Many thanks.
I remember bringing back a couple of loads of fruit from Turkey in the early eighties. One load of dried Apricots that were in a tilt which were packed in two kilogram plain, white cardboard boxes for delivery to a place in London. One of the things that stands out about that load was that they put a wooden plank from the ground into the back of the tilt and then what seemed like dozens of kids carrying about five boxes at a time, all handball, no pallets or rollers then started loading me. It must of taken over six hours to complete the eighteen ton load and the boss gave me a couple of free boxes as a gift. When I arrived in London I had to back on to a bay and I can remember as soon as I opened up a couple of Turkish guys started opening up a few boxes and eating them. I wasnât very happy about that and I told them that they should sign the C.M.R. before they started stealing the load. The two guys looked at me astounded and one of then said âI am the importerâ. 
I did a load of Hazelnuts once from Samsun on the Black Sea coast which were bound for Cadburyâs in Birmingham but after I had cleared in Dover the agent told me to deliver them to a warehouse in I.I.R.C. Surrey Docks in London.
We had taken wide loads out from the U.K. on tri axle low loaders to an America Air Force radar station further along the coast and we had to have a Turkish Army armed guard with us in the cab from Sinop up to where the base was. There were over thirty loads on that job which were all Portacabins but not all of us had to reload Hazel nuts although I do remember some of our guys reloading Tangerines from a village near Bodrum.
I bet that I wasnât the only one to buy a string bag of Tangerines for about a quid along the Turkish roadside near Gaziantep. 
And as regards âMickey sealsâ, I remember rummaging through Billy Macdonalds tool box sometime in the eighties when I came across an old three penny bit piece and I asked him if I could have it. He replied âno, I never know when I might need to make a U.K. customs seal againâ.
He then told me that while he was parked up one night in Bulgaria in the early seventies some body had ripped his seal off and he had managed to make a âPlumbâ using the three penny bit which had a Portcullis embossed on it, knowing Billy, it didnât surprise me.
With the magic of Google Earth isnât it great to see some of those old places like the Salt Lake near Aksaray where we used to park up for a brew but wow how the area has changed over the last forty years. 
earth.google.com/web/@38.812275 ⊠TnMwWFEQAg
A load of hazel nuts from Samsun.
earth.google.com/web/search/Sun ⊠ZWlxV0EQAg
Turkish Army Escorts.
mushroomman:
I remember bringing back a couple of loads of fruit from Turkey in the early eighties. One load of dried Apricots that were in a tilt which were packed in two kilogram plain, white cardboard boxes for delivery to a place in London. One of the things that stands out about that load was that they put a wooden plank from the ground into the back of the tilt and then what seemed like dozens of kids carrying about five boxes at a time, all handball, no pallets or rollers then started loading me. It must of taken over six hours to complete the eighteen ton load and the boss gave me a couple of free boxes as a gift. When I arrived in London I had to back on to a bay and I can remember as soon as I opened up a couple of Turkish guys started opening up a few boxes and eating them. I wasnât very happy about that and I told them that they should sign the C.M.R. before they started stealing the load. The two guys looked at me astounded and one of then said âI am the importerâ.
I did a load of Hazelnuts once from Samsun on the Black Sea coast which were bound for Cadburyâs in Birmingham but after I had cleared in Dover the agent told me to deliver them to a warehouse in I.I.R.C. Surrey Docks in London.
We had taken wide loads out from the U.K. on tri axle low loaders to an America Air Force radar station further along the coast and we had to have a Turkish Army armed guard with us in the cab from Sinop up to where the base was. There were over thirty loads on that job which were all Portacabins but not all of us had to reload Hazel nuts although I do remember some of our guys reloading Tangerines from a village near Bodrum.
I bet that I wasnât the only one to buy a string bag of Tangerines for about a quid along the Turkish roadside near Gaziantep.
And as regards âMickey sealsâ, I remember rummaging through Billy Macdonalds tool box sometime in the eighties when I came across an old three penny bit piece and I asked him if I could have it. He replied âno, I never know when I might need to make a U.K. customs seal againâ.
He then told me that while he was parked up one night in Bulgaria in the early seventies some body had ripped his seal off and he had managed to make a âPlumbâ using the three penny bit which had a Portcullis embossed on it, knowing Billy, it didnât surprise me.With the magic of Google Earth isnât it great to see some of those old places like the Salt Lake near Aksaray where we used to park up for a brew but wow how the area has changed over the last forty years.
earth.google.com/web/@38.771634 ⊠NFRYWHcQAg
A load of hazel nuts from Samsun.
