Foreword written by Vicki Sorensen
My father, Frank Sorensen, immigrated to Canada from Roskilde, Denmark with his family in August 1939. He volunteered in the Royal Canadian Air Force in March 1941 and trained to become a Spitfire fighter pilot. He was shot down while serving with RAF 232 Squadron, over Tunisia, in North Africa on April 11, 1943 and became a prisoner of war at Stalag Luft III. He was an active participant in the tunnel digging operations that was later known as The Great Escape.
After my father’s death February 5th, 2010, when he was 87, I came into possession of letters written by him to his parents during the war that they had saved and given back to him. Along with the letters were numerous photos and service record documents. There were 174 letters in total which start from C.O.T.C., 1940, #1 Manning Depot, #3 Initial Flying Training School, #2 Elementary Flying Training School, #11 Service Flying Training School; all in Canada in 1941 to #17 A.F.U. (Advanced Flying Unit) and #53 O.T.U. (Operational Training Unit) in England in 1942. Then, his service from 1942 in RCAF 403 Squadron, in England, transferring to RAF 232 Squadron in Scotland, then to North Africa. Numerous letters are from 1943 and 1944 from Stalag Luft III, and then a handful from 1945. There were only two short letters from the long march from Sagan to Lubeck – one in March letting his parents know he was still all right, and one in May when they had just been liberated.
February 10, 1943
Royal Air Force, 232 Squadron
British North African Force
North Africa
Dear Mother & Dad;
Received Dad’s air letter of 9 of January, the first letter this year, the fourth letter received here in North Africa. By the way, Dad’s letters are the only ones I’ve had so far. I’ve had one filled with Canadian mail from home, which was very welcome.
Sorry to hear about your lumbago. I wonder if it’s the English climate that doesn’t agree with you. You might be able to convince your “brass hobs” that that is the case, and under such conditions, get posted back to Canada.
I am keeping 100% fit, as most of us are. As I have said before, the food is good, we now get the odd bar of chocolate and chewing gum and cigarettes, the latter of which I give to my fitter-rigger. My fitter is a keen chap. I rather like him.
Received an air letter from Mother dated 29/12-42 also a Christmas parcel from Mr. & Mrs. Spice. I wonder if I told you about them. I met them in Yorkton. They’ve been very kind and thoughtful to me. I wish Mother would write to her if you have time.
Mrs. & Mrs. R.C. Spice
170 Tupper Avenue
Yorkton, Saskatchewan
I spent quite a bit of my spare time in their home.
Right now I have opened the parcel a lovely smell of Christmas came from it. There’s a lovely Christmas cake, 1 pound of butter and cheese some chocolate and candy, chewing gum, a link of sausages, 1 pair of black socks and shaving soap and blades, a bar of laundry soap and a Palmolive. You can imagine how welcome it all was, especially out here. I could have kissed the old lady for it.
At present I have a bath full of water (from the brook) on a Primus stove and judging by the sound of it I ought to have a warm bath tonight.
I’d like to credit Dad’s banking account with what’s left in mine say once a month if possible, as I would imagine that you could transfer it to Canada with your own cheques. My money would be of more use in Canada than in my branch in England. I don’t quite know how to go about it but I’ll enclose a note which you can take to the bank. Let me know what can be done about it if this doesn’t work. I don’t like the idea of sending cheques nowadays. If you don’t want my balance, I mean if you can’t transfer it to Canada don’t bother.
We have quite a heavy messing fee out here but besides that and a few odd francs spent on the Naafi I spend no money at all. Well, I think I’ll jump into my bath and get to bed. Will fill this page out tomorrow.
This isn’t tomorrow, but 16/2. It has been a very dull day, heavy rain storms and a cold wind didn’t make anyone feel any happier. Had another sink-bath full over my Primus this evening so you see, I’m doing ok as regards baths. My supply of socks is becoming more and more u/s and the problem is becoming very serious; some of these days I’ll have to get down to needle and thread or else make friends with a nurse from the nearest English hospital. Talking about nurses, I know one already but she is rather old, still – if she can darn socks ok.
