IN September 1944, a Scottish soldier and an American GI stood on the grounds of a prisoner-of-war camp, shook hands and said farewell, with a promise to keep in touch and reunite when the war ended.
Daniel McAuley and Donald Fetter would never meet again, but 78 years later, in an Italian café on a Glasgow street, their children met to share stories and swap photos of their POW dads.
“A few photos from Stalag 18 made it home with my dad, and on the back of one of them, a group picture of some prisoners, was the name Daniel McAuley, and the location, Bridge Lodge, Balmoral,” explains Kent Fetter, son of the American soldier, who got in touch with Times Past to share the moving story.
“Through the internet, I was able to contact Daniel's sister and nieces, but it wasn’t until 2013 that I was contacted by his daughter, Lorri McAuley, of Paisley, in Scotland.”
He adds: “Since then we have corresponded through Facebook, and last month, Lorri agreed to meet me while I was on a trip to Scotland, for the reunion our fathers were never able to have.”
Daniel McAuley was a member of the renowned British Seaforth Highlanders. He was captured in 1943, in Sicily, and taken to Stalag 18. He tried to escape twice, but would remain a POW until 1945, when the prisoners were marched westwards 47 miles to a sub-camp as the advancing Allies approached.
Donald Fetter, of Norwood, New York State, was a soldier in the US 34th Infantry Division. Wounded and captured in Italy, 10 miles from Monte Cassino, he was sent to Stalag 18 via a prisoner exchange through the Red Cross.
“During the time of his capture and imprisonment, my father experienced mercy, horror and kindness,” says Kent.
“After being wounded in the arm and back, mercy was shown to him by a wounded German sergeant who arranged for both of them to receive medical treatment.
“Gangrene and the amputation of his right arm just weeks before his 19th birthday would haunt him all of his life, but the terror was countered by the kindness he was shown by his fellow POW inmates.”
One of the few Americans in Stalag 18, Donald was assigned to the Scottish section of the camp, and there he met Daniel McAuley.
“It was soldiers like Daniel who helped to alleviate his suffering,” says Kent.
“They gave him special care, helped him to walk after the loss of his equilibrium, brought him meals, cleaned his wounds, and lifted his spirits with their humour.
“In just one year he felt he had lived a lifetime, he considered himself lucky, and those people who treated him well would forever be near and dear to his heart.”
Daniel and Donald kept in touch when the war was over, but the hoped-for reunion never came about.
“As with many promises made in life, time slips by, personal events get in the way, and age wears down opportunities for such reunions to take place,” says Kent. “Danny McAuley passed away in 1978, my father in 1999.
“When Lorri and I met, I brought with me a letter my grandmother wrote to Daniel dated April 1945, but it was stamped ‘return to sender’, so he never got it.
“Lorri brought with her a letter she discovered from my father to Daniel dated 1947 - a letter that my family had never seen.”
In Glasgow, Kent and Lorri met for coffee at Fratelli Sarti.
“We talked about our fathers and how they carried with them the scars of war, both the obvious and the hidden,” adds Kent. “We shared other similar memories of growing up with a POW father. We spoke of our families, and interests we have in common.”
He smiles: “Surprisingly, we are both retired teachers, both of us studied geography in college, we both like the same musical groups from the 60s to the 80s, we have similar political views, both of us were educated in Catholic schools, and amazingly we both share the same birthday.”
Kent adds: “A major world war, so many years ago, with minor characters crossing paths, had a ripple effect that brought Lorri and I together, and we both walked away feeling a unique bond. That bond started long ago when the circumstances of war brought men from different backgrounds together to endure extreme hardship.
“On a Glasgow street, the daughter of the Scottish soldier and the son of the American GI embraced, bid each other farewell and promised to keep in touch, vowing to someday reunite. Hopefully, it won’t take another 78 years…”
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