In 1944, World War II was ravaging Europe, and Lt. Lawson Corley
was a lead bombardier in the 705th bomb squadron in the U.S. Air Force.
His 10-member crew had launched a successful bombing raid –
which included an unexpected bonus of annihilating an enemy ammunition site
– when their plane was hit.
In 1944, World War II was ravaging Europe, and Lt. Lawson Corley
was a lead bombardier in the 705th bomb squadron in the U.S. Air Force.
His 10-member crew had launched a successful bombing raid –
which included an unexpected bonus of annihilating an enemy ammunition site
– when their plane was hit.
The only choice for the crew was to bail out and hope they
would not be captured. However, anti-aircraft flak had lodged in Corleys
backpack, where his parachute was located.
Nevertheless, Corley jumped, hoping his chute would open. He
pulled his ripcord, which detached in his hand. As he saw the earth rushing
closer, he says he knew death was imminent. He remembers saying a quick prayer
to God, pledging to serve him if he would spare his life.
His parachute opened at treetop level. The hard jolt to the
ground knocked the 20-year-old unconscious. He was discovered by the Belgian
underground and hidden in a ditch with the promise of being retrieved under
the cover of darkness.
However, help never arrived. Instead, Corley awakened to the
sound of German shepherd dogs snarling above him.
Corley was dragged by German soldiers to a cubicle-size dungeon
with a wooden board for a bed. His injuries included a broken back and a ruptured
kidney and spleen that went unattended for several days while he was being interrogated.
At one point, Corley was taken to a Nazi Gestapo commandant.
“He demanded that I give him information on the Normandy invasion, but
I pleaded ignorance,” Corley says. “He tried to entice me with the
promise of medical care.”
Corley refused to cooperate, asking his enemy if he would reveal
crucial information if he were captured. Indignant, the officer replied in perfect
English that he would not.
“Im just as good a soldier as you are, sir,”
Corley replied. The Germans fist flying toward his face was the last thing
Corley says he remembers. The beating resulted in the loss of 11 teeth, a broken
nose and a ruptured eardrum.
Corley regained consciousness in a Nazi hospital in Belgium.
His ruptured kidney continually would fill with blood, and German attendants
forced a young Belgian boy to drain it.
The 15-year-old boy was a member of the Belgian underground
and returned one day with German identification papers he had retrieved from
a soldier he had killed.
The boy wrapped the papers in the bandages on Corleys
back so he could use them if he ever was able to escape.
Before long, Corley was taken to the first of three prisoner
of war camps, where he would spend the next 11 months.
His first Christmas as a prisoner of war was at Stalag Luft
III in Poland. On Christmas Eve, the guards had promised the Americans they
could visit buddies in other barracks.
An avid singer, Corley went from barrack to barrack, visiting
fellow prisoners and singing Christmas carols. Walking through the snow to his
barrack, he saw a guard standing sentry in the moonlight. Having taught himself
German, Corley stopped and sang the carol “Silent Night” to the guard
in German – “Stille nacht, heilige nacht.”
At the songs conclusion, the Nazi replied twice in German,
“Yes, I understand.”
Corley went on, not realizing how the act would revisit him.
Time marched on for the 10,000 captured Air Force officers
housed at Stalag Luft III. But by January 1945, the Germans knew the war was
turning on them. In an effort to use prisoners of war as negotiating tools,
the command was given to relocate them to different camps. In January and February,
when temperatures were well below zero, the men were marched from Poland to
Nuremberg in central Germany.
“I can remember how cold it was as we marched through
seven inches of snow, …” Corley says. “We would march for 55 minutes
at a time and were given a five-minute break. At one point, we saw an airplane
dropping altitude and heading toward us. Our instinct was to dive for safety.
I dove into a frozen ditch, the ice cracked and I went under water.”
Corley had only a wet blanket to try to keep dry. During one
break, he passed out from the cold, only to awake to the ferocious bite of a
German shepherd dog on his arm.
At another point, when he could go no farther, a German soldier
came up to him and twice jammed his bayonet into Corleys back and demanded
that he “walk or die.”
The prisoners were housed in Nuremberg for only a short time
before they were forced to march to another site.
Corley decided to escape instead.
The prisoners were being kept in a barnyard area close to drainage
ditches used for cattle excrement. The-six-foot-two American trudged through
the vile ditch until he was out of the camp. A civilian aided him with food
but warned him he was in imminent danger and would be safer back in the camp.
Weighing the odds, Corley made the decision to return.
He almost had made it when he came upon a German soldier pointing
his gun at him from the top of the ditch.
“The guard said the Fuhrer had ordered them to shoot any
prisoners trying to escape,” Corley recounts. “I started to reason
with him, asking him if he wanted to see his family after the war was over.
Hearing my voice, he asked me if I was the prisoner who had sung Stille
Nacht to him. I said I was the one, and he let me pass.”
Shortly after this episode, General George Patton and his troops
liberated the imprisoned heroes. Corley recalls being summoned and quizzed by
the general about his treatment. When Corley shared the inhumane treatment he
had been subjected to, Patton ordered the Nazi soldier to be brought to him.
“The soldier who had stabbed me was brought to General
Patton,” Corley relates. “He pulled out his gun, pointed it at the
Nazi and asked if I wanted him shot for what he had done to me. I asked the
general to spare his life, telling him there had been enough killing in this
war.”
Now, every Christmas season, Corley is asked to sing at his South Roebuck Baptist
Church in Birmingham, Ala., where he is a member. “Silent Night” is
always on his repertoire. He sings it in German and then shares his long-ago
story of how God saved his life on a snowy Christmas Eve. (BP)