2
earth.google.com/web/search/Sun ⊠ZWlxV0EQAg
Turkish Army Escorts.
1
earth.google.com/web/@42.017925 ⊠cEUtZ3cQAg
0
Nice post, Mushroomman! Last time I drove past the Tuz Gulu on the way to Aksaray it was still two way - no dual carriageway; and that was only 20 years ago. Same with the road along the Black Sea coast at Samsun. I remember seeing all the hazel nuts spread out along the roadside to dry out in the sunshine. There were also tea plantations all along their to Rize. Happy days!
Ro
mushroomman:
I remember bringing back a couple of loads of fruit from Turkey in the early eighties. One load of dried Apricots that were in a tilt which were packed in two kilogram plain, white cardboard boxes for delivery to a place in London. One of the things that stands out about that load was that they put a wooden plank from the ground into the back of the tilt and then what seemed like dozens of kids carrying about five boxes at a time, all handball, no pallets or rollers then started loading me. It must of taken over six hours to complete the eighteen ton load and the boss gave me a couple of free boxes as a gift. When I arrived in London I had to back on to a bay and I can remember as soon as I opened up a couple of Turkish guys started opening up a few boxes and eating them. I wasnât very happy about that and I told them that they should sign the C.M.R. before they started stealing the load. The two guys looked at me astounded and one of then said âI am the importerâ.
I did a load of Hazelnuts once from Samsun on the Black Sea coast which were bound for Cadburyâs in Birmingham but after I had cleared in Dover the agent told me to deliver them to a warehouse in I.I.R.C. Surrey Docks in London.
We had taken wide loads out from the U.K. on tri axle low loaders to an America Air Force radar station further along the coast and we had to have a Turkish Army armed guard with us in the cab from Sinop up to where the base was. There were over thirty loads on that job which were all Portacabins but not all of us had to reload Hazel nuts although I do remember some of our guys reloading Tangerines from a village near Bodrum.
I bet that I wasnât the only one to buy a string bag of Tangerines for about a quid along the Turkish roadside near Gaziantep.
And as regards âMickey sealsâ, I remember rummaging through Billy Macdonalds tool box sometime in the eighties when I came across an old three penny bit piece and I asked him if I could have it. He replied âno, I never know when I might need to make a U.K. customs seal againâ.
He then told me that while he was parked up one night in Bulgaria in the early seventies some body had ripped his seal off and he had managed to make a âPlumbâ using the three penny bit which had a Portcullis embossed on it, knowing Billy, it didnât surprise me.With the magic of Google Earth isnât it great to see some of those old places like the Salt Lake near Aksaray where we used to park up for a brew but wow how the area has changed over the last forty years.
earth.google.com/web/@38.812275 ⊠TnMwWFEQAg
A load of hazel nuts from Samsun.
earth.google.com/web/search/Sun ⊠ZWlxV0EQAg
Turkish Army Escorts.
Talking of planks into the back of the lorry, hereâs a picture of the Philopenas up and down a plank unloading my load of KitKats in Kuwait, 1977.
The water melonâs from the kids in the lay-bys were very welcome in the summer for a few pence each.
My only regret is I didnât take enough photoâs.
Steve
Sorry to appear pedantic, re the thread title 
, but there is an Astran 140 in the Scania magazine! A 6x2 rigid, on the M plate, by my reading glasses. Does this vehicle appear in the âregisterâ?
[zb]
anorak:
Sorry to appear pedantic, re the thread title
The only âregisterâ I know of is at the back of Ashleyâs book, The Long Haul Pioneers. Iâve just had a look and thereâs a 110 with a very close number listed but not the one in the picture. I would imagine it was one of the legion units painted in Astran livery but owned by subbies. You got so much per trip if you ran in their colours 
Ro
John West:
newmercman:
Found this on Facebook, definitely British as itâs a 290. Looks like heâs having a bad day.I remember Ashworths. Silver, looked pretty good. I thought they were from around Blackburn, but I consulted Mike Wheatley (wherever the road took me author) and he remembers them as being from the Isle of Man.
John.
I used to work with a lad who did a few trips to the Middle East for Ashworthâs in the seventies.
I am sure that he said that Ashworthâs were from Burnley.
Regards Steve.
John West:
[quote=â5thwheelâ
I suspect someone has climbed the hill shown in this photo, taken by me in January 1976, where John Hallibone in the yellow Daf, Andy West in the Micon 110 (probably his camera) and myself stopped for tea before heading on to Silver Gazoo, and taken a photo looking down on that lay-by.
