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DEL.ICIO.USA POW’s ordeal, a newborn’s debt
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Woodrow Eugene Wooten, with cousin Lois Wooten Brown of Kennesaw at a 2001 family reunion, told the story of his war experience — the kind of memories likely to be held in the hearts of many family members.
Had the preacher not sermonized for 27 minutes into Uncle Dink’s funeral service before mentioning the corpse by name, the cousins might not have turned reflective, counting mourners and absences and resolving, when all the slow-walking and low-talking was done, that we really needed to get together more often.
So it was that for more than a decade now an ever-expanding circle of kin has gathered every October just to keep up with each other’s lives, to talk of new babies and brides. We visit dirt and churn ice cream, and speak of ghosts as though they’re there while walking amid the headstone reminders that six generations were.
But for that preacher, I may never have known Woodrow Eugene Wooten of Tampa, Fla., a first cousin, once removed, an optimistic and cheerful man with a quick wit and mischievous blue eyes. And had I not gently inquired as the reunion years drew by, he may never have gone back. Or taken me to a darkness of his youth.
Last year at his wife Carmen’s behest, he opened up, detailing experiences that before had been just hints among cousins as to the ordeals he had suffered. Time, the six decades since the end of World War II, has added a protective shield. Dates, places, details, indelibly imprinted and meticulously recorded, flow in matter-of-fact recitation. And that is revealing, too. A healing God regenerates and closes doors too painful to leave open until we’ve gained the grace and the wisdom, and therefore the strength, to confront our tormenting demons.
Eugene, the right waist gunner on a B-24J based in England, was shot down on March 6, 1944, while flying at 22,000 feet over Hanover, Germany, as part of a 2,000-plane bombing run over Berlin. His parachute landed at Meppen, Holland. He, suffering a shrapnel wound in his leg, and another crew member were immediately taken prisoner.
While being interrogated, he was forced to sit naked from the waist down on a block of ice. “This was very painful … but I did not give them the benefit of even a grunt.” When he declined to answer, one of the guards “hit me so hard under the chin that it lifted me completely off the ice, and I landed across the room.”
Later, while being transferred from one prison camp to another, he was forced to stand packed with other prisoners without food, water or bathroom access for 38 hours. Upon arriving, he and others were forced to run about three miles through lines of German civilians throwing bricks, rocks and other debris. Those who fell were clubbed by guards or attacked by dogs.
Food amounted to about 700 calories per day, about one-third the average man’s needs. At one camp, Stalag Luft IV, Eugene lost 100 pounds. “I was skin and bones then,” Eugene remembers. “We were hungry. In fact we were very hungry all the time. Our stomachs could not have been as big as a closed fist on the average man. Most of our conversations were about food. We suffered hunger pains. We were always hungry.”
By early 1945, the Germans were desperate. Stalag Luft IV was emptied on Feb. 6, 1945, in the midst of a bitterly cold winter. Prisoners weakened by months of near-starvation began the cross-Germany march.
For 80 days covering as much as 800 miles — a walk from here to Dallas, Texas — frail and weakened men marched. “None of us had any clothing except what we were wearing, so from the time we left Stalag Luft IV until repatriation we wore the same dirty, filthy, lice-infested clothing. This caused all kinds of sores and rashes. … Most of the time … we slept beside the road in temperatures as low as 15 degrees without any bedding or covering whether it was snowing, sleeting or what. Most of us suffered pneumonia, frostbite, freezing, dysentery, etc. A lot of prisoners died on the march,” he says.
His accounts of that ordeal, of surviving on the march by eating dried sugar beets and oats intended for livestock, inspire awe at the resiliency of individuals to endure suffering.
The ordeal ended on the morning of April 26. About 100 of the prisoners had been herded into a barn near the Elb River the night before. They awoke to find the Germans had stacked their weapons and offered surrender. Adolf Hitler committed suicide five days later. For Eugene, who weighed 90 pounds, liberation had come because American soldiers had reached the river.
So it was that six decades ago, a man — whose bravery and personal endurance and sacrifice helped to guarantee the liberties and the freedoms we take for granted — himself became a free man.
Families are made strong by their successes, sure. But in the hardships we all inevitably face in life, we are strengthened by the knowledge that we come — and all of us in America do — from the stock of Woodrow Eugene Wooten. They exist in every family, and each with a story children should hear and a lesson they should know.
