Outskirts Press, INC.

"Twins Behind Enemy Lines"

A true WWII account of twin brother fighter pilots Delbert and Delmer Forsberg, who along with their crews were shot down behind enemy lines while flying B-24 Liberator Bombers. With the help of Yugoslavian Partisans, Delbert and his crew would make a perilous escape hiking rugged mountains at night and remain hidden during the day, at times being so close to the enemy he could have touched them. Delmer and all but one of his crew would be captured by the Germans becoming Prisoners of War, forcibly marched from Stalag to Stalag often in below freezing conditions. At one point, Hitler would give orders for the prisoners to be marched to their final destination in dead of winter without benefit of shoes or belts to prevent their escape. Always on the verge of starvation, Delmer tells about daily survival inside prison camps and how innovative humans can be in such dire circumstances. Neither twin would know the fate of the other until after the war ended.

Delbert – Day 7 of our escape. We were cooped up in an old abandoned musty pump house for a second day hoping the nearby enemy would change directions allowing us to continue our night time escape. Our Partisan guides had left saying someone else would be in contact with us later that day. The hours passed agonizingly slow as we sat in the darkness of the building. A few dilapidated wall slats let in a small amount of daylight allowing us to glimpse outside without being detected. We had to constantly remain very quiet so as not to draw attention to ourselves. Sometime during the day, our quiet time was interrupted by the sound of many male voices. We didn’t understand their language but it was certain they weren’t Allies. A detachment of enemy soldiers had come into our area! I know I wasn’t the only one whose heart was pounding in his chest as the sound of their footsteps got closer and closer to the pump house. We quickly lined up against the outside wall standing still as stones in case the soldiers looked through the dirty window above our heads. The only thing moving was the trickle of nervous sweat running down our faces and necks. The sound of dead leaves and twigs being trampled was getting closer and closer to where we were. The voices and chatter of several men stopped. Continuing their conversations, they now stood inches from our backs against the wall. I thought to myself this is it. Surely they’re going to bust down the door and find us. Someone tinkered with the locked door knob. I said a prayer asking for protection. We could hear someone else trying to see through the filthy window above our heads. Through the small slats between the wall boards I could horrifyingly see a pair of uniformed legs close enough that I could have reached out and touched them. The air was stifling making it hard to breathe. Any cough or sneeze on our part would guarantee our execution or torture. We’d been told the Ustachi’s took a great deal of pleasure in dismembering their enemies then hang their dog tags on tree branches as trophies. We could only hope they wouldn’t camp here for the evening.



Delmer – Daily Life in POW Prison Camp



We were given a week’s notice of an expected move to another Stalag. Red Cross parcels previously kept from us suddenly appeared. The guards told us we could take as many items as we wished as long as we could carry them. I managed to fashion a backpack from an old surplus coat in order to carry as much food as I could. In the meantime, Hitler had stipulated that our shoes and belts were to be collected to reduce attempts at escape. This was cause for much worry. How could we manage to walk for miles in the dead of winter with possible rain or snow wearing only our socks? We’d get sick or worse for sure. I know our prayers were answered when General Goehring, who had genuine respect for aviators intervened and succeeded in rescinding Hitler’s orders. Late one evening we received orders to evacuate camp. It was only ten degrees outside from what the guards told us. I was dressed warmly, but as I stepped outside into the biting cold stepping into several inches of snow, I wondered how long I could stay warm. The icy wind stung our faces immediately as we began our march. The first ten hours we walked fifty minutes and rested ten. Due to our near starvation diets and weakness, we all began unloading our food parcels as our legs became numb from the cold and our energy factor waned. Local town’s people suddenly appeared out of the shadows quickly grabbing our discarded items. We marched until10:30 that morning and finally were allowed a four hour rest. Up until now none of us had been able to relieve ourselves. I spotted something like an apple lying on the ground near a pig troth. Making sure the guards weren’t watching me, I picked it up noticing it was mostly rotten but rubbing off some loose dirt I managed to eat a couple bites. Soon we were back on the march not daring to show any kind of weakness. We’d been warned to keep up or we’d be taken out of the group never to be seen again.