When Frank Murphy, Charlie Cruikshank,
and Gus Gaspar arrived at Sagan, in late October 1943, they
were put into the South Compound at Stalag Luft III, which had only
been in use about three months. The Germans had collected a lot of
POWs very quickly at that time as a result of the big raids on
Bremen, Marienburg, Munster, and Schweinfurt. Not long after the
trio arrived at Sagan, the Germans - at the prisoner’s urging –
agreed to the transfer to the Center Compound of a limited number of
South Compound prisoners who wished to go to be with friends. A
similar number of prisoners then in the Center Compound would be
permitted to move over to the South Compound for the same reason.
All three men signed up to go to the Center Compound because many of
their friends were there.
Before all move details could be worked out, however, Murphy
responded to a general query as to whether there were any musicians
in the newly arrived prisoner group. The South Compound also had a
14-piece big band with a full set of instruments supplied by the Red
Cross.
The band was directed by a Major Hal Diamond who
was a bit older than most of the men. He was a G2 officer who had
somehow managed to be captured. Before the war, he was a very
successful, professional musician who had played reeds with Paul
Whiteman, Richard Himber and in various Hollywood studio
orchestras. He was playing lead alto saxophone with the camp band.
"I auditioned," Murphy remembers, "and was invited to play tenor sax
and clarinet in the band."
When Murphy joined the band, they had a show coming up just
before Christmas, 1943, in the new compound theatre then being build
by prisoners. Suddenly, and in typical military fashion, the Germans
scheduled the move of those prisoners, including Murphy, who had
asked to be transferred to the Center Compound. The move was to take
place before the Christmas Show!
"Because I had rehearsed with the band and no replacement was
really available, there was some consternation about my move and I
was asked to deter the move until after the band show and move next
time. I agreed and did not move with Crankshaft and Gus." The
Germans never again permitted any compound switching; there was no
"next time".
Shortly thereafter Murphy was moved into one of the three-man
rooms in Block 139 of the South Compound. "I had two great
roommates, both very fine 100th BG pilots: Hal "Pinky"
Helstrom, and Dick Carey, who miraculously survived a
terrifying forced ditching in the North Sea following our attack on
Hamburg on 25 July 43."
Early in 1944, Major Diamond decided to give up playing with the
band to concentrate on conducting, so Murphy moved to the lead alto
chair. "Most of the players were like me, but we had a few who had
touched the big time." The band’s lead trumpet player, Lt.
Dick Jones, was from Chicago and had played with Isham Jones.
The band also boasted of one excellent trombone player and a good
piano man, both of whom had time with lesser-known name bands.
The had a number of stock arrangements sent in by the Red Cross,
but most of the charts played were written for the band by a B-17
pilot from Los Angeles who was a good accordionist, but also very
adequate on tenor sax. He spent most of his time in the sax section.
Dick Jones was also considered a very good writer.
About the same time Murphy arrived at Sagan, a bombardier from
the First Air Division also landed in the South Compound. He was
Lt. Bill Runner from New Jersey who played the trumpet
and had done a stint with the Woody Herman band in New York.
"He was a gifted musician and a natural showman," Murphy declared,
"The band quickly grabbed him." Originally, Woody would come out of
the trumpet section, go down in front of the band and sing and play
his horn in sort of a Louis Armstrong style. Inevitably, he was put
in front of the band full time. When the band was not playing, he
spent many nights in Murphy’s room with his trumpet. "I would then
take my clarinet and our band guitarist would go along to the
various blocks where the guitarist and I would back up Bill while he
did his thing."
After the war, Bill Runner stayed in the Army Air Force and went
in for pilots training. Less than a year later he was killed in a
flying training accident. "I will always remember Bill as a really
talented entertainer and marvelous friend who did so much to bring a
little happiness to an otherwise pretty dreary prison camp. I once
commented to Pinky that I didn’t know how we sounded out front, but
when I was on the bandstand, I was a million miles from Sagan."
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