It is July 4th. Independence Day. A day to tell America’s story.
I tell you America’s story. It is that every generation inherits a trust, a sacred trust, to preserve the next generation’s freedoms. Our obligations are not abstractions. They are as real as the life and service of Woodrow Eugene Wooten. As individuals, we don’t choose wars. We choose honor — and accept the duty that follows.
At 7:55 a.m. on the 61st day of a POW’s Black Hunger Death March, a baby boy was born free in the hospital near the farm that Eugene left behind.
To the cousin, now 84, that the baby boy might never have known but for a preacher’s ramble, July 4th is an appropriate occasion to say what is in my heart: You saved us, buddy. For the chance to be born free, a grateful family and nation offer thanks.
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By @@
July 4, 2006 08:58 AM | Link to this
A circular continuum of freedom worth remembering and honoring. Thank you Mr. Woodrow Eugene Wooten, and thank you Jim for sharing.
By Van
July 4, 2006 10:00 AM | Link to this
Woodrow Eugene Wooten,
Men like you are a rareity today, thank you.
By RW-(the original)
July 4, 2006 10:48 AM | Link to this
Van,
I really don’t think men like Woodrow Eugene Wooten are a rarity today at all. As Jim points out, every family has them in some fashion or form and if you boil it down to suffering and sacrificing in a time of a war for our very existence we have Woodrow Eugene Wooten’s putting us ahead of themselves every day right now.
The stories we see publicly are the stories of the bad apples, the stories of great sacrifice will be told in private many years from now.
God bless our soldiers in harm’s way and Happy Birthday America!
By Ann
July 4, 2006 11:01 AM | Link to this
We may never see the likes of those men from ‘The Greatest Generation’ again. I fear that we won’t, but pray that we will. Sure, every family has them now, but like Jim’s family, they are in their last days. And so many of them rarely speak of their time in the service. Thanks for the piece honoring your cousin, Jim. I wish to honor my many great uncles who fought in WW2, cousins who fought and died in Korea and Vietnam, and to those brave souls who’ve served and died in the Middle East.
It’s interesting to think about ‘fighting for freedom’. Is that freedom to tell others what to do? Or freedom to make our own choices in our lives?
These days, it often seems the former. Happy Independence Day everyone.
By Ugotta B. Kidding
July 4, 2006 11:47 AM | Link to this
Yes those were great men and I salute and honor them and their sacrifices not just this day but everyday. There’s been great men that have fought and died for this country since its beginning. Having two sons that served in Iraq, I also understand and appreciate the sacrifices of today’s brave young men that are fighting and dying for OUR freedoms and the freedoms of others. If you want to know whether we should be in Iraq, don’t poll the American people…ASK THE SERVICMEN AND WOMEN SERVING THERE!!! Their’s is the voice that should be heard loudest. They are there where the rubber meets the road and I trust their judgement. Being there, they certainly know more than YOU OR I…
By Sally Walker
July 4, 2006 12:03 PM | Link to this
Thank you, thank you for sharing this real-life story of one of our military who served his country, suffered and sacrificed, that we might have the freedoms we so often take for granted. It was especially heartwarming in that I read it July 4th! This should be inevery newspaper and on every radio/TV broadcast in the U.S.A.! Sally in Columbus
By Minuteman
July 4, 2006 12:07 PM | Link to this
My dad flew fighter escort for B-24 and B-17 bombardiers like Woodrow Eugene Wooten. He flew P-47s before, during, and after the Bulge. In fact, during the Bulge, my dad’s unit had to bug out as the Germans closed in on their airbase in Belgium.
Once, while taxing for takeoff to join a bombing run, my dad noticed a dead German pilot whose body was just laying there at the end of the runway, and he says he remembers thinking that he hoped his day would end better than that poor soul’s.
On another mission, my dad’s P-47 fighter suffered such a flak hit, that his wing commander ordered him to bail out over Germany. My dad refused and barely nursed his smoke-trailing plane to home base.
One other time, my dad was in position to shoot down a German plane, but the wing commander ordered him to stand down, so that he could take the shot instead. (the rat). This time my dad complied with the order, even though it was his one and only chance to shoot down the increasingly rare German planes.
Many missions were free-for-alls in which my dad could roam over Germany at will shooting anything that moved. The Germans used to conceal ammo and oil in pack mule trains and horse drawn carts, so those were fair game.