John do you know what the initials on the two trailers stand for?
David
[/quote]
Finally got to see brother Andy. (Socially distanced of course!) We both have the same memory that the trailers were hired from a company in Manchester. I think itâs AFS. My trailer was from the same place I think, mine said SKI on the side. Whether either logo stood for anything, neither of us remember. A model maker from Carlisle who Andy called Uncle Malcolm made a model of Andyâs 110 and was going to do the AFS trailer, but sadly died before he got to it.
John
[/quote]
Hello John, a guy who I used to work with called Lennie Frost used to drive for a company in Trafford Park in the seventies called SKI which stood for Steve Keller International. I have a feeling that Geoff The Crow R.I.P. also drove for them or his brother was a part owner.
I was parked up once waiting to ship out of Dover Eastern Docks one day in 1980 when a guy came up to me and asked me did I mind if he took a couple of photos of my 280 M.A.N. I said that I didnât mind and we got talking. He told me that he was doing a trip on the continent with his friend, I think that he might of said that they were going to Germany. He told me that taking photos of lorries was his hobby and when I asked him his name he said âMalcolm The Model Man from Carlisleâ.
When I first joined Trucknet I asked if anybody on here knew him as he must of had hundreds of interesting photographs. So I wonder whatever happened to Malcolmâs collection.
Sorry to hear about him passing away.
Regards Steve.
aswoths were from iom my dad did a spell for them but ran continent work from bradford duforest was the agent.
After a long gap, I notice TOPRUN has just posted a new thread on with some cracking pics (an example of which is below). Ro
ERF-NGC-European:
[zb]
anorak:
Sorry to appear pedantic, re the thread titleThe only âregisterâ I know of is at the back of Ashleyâs book, The Long Haul Pioneers. Iâve just had a look and thereâs a 110 with a very close number listed but not the one in the picture. I would imagine it was one of the legion units painted in Astran livery but owned by subbies. You got so much per trip if you ran in their colours
Ro
Iâll pop it on the Astran thread, to see if anyone knows about it.
Incidentally, does anyone recognise the Crusader in the same pic?
John West:
Brother Andy has asked me to post these two photos, as he thinks John looks on here. The first is labelled:
âJohn Yorkston Paxton sawing wood to put between broken spring and chassis. Nis, Yugoslavia 03/03/84.âThe second is labelled:
âBroken spring with block in place. Nis, Yugoslavia 03/03/84.âIâm guessing from the date and knowing that Andy was in Dammam, heading home, on 20th of Feb that year, that this would be his next outbound journey, so that block of wood would have some work to do over the coming weeks!
Happy Days!
John Yorkstone Paxton.
Hello John West, I have been meaning to share this story for years on Trucknet just in case any of the other drivers who were there that day remember it. I donât suppose that John mentioned it to your Andy by any chance as I canât remember if this happened in the summer of 1983 or 84.
Lots of lads might remember those very complicated driving bans that they used to have in Czechoslovakia during the summer holidays. I.I.R.C. if you were driving east from Prague to Brno on the motorway on a Friday afternoon then T.I.R. lorries had to park up between 2 p.m. and 8 p.m. There were no problems if you were driving home from Brno to Prague. On a Sunday afternoon T.I.R. lorries were not allowed to drive from Brno to Prague between the hours of 2 p.m. and 8 p.m. and there was no problem if you were travelling from Prague to Brno. Sometimes we would chance it and quite often get away with the travelling ban knowing that if we did get stopped then the Czech police would fine us two hundred Czech Crowns which I.I.R.C. was about ten West German Deutsch Marks or it was just over two quid. Depending on how long you had been driving during the ban and the attitude of the policeman with a bit of a discussion this could often be agreed to the fine of one cassette or a packet of western cigarettes.
