Local Family Recalls Dad's Time as POW

This Friday, September 20th is POW/MIA/KIA (Prisoner of War/Missing in Action/Killed in Action) Recognition Day, a day set aside each year on the third Friday in September to remember those that gave their life in the line of service, or in this case, was a Prisoner of War, and lived.

Memories of time spent in the military aren't always ones that people (the veteran) want to share with others. This is true especially if the experience was negative and the last thing they want to do is relive that memory and time all over again. Some things are just better tucked away in a foot locker, slid under a bed...and forgotten.

It is probably safe to say that a majority of those who were active in the military, the ones who faced life and death, those that were beside a comrade as they took their last breath and those who were praying they would return home to their families...that they would rather forget the darkness, dreariness, the devastation and death. Far, far, too many still fight the demons daily, as evidenced by the rate of 22 veterans a day who choose suicide to end their pain and nightmares.

Then there are those that face another avenue and that road is not only one less traveled, it is one that no one wants to venture down, but by fate and circumstances they do. This is a combined blend of research and information gathered from the family.

One of those that ended up on the path less traveled was Hubert Drabbels. Hubert was born on August 9, 1922, lived in Malta and graduated from Malta High School. He attended college in Havre, Montana, and St. Bonaventure University in New York.

In 1941 he entered the Army Air Force (AAF) and began his military career. The AAF was an emerging entity, growing from 20,824 enlisted to1,900,805 by 1945. By 1944, the AAF had nearly 80,000 aircraft and over 2.4 million men and women in service.

One might say Drabbels was "on top of the world" as his view was often at 20,000 feet in the air.

Compliments of the United States government, he had tickets and flights to places around the world that some have yet and perhaps, never will see. While a lot of other young men his age were pumping gas at the local stations, working the family farm or one of those that trying to avoid being located and drafted.

His training included the aerial gunner 611, which was for a hand-held or turret mounted machine gun for protection from enemy attack. He received qualification in Pistol SS (Schutzstaffel) marksmanship, Pistol MKM, and Carbine M1SS, and received his Air Force Air Crew member badge with wings.

Drabbel's stint in the Army Air Force was just over three years and ... well, let's just say, things took a turn and went south.

While in the Air Force, Drabbels was trained to be and served as a tail gunner. His means of transportation was a B17 or B24.

Drabbels' son, Don Drabbles, of Malta, said his dad was one of those that didn't share a lot of information or talk about their service time. With what some of them endured, it is understandable.

The duty of an aerial tail gunner was not a pleasant one. One had to remember...this is WAR...or mentally they might have done themselves in. It was against all the things a young christian kid had been taught when they were placed in a situation of being, basically, a sniper or assassin. Aircrew faced many dangers, including anti-aircraft fire, fighters, lack of oxygen, frostbite, and lower pressures at high altitude.

While B-17 crews had a 30% mortality rate, the ball turret gunners had a 60% mortality rate, although because of the peculiar armory in the turret itself, they had the lowest wound rate on the plane. The average age of a bomber crew was just 25 years old, and they were expected to fly over a target 25 times before they could go home. Drabbels was a mere 18 years old, and aging rapidly in his line of work. In World War II, some of the most dangerous combat missions were flown by B-17 flying fortress bombers.

His discharge records show battles and campaigns including N. France WDGO 33 1945, Rhineland WDGO II 1945, and Central Europe WDGO I in 1945.

The family provided Phillips County News archives which stated: 75 years ago, December 28, 1944: Sgt. Hubert Drabbels, rear-gunner on a B-17 bomber based in England, has been missing since November 30, according to word received by his parents, Mr. and Mrs. M. H. Drabbels of Malta. Sgt. Drabbels, who is with the 8th Army Air Force, was of a mission over Germany. He is a graduate of Malta High School Class of 1940.

In a later edition: February 15, 1945: Hubert Drabbles, son of Mr. and Mrs. M. H. Drabbels of Malta, is a prisoner of war in Germany, according to information received from the war department Monday. Sgt. Drabbels had been missing over Germany since Nov. 30.

Then it was printed: Sgt. Hubert Drabbels, who was reported missing in action over Germany last November 30th, and who has been a prisoner since that time until May 2nd, arrived home last Thursday morning to spend a 30-day furlough.

Following termination of his furlough, he will spend two weeks at a Santa Monica rest camp before reporting for reassignment.

Sgt. Drabbels left LeHavre on May 30th, making the trip on a Liberty ship which carried 300 liberated prisoners. He has been awarded the Air Medal with two oak leaf clusters, the Purple Heart, and three battle stars, one for each of the three major campaigns in which he took part. He has been in the service for two years and two months.

Throughout the years, Drabbels had shared with his family of being attacked and the crew all had to parachute out of the plane and take their chances on surviving the fall and what awaited them. What awaited them was the enemy in full force.

Don stated, "Dad told us they landed in Germany and each of them were surrounded immediately with five rifles pointed at them. They had been shot at from the time they pulled the parachute cord...shots firing at them as they came closer to landing. I remember dad said he had some broken bones from it."

They were then taken to a POW camp and his accommodations ended up being six months there in captivity.

"Dad said he weighed 140 pounds the day he was captured. When he was released he weighed a mere 98 pounds. Their diet consisted of a potato water soup, sometimes with cabbage in it, and occasionally some bread."