When his wing commander reviewed the films from the wing cameras that recorded my dad’s strafing runs, he continually remarked that he never saw a pilot push the safety envelope of altitude and proximity to the target.
My dad flew jets in the Korean War, and C-47s in Vietnam. That’s hundreds of combat missions during his Air Force career.
Thank you, Dad and Woodrow E. Wooten. Happy Birthday USA!!
BTW: My dad ran the Peachtree today. He’s 84 and a really good bowler. I’m so lucky to have both parents, Depression-era Greatests, who still have their faith, their patriotism, and their youth.
By Cletus Snow
July 4, 2006 12:33 PM | Link to this
There were many men during WW2 with the courage,commitment and heroism of Woodrow Wooten.He was of a generation that changed the face of the planet,there will never be another generation such as this.The women of that generation were also exceptional,they came out of the kitchens and off the farms to build the ships,tanks and airplanes the men used to defeat the Germans and Japanese.Their numbers get smaller every year,soon they will be gone,and it saddens me. We still have people of great courage and committment,but they are few.Maybe there will be another generation as great as they were,but I don’t see it in my lifetime
By fk
July 4, 2006 03:52 PM | Link to this
A wonderful story to share today. My dad, too, served during WWII. He was a First Lieutenant in the US Army’s 1st Armored Tank Division. He turned 87 in June. He rarely speaks of his experiences during the war. He spent most of his time in Italy, and they eventually made their way into Germany. He served during Korea, also, but not abroad.
Both of my parents are products of the Great Depression. They raised ten children on a policeman’s salary. They are truly a selfless generation. Lucky for me, I am going to see them at the end of this week…and my 15 year old appreciates them the more he learns about them. Keep sharing the stories.
By Jeff
July 4, 2006 03:59 PM | Link to this
I too find it honorable… yet depressing… that these men don’t share their stories. Their lives should teach us lessons of our own.
I just finished reading James Bradley’s Flags of our Fathers last week, about the Iwo Jima flagraising but more importantly the story of the men themselves… truly inspiring, and a GREAT read!
By Minuteman
July 4, 2006 04:43 PM | Link to this
War is too painful, mister. That’s why they wont talk about it. It teaches you only that human beings are blood and guts, and they break. If diplomacy could have kept our parents home then by all means they should have talked it over.
But then you see Hitler in the newreels. You see the film of Pearl Harbor. When the hun attacks, he’s just not listening. You have to destroy him, and that’s where our parents came in.
My dad says that when Japan surrendered, he was on a boat headed for the Pacific Theatre to escort bombers into Japan, and he reflected that he was crushed that the fun was over. Where do we get such men? They loved their country so much that they laughed at disaster and sacrifice. I fall one payment behind in my rent and I need a zanax.
I hope we’ve got the will to keep this great county our father’s saved. That’s why we support the troops even if we think our leaders are fools. I have to respect the commander in chief - and I do willingly because of my father’s sacrifice - even if I dont respect the man who won the ‘04 election.
By Buckhead Bill
July 4, 2006 04:57 PM | Link to this
There are sheep and sheepdogs. You Mr. Woodrow E Wooten are a sheepdog. The sheep can depend on the Sheepdogs to save them, even though many of them do not deserve saving.
By Christ
July 4, 2006 05:15 PM | Link to this
Wow. Wonderful read on July 4th.
By On the other hand:
July 5, 2006 08:50 AM | Link to this
I agree with Sally Walker, this should be in every newspaper. Men like Mr. Woodrow Wooten and the others mentioned are examples of the kinds of men and women we need to be raising now. Thank you Veterans! Great article.
By Dusty
July 5, 2006 11:50 AM | Link to this
Late Night Thoughts of Woodrow Eugene Wooten
Lightning flash and in the night one tiny flying flicker responds as if in hope to change one spot of darkness.
I watch a flag stir gently over the mailbox.
My thoughts come of one who held on in the anger of war, from burning bomber to prison camp. Torture and hunger. Death for some. Military capture and evil. He held on.
That one spot of his soul would not budge. Would not give up. He survived. He came home.
From the quiet places of his mind, few words escape; his survival in recesses seldom opened. Look forward and seldom back and rest away from the grievous agonies of war. He sees no reason for his extraordinary service to be called extraordinary. It was his country and his duty. A man does his duty. Woodrow Eugene Wooten is such a man.
