many other German troops, he was on the run. He was with another soldier as they slept rough and scavenged what food they could, when one morning, as they tried to eat raw potatoes in a field, a young French boy appeared, who took them to his farm. They ate and slept, and in the morning during breakfast, they were asked to step into the yard outside. They were confronted by a group of Americans who stood in a semi-circle, rifles aimed and cocked. The war was all over for Rudi, and he felt great relief.

Along with thousands of others, he was shipped briefly to England, and from Liverpool a 9 day voyage in heavy seas to New York. It was on this trip that he gave away his Iron Cross in exchange for cigarettes. By train he was transported into the wilderness of Alberta in Canada, to a camp for German prisoners of war which contained 13,000 men - which was where he remained for 2 years.

The camp was like a town in itself, with men from all walks of life doctors, lawyers, engineers, artists. And all were put to work in cutting timber. The winters were freezing, the summers stiflingly hot. Rudi liked to recount the time when he came dangerously close to a Grizzly Bear whilst cutting wood in the forest. He said that many of the guards were native American Indians, and at the to time, one had his rifle trained on the Bear.

In 1945, the horror of the concentration camps in Europe was discovered and the news spread around the world. Rudi said that none of them could believe the reality of what had gone on there. But as a result, all the POW's in his camp there were put on half rations for 6 months - and he said they all got very thin.

Finally, in 1946, he was released and shipped to England – first to Ashbourne, where he drove trucks, and then to Lincolnshire, where he worked on the land. In 1949 he was released. Germany was in total ruin, and so he decided to remain in England, and settled in Nottingham, where he resumed his Engineering studies from where he had left off way back in 1939. But now of course he had an extra burden - that of learning to get to grips with the English language. And he set about it with typical German tenacity. It was around this time that he met a girl called Barbara Bettison through another ex German pow friend who also had an English girlfriend. And in 1957 this girl became Mrs Skripek.

Rudi had taken a position with an American company called Carfastener, based in Sandiacre, where he worked as a toolmaker. And when he had completed his studies in engineering and applied for positions elsewhere as a draughtsman, Carfastener didn't want to lose him, and offered him a higher wage to stay. However, he moved on and up, and took up a position as designer draughtsman/designer at an old established engineering company in Derby called Bennett and Sayer. And there he remained for the rest of his working life. In 1959, Rudi and Barbara moved from their tiny flat in Nottingham to a brand new house in Allestree. And there they settled, to bring up three sons, Christopher, Ralph and Robert.

For an ex-German soldier living in England, so soon after the war, you would have thought it might have felt awkward, even hostile at times - indeed he was required to sign a register each week at his local police station for many years. There may well have been isolated incidents of hostility, but acceptance and respect was the usual response - such is the nature of the British people. And Rudi came to love England.

Aside from his day job, Rudi was a German-English language tutor, and spent 9 years as a part-time teacher at the Technical College - now Derby University - teaching German to Chemistry students. From there he went on to tutor privately, and took many students through A level examinations and beyond. Some continuing their lessons with him for years.

For almost 20 years, he slowly worked on a project which became a labour of love - the writing of a German English language course which incorporated engineering. It ended up a huge tome, which he eventually self-published- a swansong to his career in engineering, and languages.

He remained an avid pipe-smoker to the end of his life - his beloved pipe being his contemplative companion, and virtually his defining characteristic.