One Saturday night while I was on my way home I was coming out of Hungary and decided to use the Hungarian/ Czechoslovakian border at Riajka. When I arrived there at about 9 p.m. I was waved straight into the customs area before the soldier let the barrier down behind me. In the early eighties most of the borders in The Commie Block were not too bad. Sometimes you could be the only truck there or at other times it might take you up to three hours to get from one country into another. I seem to remember that Rajka could fit about ten trucks into the customs area which were exiting Hungary and at the same time it could process about ten trucks that would be leaving Czecho. The standard procedure used to be that you had to give your passport to the Hungarian soldiers who also did a cabin control. Then they would disappear and sometime later a Czech soldier would bring your passport back and do another cabin control. In the mean time you had to take all your paperwork into the office block and get your T.I.R. Carnet and your Hungarian Road Permit stamped at the Hungarian Vama (customs) and then walk across to the other side of the room to have your carnet and your Czech Road Permit stamped by the Czech customs officers. There were another three British drivers on their way home in the customs hall that night one of whom was John Yorkstone Paxton who came from somewhere I believe in East Anglia. One of the other drivers was an owner driver who I run with before, everybody called him Polish Joe and he lived somewhere in the London area. Joe used to have a yellow Volvo F12 and he was pulling a tilt. The other guy who I had never met before had a tilt which was loaded although I canât remember where he reloaded from but at the back of mind, I think that it might have been one of Pan Expressâs.
It was the first time that I had met John Yorkstone Paxton or was it Yorkston ? John was pulling an empty fridge and he told me that he was reloading I.I.R.C. in Halle in East Germany on the Monday morning. As the guards had done a shift change while we had been there and it was now coming up to midnight, we decided that after we had cleared the customs area that we all park up at the side of the road and get some sleep. We were all aware of the Czech summer driving ban so we all agreed to try and get to Prague before 2 p.m. the following day. The next morning, we all made an early start and by 2.10. p.m. we were less than five miles from the end of the motorway. Now I donât know if any of you can still remember but if you were coming out of Prague and you joined the start of the motorway there was a big cobbled layby which most T.I.R. drivers used to park up for the night. The layby had a small toilet block along with several wooden benches and a few wooden tables. There was also a small kiosk next to the toilet block that had a metal shutter and the kiosk would only open in the summer months. I am sure that Bestbooties mentioned many years ago on Trucknet that one cold snowy winters morning he helped the Czech police to pull a driver out of his cab who had died during the night frozen to death. Of course, very few U.K. lorries had night heaters back then. Over the years they built a small restaurant in that layby which stayed open until quite late in the summer months. On the other side of the motorway when you were heading west there was another layby just before the end of the motorway which was very handy for having a break before you attempted to get through Prague.
John was at the front of our convoy and I was at the rear when I could see the Czech policeman up ahead waving his little lollypop as he walked out into the middle of the road. The Czech policeman waved us all onto the hard shoulder as he was stood next to the slip lane into the last layby on the motorway. He had a word with John, I donât think that John was asked to pay a fine and after a couple of minutes we were all told to park in the layby and wait until 8 p.m. when the driving ban had ended. We were all really cheesed off to say the least, it was a case of so near yet so far. If we would have set off ten minutes earlier that morning, we could have been parking up somewhere in East Germany that night but now we were going to have to park up for six hours due to some silly driving ban. We parked up in the big cobbled layby and decided to have a look at the little kiosk that was open next to the toilet block. They didnât appear to be selling much just hot dogs, cheese rolls, salami rolls, tea, soft drinks and bottles of Pilzen beer. We decided that the best thing that we could do was to have a couple of beers, a few hours sleep and then push on to get through the Czech/ East German border at Zinnwald that night. I noticed that next to the kiosk there were several piles of sand that had recently been tipped, dozens of scaffolding poles, bricks and loads of wooden planks laying on the ground so I presumed that they were going to build a small shop/cafĂ© like they had done on the opposite side on the motorway. I must also add that the motorway was actually two lanes in each direction with a hard shoulder at the time.
We were sitting next to somebodyâs trailer box having a beer when we heard a loud knocking noise coming along the slip road into the layby. We looked across to see an East German mustard colour Trabant which was throwing out a huge cloud of blue smoke. The knocking noise was getting louder, then there was a terrific bang, everything then went very quiet as the car rolled slowly towards us and stopped. From where we were sat, we could smell the stench of burning oil as it poured out underneath the front of the car. A guy who looked to be in his forties got out and lifted up the bonnet cover, everybody who was sat in the layby having a picnic looked across to see what was happening. The guyâs wife got out of the passenger side, she looked into the engine compartment, looked at husband and then burst out crying very loudly. A few people walked over to see what was going on and to see if they could help but they all walked away shaking their heads. Polish Joe walked over to find out what had happened and struck up a conversation with the driver. Being nosey, the rest of us decided to walk across and have a look at the damage, it was well and truly, Kaput. I never realized at the time that The Trabant was fitted with a two-stroke engine and it looked like the piston was sticking out of the sump. We all returned back to the trailer box to finish our second beer except Polish Joe who carried on talking to the driver. Shortly after I decided to get my head down for a couple of hours as it was now about 3.p.m.
