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Near where we lived in Withernsea there was a Prisoner of War Camp. When I was 13 I remember a cold winter. The German prisoners were brought out to cut the snow. We children were ignored by the guards and chatted to the prisoners without them bothering. One was quite an artist and he cut a figure of a woman in the snow it was very beautiful. Looking back he must have been very talented. We'd been told "the only good German is a dead German" but as children we found it different to that.

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