Drabbels added, "Dad also said the biggest health risk was dysentery due to poor diet and lack of medical care." The risk factors of poor sanitation, malnutrition, exhaustion, and crowding contributed to nearly 89% of the soldiers having it. It could lead to death caused by dehydration and poisoning by bacterial toxins. "Dad said they would be lined up to use the bathrooms and would just fall out of line." There was no way of stopping the diarrhea...it could consume you or kill you.

Drabbels added, "Dad also said the biggest health risk was dysentery due to poor diet and lack of medical care." The risk factors of poor sanitation, malnutrition, exhaustion, and crowding contributed to nearly 89% of the the soldiers having it. It could lead to death caused by dehydration and poisoning by bacterial toxins. "Dad said they would be lined up to use the bathrooms and would just fall out of line." There was no way of stopping the diarrhea...it could consume you or kill you.

Some research indicated the Red Cross managed to get letter from home to the soldiers in these camps, Drabbels did not mention any communication from home.

World War II casualty statistics vary, with estimates of total deaths ranging from 50 million to more than 80 million. This is the estimated number of combined military and civilian deaths brought about between 1939 and 1945. Those numbers are staggering. Before World War II the world population was about 2.3 billion. During World War II, over 60 million people were killed, which was about 3% of the ENTIRE world population in 1940.

The family wasn't certain of the type of bomber Drabbels was assigned to and was serving on at the time of his being declared MIA until the military released the information. An interesting note on the B-24 Liberator is that it was a four-engine, long-range bomber that carried a crew of six to eight men. It was nicknamed the "Flying Coffin" because it had a single entry point near the rear of the aircraft, making it difficult for the crew to leave in an emergency. They were glad he was, at least, on a B17.

Don and his sister, Karen Bichler, recall their dad mentioning the "Death March."

The enemies claimed they were not barbarians. Anyone who walked the Death March would tell you otherwise.

Today the route taken looks like a roadway you see many places in the world. Trucks and cars share the pavement with motorized transportation of the public. This same path now passes McDonald's and other restaurants, car dealerships, and there is housing construction being developed. There are farm fields that lay adjacent to the route; it will have a whole new perspective years later.

Dusty roads were the pathways for the Death March. The prisoners were beat. They were beaten with anything the enemy had access to. The torture went on all day. They were not allowed water and they weren't fed. They were the target from the butt end of rifles, were subjected to blows and cuts by sabers.

The days were long. The days were grueling. All the men were treated inhumanly. Winter was a killer when the winds and cold weather hit in late November and into December, January and February.

It was between 65-70 miles and they walked four abreast. If they couldn't keep up, they were shot. If they stumbled and fell, they were shot.

At the last stage of the March, about 30 miles, they were jammed into box cars, consisting of wood sides, metal roofs, and a small slip for ventilation. Boxcars became human ovens, with over 100 POW's crammed into a boxcar of about 240 square feet. There is now a single boxcar on display on the road that was the Death March, a memorial to the victims.

POW's compared it to being herded like cattle getting ready for slaughter. They were all struggling to get a foothold and stand upright. The bottoms of the cars were a sea of filth from dysentery victims. The stench of sweat combined with urine and defecation made for a horrid breath; the quality of life that most of the POW's knew was absent.

Maybe pumping gas might have been boring, with no future and low pay...but, right now, it didn't sound so bad.

At some point, some of the POW's were taken to a concentration camp. Most of them would die there. Their family would never know the hell they had been put through. Most wouldn't want their loved ones to know.

At the Capas Concentration Camp, more than 31,000 trees have been planted, one for each of the POW's. The memorial covers 133 acres honoring each of the fallen during the Death March.

Fortunately, Drabbels was not one of them. In a raid, Russians launched an effort to save the POW's and were successful. There was probably no doubt the survivors were going to heaven...they had already lived through hell. One might compare it to Snoopy vs. the Red Baron...there was hope for so many that had given up on living to see another day. Drabbels was discharged October 30, 1945. He returned home and went back to work on the farm with his dad.

Throughout his career serving his country he was awarded a good conduct medal, EAME theatre ribbon with three bronze stars and a service stripe, an overseas bar, an Air medal with a bronze cluster, Purple Heart letter and a Prisoner of War medal.

His life really began when he and the life-long love in his heart and he were married on the next Groundhog's Day, February 2, 1946. He and Clara Klotz were married and had three children, Karen, Don and Cheryl.

Drabbels was a candidate for the state senate, active in civic organizations and served as a Phillips County Commissioner from 1958 to 1964.

Life was not always kind or easy to deal with. He was plagued with heart problems, spending 30 days in the hospital at one time, and was unable to even feel his fingertips.

Hubert was set free of pain and memories upon his death on April 30, 1964, at the age of 61.

If you know someone who has served in the trenches that were dark and they won't want to talk about it, respect that.

If they do want to talk, listen. Let them unload from their heart and mind. It may be one way of finding peace, a peace that they left in a far away foreign land.

Should they decide to share, be patient and write it down. What they lived through or endured is history. With the death of a veteran, a chapter of history is lost. Some things die with a generation, too.

As the saying goes, all gave some, some gave all. Sometimes the giving is giving you the future you have.

Thank you, to the POW/MIA/KIA, all of you.