I woke up three hours later to find that Joe and the other driver were still sat around the trailer box talking to the women who had been the passenger in the Trabant but there was sign of her husband. John soon joined us and it turned out that the couple were from a place near Halle where John was reloading. John climbed into his cab and brought out a telex with his reloading instructions on it and the women said that she knew the place as it wasnât far from where they lived. It turned out that her husband had hitchhiked towards Prague to try and find a telephone box to hopefully get some help and he had already been gone for over two hours. At about 7 p.m. the East German guy returned and all was not well, he hadnât been able to get any help whatâs so ever. He had also made a call to a friend of his in Halle who had a small car carrying trailer but his friend was unable to drive all the way down to Prague to pick up the broken Trabby. Once again, the women burst into tears, the guy was very upset and we all felt very sorry them.
Polish Joe told us that the car wasnât their biggest problem because the couple had already explained to him that they had to be at work by 8 a.m. the following morning or else they would both be in serious trouble with their employers. They had been allowed to have a weekâs holiday but there would be repercussions if they were not back at their work place on time. John asked Joe to ask the couple that if it was possible and if we could put their car in the back of Johnâs fridge, would they know where there was a ramp in Halle to off load it. The guy said that his friend had a ramp at his garage and that wouldnât be a problem at all. John pointed over at all the building materials over by the kiosk and said âdo you think that we would be able to make a ramp out of that lotâ and we all agreed that we could try. John backed his trailer up to one of the mounds of sand and after about twenty minutes with the help of some wooden planks and a few bricks we managed to push the Trabant into the back of Johnâs fridge and secure it.
At 8 p.m. we were ready to set off with the East German guy and his wife riding in Johnâs cab which was a D.A.F. 2800. It would have been around 11.p.m. on Sunday night by the time that we reached the Czechoslovakian/ East German border at Zinnwald and as far as I can remember we were the only other vehicles there. The Czech customs men didnât seem too bothered when John explained why he was carrying a car in the back of a fridge but the East German customs guys went ballistic. Lots of questions were being asked, why was John carrying two East German citizens in his cab, where were they all going, how long had he known them. An East German soldier was sent into the back of the fridge with a torch and an Alsatian dog and after a few minutes he confirmed that the motor was indeed kaput. âBig problem misterâ said the customs man âyou canât transport the car in East Germany without the correct paper so you must offload the carâ. The only problem was that there didnât seem to be a ramp at the border post. Eventually we were all cleared and told to go, except John and the East German couple while the customs men were wondering what to do next, by this time the East German guy and his wife were looking very worried. John told us to push on as there was nothing that we could do and that he would probably see us in Dover. The other two drivers and myself set off towards Dresden and parked in the first big layby that we came to.
The next morning, we got up and as there was no sign of John we decided to crack on across East Germany but for the next few days I did wonder what had happened to him.
On my next trip, I think that I was parked up at The Windmill restaurant in Hungary and John Yorkstone Paxton walked in. I was glad to see him and I asked what had happened after we had left. He just said ânothing much really, the East German customs men were probably in a bad mood because we had disturbed their sleep. A customs man and a soldier got into a car and told me to follow them to an East German Army barracks that had a ramp, which was only a couple of kilometers away from the border post. We offloaded the car and the East German couple said that their friend with the car carrying trailer would collect it later that day.â John also told me that he had noticed us all parked in the layby but he didnât want to wake us up so he carried on up to Halle where he started loading at 6 a.m. that Monday morning. I think he said that he dropped the East German couple off at the railway station where they got into a taxi but they should have been in time for work at 8 a.m.
Not every trip was like that but itâs one of those trips that I shall always remember.
John Yorkstone Paxton.
The old border post at Raijka, Hungary.
earth.google.com/web/search/Raj ⊠TDZHMkEQAg
The start of the Czechoslovakian motorway just outside Prague December 1980.
The last layby on the motorway before Prague which has changed over the years.
earth.google.com/web/search/Raj ⊠WUpScHcQAg
Zinnwald, the East German/ Czechoslovakian border post date unknown.
I am not sure but I think that this may of been the old Czech border post at Cinovec/ Zinnwald.
Thats a great little story. Thanks Steve.
I used to stop here for a drink, a couple of miles down the hill from Cinovec, there were no buildings in the car park opposite back in the seventies just a slight slope up onto the road which I struggled to get out of one night with heavy snow.
Modern picture taken from Google maps.
Steve
Hi Mushroomman,
Andy doesnât go on trucknet, so Iâll copy and paste your story to him. Great stuff. Life was an adventure back then wasnât it!