Am glad to hear that Mother has got rid of the students. I too, think that you have done your bit. Well (the usual way to end a letter) I must be very sleepy as I keep on making mistakes in writing.
Fondest love and a great big hug for Mother & IE, Frank
February 20, 1943
Royal Air Force, 232 Squadron
British North African Force
North Africa
Dear Mother & Dad;
We had been expecting a lot of mail in today and we were not disappointed. I went down with the Adjutant earlier this evening to the Naafi tent where the Corporal in charge was busy sorting out the mail. There I got your three air letters of January 13,-21-24, the reading of which I thoroughly enjoyed. There was also one from Yorkton written by the young daughter (IE’s age) of the family, a very nice letter indeed, just like IE would have written it; she is also the cleverest girl in her class. I think it’s awfully sweet of them to remember me, I told you in No. 2 that I had received a lovely parcel as a Christmas present from them.
While I remember it: there’s no air mail service yet. You may inquire later on though.
I wish I could write you more about my work and my surroundings, my impressions than I already have. I’m afraid I’ll have to leave that to my diary to tell when I come back, as censorship is very strict. I bought a neat little book as a diary and looking through it now I found that I write every other or third day in it, which I think is quite good considering who’s doing it. In that book I’ve got everything, every important and many less important events of “yesterday” and “today.”
There’s a party in the mess tent for the senior NCOs. The band is present and the drinks are flowing freely, the steady stream increasing as the hours pass by. That party cost each officer 15 shillings, which I take a completely black view of. We had some Army nurses up here some time ago, and I then tried the French wine for the first time with a certain unpleasant event of the day as an excuse. I must admit I got really drunk that night, but since then I haven’t touched the ruddy stuff. It doesn’t tempt me at all.
I just changed my stockings and put my flying boots on; I had got my feet wet and consequently cold. The rains is falling heavily on my tent, the good old oil stove is keeping the air in here lovely and warm. From the mess tent comes the sound of well known tunes, dirty ones and clean ones, mostly dirty ones. I wonder if they’ll be aware of my absence, I hope not.
I’m writing this on a mirror instead of my chess board, I think I prefer this. Let me know if you have any difficulties with my hand writing. So far no complaints. We are very short of reading matter out here such as newspapers and weeklies. Since I have got back to routine work again, I find little time and inclination for much reading; I feel too tired at the end of a long day to sit down and read. I usually sit by the fire place in the mess playing a quiet, slow game of chess, at the same time listening to what’s being said. I find that chess trains one to think way ahead even with ordinary problems during the day. Do you experience the same? I’d like to give Eric a game now, you for that matter, too. I just remembered that you won most of the games we played. Bad show. I’ll bet I could beat you now, every time.
They are now singing the first song I learnt when I joined up. Seems a long time ago, those days in Canada, those happy days. After joining up, time went very fast, every day taught me a new lesson every day had something new and exciting to offer, and they still have, now more than ever.
February 21, 1943
There will be more mail in today so everybody is happy today, answering letters. I suddenly remembered the new uniform I have at your flat, hope to be wearing it soon. I wish I hadn’t taken my great coat with me, as it is getting real operational out here, not by constant wear and tear but by handling and moving around. I wonder if I could send it home. I am sending this air mail or partly air mail by putting a stamp on it. Let me know how long it takes. So Eric has got his two pips now, good show; I am interested to know what that special course is about. I wrote to Fred with that address but no answer.
Readers Digest would, by the way, be very welcome out here. Have also written to the Dean of Service. Am looking forward to receiving the letters from home which Dad mentioned in his of 21/1-43.
Fondest love to all and GC, Frank
RAF 232 Squadron
Photo from the collection of Frank Sorensen courtesy Vicki Sorensen
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Flight Lieutenant Frank Sorensen 