That one spot of his soul would not budge. Would
By Laura Caplan
July 5, 2006 03:03 PM | Link to this
My father, Dr. Leslie Caplan, was a POW at Stalag Luft 4, and accompanied the American POWs on the bitter march across Germany as their doctor. I have traveled the country collecting stories from the men of Stalag Luft IV, and have been continuously awed by their courage and strength of heart. While on the death march, when one man staggered or fell, another came to help him or carry his pack. While suffering from starvation, exhaustion and exposure, many of these same men pulled the sick wagon that carried those to ill to walk. The story above mentions that when Mr. Wooten was “transferred from one prison camp to another, he was forced to stand packed with other prisoners without food, water or bathroom access for 38 hours. Upon arriving, he and others were forced to run about three miles through lines of German civilians throwing bricks, rocks and other debris. Those who fell were clubbed by guards or attacked by dogs.” This incident, known as “The Run Up The Road” occurred in the July heat of 1944 when the prisoners of Stalag Luft 6 were transferred to Stalag Luft 4. First the men languished while stuffed into the filthy hot hulls of coal ships, and then cattle cars. Subsequently, during the horrific run, the men were shackled to each other in pairs and made to run while wearing their overcoats, which the Germans would not allow them to remove. These brave men were forced to make this run after having no food or water for 3 days. Again when a man fell, another somehow managed to carry him along, and because of that, no man died. The Run Up The Road to Stalag Luft 4 and the Death March from there are two of the worst atrocities perpetuated upon Allied POWs in World War II, yet most Americans have never heard of them. All of these brave men deserve our tremendous gratitude and recognition for their outstanding service to our country. There are no better human beings to be found anywhere. I personally salute Mr. Wooten, and all of the men of Stalags Luft 6 and 4. For more information about their experiences, see : text to be linked
By Doug Embry
July 6, 2006 12:59 PM | Link to this
As a fellow former Georgia Guardsman, I have enjoyed your columns and particularly your views and the paper’s coverage of the 48th Brigade. Your story Tuesday of your uncle Dink’s experiences in WWII was touching evidence of the courage and tenacity of our servicemen. It was a great reminder that freedom isn’t free.
By Huntsville Pat
July 6, 2006 01:39 PM | Link to this
The march between German POW camps was something I’d never heard of before. When I think of this kind of atrocity, I always think of the Japanese Bataan Death March. It appears that the Germans were as bad as the Japanese in the treatment of Western Allied prisoners. Of course, I am award of their treatment of slavic prisoners and of the concentration camps for those other considered “inferior” to the Master Race.
By Elizabeth
July 6, 2006 03:47 PM | Link to this
Thank you for the article. My Father-in-law was a career air force office and served in WWII, Korea and Viet Nam. For the first time this last year he finally spoke about his time in those wars. He was awarded four Distinguished Flying Crosses and many other medals of which he also never spoke. I am very proud that I know him. He was a hero. There were many hero’s then and still are today in a war that should never have been started.
By Stratton Beesley
July 8, 2006 01:05 PM | Link to this
A Fourth of July Salute to Mr. Wooten and all Veterans and their Familys as well as all Service Men and Familys everywhere.
I can well relate to Mr. Wootens POW experiences. I was a tailgunner on a B-24 flying out of Italy with the 450th BG, 720th SQD.; shot down 4/29/44 while bombing Naval Installations in Toulon, France; spent three days in a life raft in the Mediterranean before being rescued by the Germans; Incarcerated in Stalag Luft 4 in early May prior to the “Heydekrug Run”; marched out of Luft 4 on Feb. 6, 1945; experienced the 86 day “Death March” where I witnessed Capt. Caplan tirelessly, and without regard to his own well being treat the physical and mental ills of hundreds of fellow POWs; his lectures to groups of men about ” staying strong and struggling on” became contageous to the point that many POWs were helping each other to survive; I personally witnessed Capt. Caplan at Stalag Eleven B in Folingbostle tell the German Commander, without regard to his own life (Caplans), that after seeing the “starvation and death” within the Camp Eleven B” he would not allow his “Sick Party” to enter the Camp as ordered and told the “Sick Party” to “March On” which we did.
Dr. Caplan saved my life by treating my Diptheria and preventing my dying within the depths of Stalag Eleven B.
The Wooten story should be remembered in history as well as the many stories told about this period of WWII.