Victory in Europe: veterans recall surrender

Confusion and tears among Germans on Lüneburg Heath

The surrender began with a mix-up between military delegations. One German commander cried when told how far the Russians had advanced. As the document was signed, a spontaneous cheer erupted from the woods around Field Marshal Montgomery's tent.

Derek Knee - now 82 but then a staff captain at the headquarters of the British Second Army - was acting as a translator for the ceremony on Lüneburg Heath, in north-west Germany, which marked the end of the second world war in Europe.

Yesterday, he and scores of veterans who took part in the final phase of the conflict were reunited at the Imperial War Museum in south London to celebrate and remember this week's 60th anniversary of Victory in Europe.

"The day started in complete confusion," he recalled, "We expected a group from German army headquarters but when they arrived there were others who wanted to surrender Hamburg. They had to be separated out.

"It was very gloomy. Some Germans were completely ignorant of the battle situation. One burst into tears when shown how far the Russians had reached. I wouldn't have been surprised if somebody committed suicide over lunch. But they just drank the wine which Monty provided."

At the end of the first day's negotiations - May 3 1945 - Captain Knee drove back to the outskirts of Hamburg with the German commanders who had returned to seek authorisation for an unconditional surrender from Admiral Dönitz, the titular head of the disintegrating Nazi regime after Hitler's death.

"The next day, people were very reserved," said Capt Knee. "We were standing up most of the time, Monty liked to have people standing up. The war correspondents had moved heaven and earth to get there."

At 6.30pm Admiral von Friedeburg initialled the paper. Outside the tent Sergeant Bert Williams, now 83 but at the time a mechanic with headquarters staff, was waiting with colleagues.

Yesterday he described that moment. "Most of us were sent away into the trees around the camp. One of the guys asked an officer friend to scratch the back of his head when the surrender was signed to let us know. So there was a big cheer but Monty never found out how it happened."

Others present yesterday were elsewhere on the frontline. Able Seaman Eddie Slater, now 81, was offshore when Victory in Europe Day was officially declared by Winston Churchill on May 8 1945. "I was at sea but we came into Hamburg afterwards to take one of Hitler's yachts, the Griselle, back to West Hartlepool," he said. "Everything that could be screwed off that boat, we unscrewed as a souvenir. I still have a few spoons with swastikas on the handle.

"My eldest sister's toilet has a beautiful enamel doorknob from Hitler's yacht. And we celebrated by letting off the ship's emergency rockets. I was very sorry to see the end. I didn't want to go back to a mediocre job. We were young. It was too exciting."

Christopher Seton-Watson, then a 27-year-old major with the Royal Artillery and later an Oxford don, was in Italy, south of Bologna. "We had a feast and built a huge bonfire when the news came through," he said yesterday. "We put pictures of Hitler and Mussolini on top, soaked it with petrol and I fired a Verey pistol at it.

"It was an enormous relief that the war was over but it was also an anticlimax. We'd like to have chased the Germans back up to Trieste. I had been in the army for six years and I thought, 'What am I going to do now?'"

Colonel Wally Pryke was in Burma when news came that the war in Europe was over. "We thought that's very good but we still have to beat the Japanese," he said yesterday.

"We were the forgotten army in Burma. We were on half rations. We couldn't celebrate. We were being supplied by Dakotas and they promised to drop us some liquor on a red parachute. But it never arrived."