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Prisoner number 112613
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| H&N photo by Todd E. Swenson Ralph Kesling, 88, served in the U.S. Army during World War II. He was a prisoner of war at Stalag 17B in Krems, Austria, for 23 months. |
Ralph Kesling was a prisoner of war during World War II
By MEGAN DOYLE
H&N Staff Writer
Staff Sgt. Ralph Kesling landed softly in a potato patch after bailing from his YB-40 plane that was crippled by groundfire on June 22, 1943.
The German soldier who put a pistol in his face and yelled “handi hoch” wasn’t friendly. Kesling raised his hands as ordered and became a prisoner of war, number 112613.
He had the clothes he was wearing and no weapons.
“And they took all the warm flying clothes I had,” Kesling said. He wore the same coveralls everyday for the next year and a half.
“Of course, they didn’t get washed much,” he said.
By the time the Red Cross sent new clothes to the prisoners, his old coveralls were falling off him because he had lost so much weight.
Kesling, 88, of Klamath Falls, was 22 when he was drafted into the Army and placed into the Air Corps.
“It was because of my small size. Not everyone could fit into a ball turret,” he said.
In January 1943, he began his journey to war on a brand new B-17, stopping in places where American troops were serving to deliver holiday gifts.
Three months after arriving in Europe, he was assigned a new crew. He met the crew the morning of June 22, 1943, when he was called to be a ball turret gunner in a YB-40, a specialized B-17, for a mission to attack a synthetic rubber plant in the Ruhr Valley.
The plane was hit with flak, which took out one engine. The other engine caught fire and the crew was forced to bail at 27,500-feet.
“My parachute was in the airplane, there wasn’t room in the ball turret,” he said.
He was the last one out of the plane. It took him about 15 minutes to reach the ground, which was enough time for the enemy to see him coming.
“I couldn’t see (my crew) at the moment, but they got us all together,” Kesling said.
The crew was taken to Moosburg, Germany, to prison 7A. The bunks were stacked three deep and there was one water spigot for about 300 men. Other prisoners showed him how to fashion a tin can for soup and another for coffee and how to carve a wooden spoon to eat with.
He was moved to Stalag 17B in October 1943, into barracks 37B.
At first, the prisoners of Stalag 17B shared a loaf of bread between four men. Later, it became one loaf of bread for 20 men, Kesling said. The bread was called ersatz, or substitute, and the chief ingredient was sawdust.
“It wasn’t very good,” he said.
They also ate watered down soup and grass for sustenance and drank water from puddles.
They men had no place to store other food, if they did have any it was eaten by mice. In one day, 14 mice were caught in a mousetrap in the corner where Kesling’s bunk was.
“That thinned them out a big in our corner,” he said.
The men also dealt with fleas and lice. Kesling had as many as 40 fleabites that grew infected when he was a prisoner. The only treatment given to him was sulfa, which he was allergic to. “I thought it was going to kill me,” he said.
After six months as a prisoner, Kesling received a package from his wife, Kay, that included vitamins.
“Within a month of taking those vitamins, they weren’t a problem anymore,” he said.
Other packages kept Kesling and fellow prisoners mentally occupied.
The YMCA and Red Cross sent packages with baseball and football equipment, cards and books.
Despite the hardships, Kesling never thought about trying to escape. He didn’t think his chances were good because he was so far into enemy territory.
Others tried, but were killed.
Kesling never knew the names of the guards, so the prisoners gave them nicknames.
There was Needle Nose and Abie the Mole, who would punch a stick in the ground looking for escape tunnels.
Close to the end of the war, and about 10 miles from the Austrian border, Kesling thought the prisoners would be liberated. Instead, they were prepared to walk in groups of 500 with 20 guards to each group. The walked about 300 miles in 18 days starting on April 8.
On May 3, Gen. Patton’s army, with tanks and trucks, disarmed the German guards and took the prisoners to an abandoned aluminum factory.
The Americans made the bakery in town bake bread for them with real flour.
“At that time my stomach had shrunk. If I ate a slice of bread, I was full,” Kesling said.