Meanwhile here is another of his photos. This one is when he was driving the FFI transcon. Itâs headed 'Mr Aydin and son adjust the clutch on my transcon 16/05/83
Birdie4x4:
I used to stop here for a drink, a couple of miles down the hill from Cinovec, there were no buildings in the car park opposite back in the seventies just a slight slope up onto the road which I struggled to get out of one night with heavy snow.
Modern picture taken from Google maps.
Steve
Hi Birdie 4x4, I am really pleased that you posted that photo because about a year ago I was trying to do a bit of research on the Hotel Sport and nothing seemed to come up on Google. I also parked there on several occasions as it was a good dayâs drive from Hamburg when we used to use The Prinz Line Ferries from Harwich. I think that the boats were called The Prinz Oberon and The Princess Eugenie which were both West German boats.
The Hotel Sport has certainly cleaned up well so itâs no wonder that I could never find it on Google Earth. Itâs not how I remember it and I think that this photo would be more like how you remember it back in the seventies or the eighties.
You were dead right, up until 1987 there were no buildings across the road except for a bus stop and a bit of waste ground as there was nothing but miles and miles of forest, I think that forestry must have been the main industry in that area, it probably still is. From what I remember there were often a couple of Danish or Swedish drivers in there and there was never a problem paying your bill with West German Deutsch marks which they would always greatly accept.
As it was on the main road from Berlin to Prague I could very well imagine that during the war there may have been a couple of large â â â â flags flying outside that hotel. Thatâs one of the reasons why I was interested in the place, it certainly felt like it could have been commandeered by one of Hitlerâs Generals. With all the deerâs antlers and the boarâs heads mounted on the walls I always wondered if at one time it was a royal hunting lodge or something, who knows.
I want to show this photo again of my old mate Ken Singleton which was also taken in Czechoslovakia I.I.R.C. in the early eighties. The photo was taken by another Dow Freight driver called Dave Shawcross and thatâs Daveâs son Robert in the photo along with Micky Tremlow and Pam from Promotors. Ken must have been in his early sixties when that photo was taken and he really was what we used to call âone of the old schoolâ.
Whenever we used the border at Furth im Wald we would travel along the old roads through Domazlice, Strakonice, Pisek, Tabor and Jilhava. This route enabled you to by pass Prague and brought you out just before Bruno. We used to go this way especially on a Friday or a Sunday when the truck driving ban was in place on the motorway. The old road was very scenic and passed through many of what could only be described as what looked like medieval villages. In lots of places long stretches of the road were cobbled and you often saw teams of horses pulling logging carts. There were a couple of laybys somewhere in this area which had these old water pumps which still worked.
Now I am hoping that Trucknet member Dean B is reading this as I remember a Long Distance Diary from about the late 70âs or the early 80âs which featured one of Atkins from Derby or it could have been one of Berrisfordâs from Stoke who took a journalist with him on one trip and they used this route. If anyone has got a copy of it then I would love to read it again, after forty years I am sure that it will bring a few more memories for me.
Getting back to my mate Ken, I remember him taking me on my first trip to Yugoslavia in 1980 and we crossed the Iron Curtain at the West German, Waidhaus/ Rosvadov, Czech border post. We had parked up for a brew somewhere between Pilsen and Prague and I remember Ken telling me that Lidice was about four miles from where we were parked and that one day, he was going to go off route and have a look at the place. He started to tell me about Reinhard Heydrich, The Butcher of Prague and how Hitler, after Heydrichâs assassination, had given orders for the village of Lidice to be razed to the ground in reprisals and that most of the villagers were slaughtered.
Now at the time I must admit that through my ignorance I wasnât really interested in what Ken was telling me. I knew that during the war that Ken had been in The Parachute Regiment and that his brigade had been dropped at Arnhem. He also mentioned that he and some of his mates had managed to meet up with some Americans but this story about Lidice didnât mean anything to me and so I thought nothing more about it, until some 35 years later.
About six years ago I was watching a programme on The History Channel one night about the second world war when they mentioned the name Lidice and straight away it rang a very old rusty bell. When they also mentioned about The Butcher of Prague I thought about what Ken was trying to tell me all those years ago and with the help of Google I started to do some research. I thought that it was quite an interesting subject so I thought that I would share it with you just in case anybody else finds it interesting.
