W HEN German soldier Eberhard Wendler was captured in Normandy on July 26, 1944, he claims he didn't even know what a Nazi was.
He only found out during his years at a prisoner of war camp in High Garrett near Braintree, and by the time he was freed on September 23, 1947, he no longer considered himself German.
After news of Hitler's defeat spread across the Channel and British soldiers began filtering home, he remembers very distinctly the moment which changed the rest of his life.
"An English Army unit marched into the camp soon after the war had ended and herded all the Germans into one of the big huts," he said.
"They forced us to watch a film which showed all the horrendous things the Germans did in the concentration camps. I couldn't believe it and not one of us spoke a word after it ended."
Nearly 60 years later, and with a British passport to his name, the Saxony-born Braintree pensioner revealed to the Chronicle why he decided to stay in Essex as a 21-year-old.
He said: "I just thought to myself, 'if that's what my people did, I don't want to belong to them'. Those stupid people wanted me to lay down my life for them; I felt ashamed to be German."
The news came at a time when all Eberhard had been longing for was a return to his home town of Werda in East Germany, and he knew it spelled the end of a quick reunion with his family.
He remembers how there were some talented painters in the camp, with drawings of imaginary German villages offering a welcome escape from the depressing daily monotony.
He said: "Up until I watched the videos it had been my dream to go running into my mother's arms. But suddenly the thought of Germany made my blood boil."
In fact, the only contact Eberhard shared with his mother before he returned to Germany for a two-week visit in 1955 was a photo he posted to her of him and his fellow soldiers in High Garrett.
He said the picture broke her heart as none of the ten prisoners in the shot were smiling. All she could do was will her son back home from more than 700 miles away.
In the intervening years until Eberhard was eventually released, his days were spent performing backbreaking hard labour harvesting sugar beet plants.
He would work solidly from Monday to Saturday; enduring most of the day hunched over and covered in mud as the British winters showed no mercy.
Prisoners were expected to be present for morning and evening roll call without fail, and it is a discipline which has remained with the keen motorcyclist throughout his life.
He said: "We would march out in groups of ten and if we overslept or were on the toilet or anything like that, we would automatically get 28 days of solitary confinement.
"So I made sure I was never late. Even now, if I have a doctor's appointment, I make sure I get there half an hour early."
Now 88, Eberhard also recalls how life in the camp could be brutal; infighting was not uncommon and he would always know better than to question the quality and quantity of food he was given.
"Our food would just get slopped in; it was mainly mushy vegetables. The whole country was still on rations, so I suppose people didn't care for feeding prisoners too much either.
"I remember a young chap accused one of the bigger guys of eating more food than everyone else.
"He didn't make a scene in the dining room, but when we got back to our hut he beat him black and blue.
"We never had any rest either; we were always caked in mud and soaked right through during winter. Our woollen gloves would get soaked in no time.
"The lorry would take us straight from our accommodation to the fields so we didn't have any contact with English people."
There were about 800 soldiers imprisoned in the camp, but Eberhard was in the minority when he decided to shun a return to Germany after he was freed from captivity.
German soldiers were only allowed to stay in the country on the proviso they helped kick-start the agricultural industry, and the former precision instrument maker did just that until the early 1950s.
But despite finding work on a farm belonging to Charles Marshall in Bocking after his release, Eberhard still had a tough time settling in to Essex life.
Without being able to speak any English, he picked up the language solely from his colleagues at the farm and from his visits to Bocking Church each Sunday.
His early hardships were epitomised when the introvert was left no choice but to find another congregation after overhearing his minister say the only good German was a dead one.
"I didn't like that very much," he admits, with a grimace. "So I started going to a church in Witham and that is where I met my wife Kathleen in 1962. It's a funny business how things turn out."
The unlikely couple married at the town's Guithavon Valley Evangelical Church in 1963, enjoying their first date in Chelmsford High Street the year before.
But even this union was shrouded in tragedy as Eberhard recalls the day he was supposed to meet Kathleen's father for the first time.
He said: "We had been going to the same church for some time, but the same day she invited me to tea to meet her family, her father died.
"Even though I saw him in church I never actually spoke to him, but he seemed to approve. We lived in a council house with Kathleen's mother for three years before we could afford our own place."
The newlyweds duly saved up until they had enough money to move into their own home in Brandon Road, Braintree, in 1966.
Kathleen, now 83, worked at Hoffmann ball-bearing factory in Chelmsford until it closed in 1989.
Eberhard was employed as a metal worker for 15 years before joining Crompton in Chelmsford for more than two decades until he retired in 1991.
The former prisoner of war was keen to join Marconi, but the union workers would not allow Germans to join their ranks.
The pair made an official visit to meet Eberhard's family in the mid-1960s as they drove across Europe in their Ford Anglia, but it was a far less traumatic experience than the 88-year-old's first return home in 1955.
After he was released, he wrote to the authorities in East Germany for a visa as his family was desperate to see him, but they rejected his application as he had decided to stay in England.
So he rode his Triumph Speed Twin motorbike across Europe until he reached his uncle in north-west Germany.
He was able to sneak him a German identity card to make the trip across to the Russian-controlled east.
He said: "When I arrived in Werda in 1955, I didn't recognise my brother and he didn't recognise me. I had been away from home for 11 years.
"When I left for war he was just a boy and he had grown into a man and was married with children. It was actually his wife, who I had never met before, who recognised me from pictures.
"My mother wouldn't stop crying when she saw me, I felt terrible that I hadn't been to see them sooner. They were over the moon. My mother went around telling the whole town, but I didn't want her to tell too many people as I wasn't supposed to be there.
"But when I returned again with Kathleen in the 60s I was a British citizen and we didn't have to be so secretive. They all loved Kathleen.
"My mother, Erna, my father, Walter and my brother, Gert, have all since passed away but I still have three nieces in Germany. I send them birthday cards and Christmas cards every year."
The Braintree resident revealed that he now considers himself an Englishman and, although he misses German sausages, his favourite dish is beef with Yorkshire pudding.
But despite having claimed British citizenship by the 1966 World Cup final, it would seem it wasn't as easy as he makes out to cut all ties with his motherland as he was happy to see either team win.
Eberhard's story makes up part of the book, Hitler's Last Army: German POWs In Britain by Robin Quinn
![Jailed in Essex, but German Prisoner of War, now 88, has made Braintree his home Jailed in Essex, but German Prisoner of War, now 88, has made Braintree his home]()