They were moved to France, where they continued to gain weight and their health.
“I think they wanted us to look a little better before they sent us home,” he said.
He arrived home in Boston on June 11, 1945, and telegraphed his wife that he was back in the states. It was a nice reunion, he said.
The German soldier who put a pistol in his face and yelled “handi hoch” wasn’t friendly. Kesling raised his hands as ordered and became a prisoner of war, number 112613.
He had the clothes he was wearing and no weapons.
“And they took all the warm flying clothes I had,” Kesling said. He wore the same coveralls everyday for the next year and a half.
“Of course, they didn’t get washed much,” he said.
By the time the Red Cross sent new clothes to the prisoners, his old coveralls were falling off him because he had lost so much weight.
Kesling, 88, of Klamath Falls, was 22 when he was drafted into the Army and placed into the Air Corps.
“It was because of my small size. Not everyone could fit into a ball turret,” he said.
In January 1943, he began his journey to war on a brand new B-17, stopping in places where American troops were serving to deliver holiday gifts.
Three months after arriving in Europe, he was assigned a new crew. He met the crew the morning of June 22, 1943, when he was called to be a ball turret gunner in a YB-40, a specialized B-17, for a mission to attack a synthetic rubber plant in the Ruhr Valley.
The plane was hit with flak, which took out one engine. The other engine caught fire and the crew was forced to bail at 27,500-feet.
“My parachute was in the airplane, there wasn’t room in the ball turret,” he said.
He was the last one out of the plane. It took him about 15 minutes to reach the ground, which was enough time for the enemy to see him coming.
“I couldn’t see (my crew) at the moment, but they got us all together,” Kesling said.
In enemy hands
The crew was taken to Moosburg, Germany, to prison 7A. The bunks were stacked three deep and there was one water spigot for about 300 men. Other prisoners showed him how to fashion a tin can for soup and another for coffee and how to carve a wooden spoon to eat with.
He was moved to Stalag 17B in October 1943, into barracks 37B.
At first, the prisoners of Stalag 17B shared a loaf of bread between four men. Later, it became one loaf of bread for 20 men, Kesling said. The bread was called ersatz, or substitute, and the chief ingredient was sawdust.
“It wasn’t very good,” he said.
Living conditions
They also ate watered down soup and grass for sustenance and drank water from puddles.
They men had no place to store other food, if they did have any it was eaten by mice. In one day, 14 mice were caught in a mousetrap in the corner where Kesling’s bunk was.
“That thinned them out a big in our corner,” he said.
The men also dealt with fleas and lice. Kesling had as many as 40 fleabites that grew infected when he was a prisoner. The only treatment given to him was sulfa, which he was allergic to. “I thought it was going to kill me,” he said.
After six months as a prisoner, Kesling received a package from his wife, Kay, that included vitamins.
“Within a month of taking those vitamins, they weren’t a problem anymore,” he said.
Other packages kept Kesling and fellow prisoners mentally occupied.
The YMCA and Red Cross sent packages with baseball and football equipment, cards and books.
Despite the hardships, Kesling never thought about trying to escape. He didn’t think his chances were good because he was so far into enemy territory.
Others tried, but were killed.
Kesling never knew the names of the guards, so the prisoners gave them nicknames.
There was Needle Nose and Abie the Mole, who would punch a stick in the ground looking for escape tunnels.
Liberation
Close to the end of the war, and about 10 miles from the Austrian border, Kesling thought the prisoners would be liberated. Instead, they were prepared to walk in groups of 500 with 20 guards to each group. The walked about 300 miles in 18 days starting on April 8.
On May 3, Gen. Patton’s army, with tanks and trucks, disarmed the German guards and took the prisoners to an abandoned aluminum factory.
The Americans made the bakery in town bake bread for them with real flour.
“At that time my stomach had shrunk. If I ate a slice of bread, I was full,” Kesling said.
They were moved to France, where they continued to gain weight and their health.
“I think they wanted us to look a little better before they sent us home,” he said.
He arrived home in Boston on June 11, 1945, and telegraphed his wife that he was back in the states. It was a nice reunion, he said.
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