Lidice.
youtube.com/watch?v=j-V-wUkgeQw
Seven men At Daybreak.
youtube.com/watch?v=tmfVUmGENAw
Lidice - A Light Across The Sea - YouTube
youtube.com/watch?v=7E_Jd2c61E8
In 1986 or 87 I was on my way home transiting Czechoslovakia on a Sunday afternoon somewhere near the Pilsen area when a small Skoda going like the clappers over took me. We were on a long stretch of road going through the forest and I noticed that in the front passengerâs seat there was a woman who started waving something out of the window at me. I thought that it was a stick and thinking that she was going to throw it at the truck I decided to slow right down. I could see a young child stood up in the back of the car and I thought that it seemed a bit odd. The car also slowed down, he then put his right hand indicator on and pulled into a layby that was a bit further up the road. The women was by now leaning out of the window and pointing towards the layby which was partially hidden from the road by a row of trees. I didnât think that they posed a security concern so I followed them into the layby but just to be on the safe side I locked the driverâs door from the inside and wound down the window. The women who I thought would have been in her early thirties got out of the car and walked towards me holding what now appeared to be a sword.
The man and the child got out of the car holding hands and walked towards the road. They appeared to be on the lookout for something, probably the police. The women took the sword out of the black metal scabbard and handed it up to me. I switched the engine off and opened the driverâs door as I took a closer look at what looked like a military sword. Verkaufen, ein hundred West Marks said the women, I thought one hundred Deutsch Marks, that would be about ÂŁ 27. The two things that stood out to me the most were the two red eyes on the brass lion head handle which I thought were Rubies. The other thing that I noticed was the â â â â insignia with the eagle.
I asked the women was it original, she looked at me a bit puzzled and then said Ja, Ja es ist origanal. I decided to take a chance, there looked like there was too much craftsmanship in the sword for somebody to be turning them out in his garage. The man and the child came walking over towards the truck, I gave the girl a 100 hundred Deutsch mark note which she handed to the man. The man lifted it up towards the sky checking to see if the note wasnât counterfeit, he smiled, came towards me and shook my hand. Danka, he said and the three of them hurried back over to their car and quickly drove off.
I had a much better look at the sword, another thing that I noticed was the unmistakable smell of gun oil in the felt lined scabbard. Once again, I thought that if it was a reproduction then somebody might have used engine oil. It then occurred to me how was I going to get the sword out of Czecho, the border guards at Rosvadov always did a cabin control so I couldnât tell them that I had just bought it. I did have a M.A.N. issue hanging wardrobe hung up behind the passenger seat and at the time I used to wear a brown Volvo three quarter length jacket so I decided to stand the sword up behind the jacket in the wardrobe.
At the Czech side of the border, it was a young squaddie who eventually did my cabin control and I had learnt that a good way to distract them was to leave my cassette case, which held about twelve cassettes, out on the bed where it could easily be seen. The soldier noticed it and decided to check every cassette which was in the box which was nothing unusual. I had a feeling of what was coming next, he came across one where he exclaimed âAh, Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moonâ. He looked at me and said âfor me, English souvenirâ. I nodded disapprovingly as I said O.K. âCabin control finishedâ he said as he tucked the cassette inside his shirt and quickly disappeared out of the cab. He waved to his comrade who was carrying an A.K.47 and was stood next to the barrier. He waved towards the watch tower and the barrier automatically lifted. I breathed a sigh of relief as I went down the hill, crossed over the small river and then drove up the hill to the West German border post at Waidhaus which was about a kilometre away.
Waidhaus was never a busy border, there was never a queue and the police and the customs men were usually quite lax. It was only if you had reloaded in Turkey that they made you wait for the drugs dog to arrive if he already gone home. I went into the customs post to do my paperwork and was reminded that I would not be able to drive until 10 p.m. when the Sunday driving ban had finished. I knew this and I had already planned to put a new tacho card in which would show that I had parked up and had my eight hour break so that I could do a night hit across West Germany. The customs man wasnât interested in doing a cabin search, he seemed more interested in watching the programme on German television.
I walked back over to my truck, closed the curtains and then took the sword out of the hang up wardrobe to have a really good look at it. I was feeling really excited now as I slowly pulled the sword out of the scabbard and once again, I got a slight whiff of gun oil. I thought to myself, could they really be Rubies in the lionâs eyes and there was something else that I hadnât noticed before. Engraved at the top of the blade near the handle were the words Waffen S.S. and as I looked at the blade there was something else that gave me a strange feeling. About a third of the way up on the edge of the shining steel blade there was something like a seven inch scuff mark which looked like somebody had tried to polish out but had failed to completely get rid of it. It looked like somebody had taken a swipe at a tree trunk and it had left the impression on the blade but it didnât make any sense to me why somebody would use a ceremonial sword on a tree. It then occurred to me that maybe the sword had been used for something much more sinister or macabre and I just felt that I had to put it away.
Just after ten p.m. that night I set off across West Germany and headed for the West German/ Dutch border at Aachen Nord where I arrived the following day. I always enjoyed going through that border on the way home as they had a Les Routiers there and it was always my ritual to have a feed of Frikadellen, Frites and a small draught Heineken. I could have a forty five minute break showing on my tacho card and I knew that I could be in Zeebrugge or Rotterdam in one hit.
Occasionally, the German B.A.G. a.k.a. The Bundes Autobahn Gestapo would be on the German side checking your tacho to see if you had been speeding or asking to see your German road permit and it was only on very rare occasions that you would ever see a Dutch customs man standing there. But not that day, there were two Dutchman stood there and one of them, a youngish fellow looked like a trainee. The oldish guy flagged me down as I approached them so I stopped and switched the engine off. The younger guy walked around to the passenger side which made his college laugh as my truck was right hand drive. The older guy stood by my driverâs door and said âgood afternoon Englishman have you anything to declare todayâ. I did think about saying no but then I thought if he was training the younger guy that if he wanted to do a cab search then I might have some explaining to do as he would surely find the sword.
I felt that I had to say yes and when I said a sword, he looked at me quite surprised and said can you show it to me. He walked around to the passenger side and I opened the door to let him in while his friend stood on the passenger side step. I reached over, got the sword out of the hang up and gave it to him. He studied it very carefully and he asked me where I had got it from and as I explained the story to him, I asked him if he thought that it was a genuine. Yes, he said I think that itâs an original one but there might be a problem, I shall have to go and speak to our Antiques expert, can I have your passport please. And with that the two customs men walked over to the office block with the sword and my passport.
It seemed a very long fifteen minutes before they came out and walked over towards my truck and I got out of my cab to meet them. The next thing I knew was this Dutch customs man doing the worst Zorro impression that I have ever seen, madly waving the sword about and shouting âon guard Englesmanâ. I had to laugh, didnât we all love The Cloggies for their great sense of humour. He gave me back my passport and asked which port I was going to and when I told him Zeebrugge he said âlook, wrap it up in a towel or a blanket, hide it away and donât take it out to show anybody until you get to Englandâ. I asked him how much the sword was worth and he said that his colleague had said that if I had paid 100 Deutsch Marks for it then I had got myself a bargain. I thanked him for his help and drove off through the car park. I think that it was the very few times that I didnât go into the Les Routiers restaurant that day. Instead, I drove into the first layby in Belgium and had brew and a tacho brake. When I arrived in Dover, I just happened to forget all about the sword and as nobody offered to do a cab check I didnât mention it to the U.K. customs.
A couple of months later, I was home for a long week end and my brother phoned me up and told me that there was a Military Antiques fair on in Oldham on the Sunday morning and asked me if I wanted to go and value the sword. So off we went with the sword which was wrapped up in a towel and we eventually found a stall which looked a bit more professional than some of the other stall holders. He looked at it very carefully and asked how much I had paid for it but without thinking I said ÂŁ27. I could tell by the look on my brothers face that I shouldnât have said that. Straight away the stall holder said âI will take it off your hands for thirty quidâ. I said no thanks and we were about to walk away when he said, âO.K. forty then and thatâs my last offerâ. We decided not to take his offer and we walked away with a smile on our faces, we both felt that it could have been worth more than that.
Well, I had that sword up until 1998 and over the years it had spent a couple of years over the fire place where it didnât really fit in. It then ended up on top of the bedroom wardrobe until we decided to move to Australia. We had to make a manifest of everything that we were bringing and all garden tools had to be steam cleaned, spotless and free from any soil. It was much easier to give everything that we werenât going to bring to give it all away to our friends. We thought that we might have a problem declaring the sword so my wife decided to take it to an auction house. They said that they would keep it for a couple of weeks and then put it into the auction. We got a phone call a couple of weeks later and they said that they had sold the sword for ÂŁ80.
I recently looked on Google to see if there was one like it and this came up.
This was exactly the same sword that I had and they are now going for over ÂŁ700.
And I never did find out if the lions red eyes were Rubies or if they were Garnets.
Enjoy your Bank Holiday.
Regards Steve.
I normally lose interest after a few lines of long posts but that was a cracking read.
Very very interesting post there Steve. You certainly know how to tell em.