The lead up to Remembrance Day always tugs at my heart. Of course, there are many reasons: Tv footage, stories in the newspaper, etc. They’re all very moving. But the one that resonates with me is about my own family-my father, John Stermscheg.

You see, my father also fought during the Second World War, his unit pitted against powerful German invaders. Yet he didn’t enlist as a Canadian, because he wasn’t born in Canada, but in Eastern Europe. Borders changed all the time in Europe, depending on which country had won the latest skirmish. Even though he was born in Austria, he was now (1939) living in Yugoslavia, and that made him fair game. Barely nineteen years old, he was conscripted into the Yugoslav army, took the requisite training, and participated in military exercises, even trained to become a pilot.

But then the storm clouds of war loomed over Europe and everything changed. The Yugoslav military brass cancelled a number of programs in order to prepare for an imminent war with Nazi Germany. My father, along with many hopefuls, was abruptly pulled from the aviation program and assigned to the army. Within a year, Hitler’s Germany declared war on the Allies, and Yugoslavia, though a small and independent country, was swept up with the rest.

In the spring of 1941, my father’s battalion was sent to stop the advancing armies of the Blitzkrieg. Preposterous. The Germans had armor-platted tanks and modern aircraft, while the Slovenian army pulled guns mounted on horse-drawn wagons and flew out-dated airplanes. His entire battalion was abruptly stopped on the outskirts of Belgrade, the capital. Faced with a formidable and superior foe, the commander had little choice but surrender. Not a single shot was fired and all were taken prisoner.

My father was not only confined in a German Stammlager, but he was forced to assume a new identity: POW #74324 . Camp Neubrandenburg, in northern Germany, housed Yugoslav, French, English and American prisoners. Caucasian, blue eyed, blond, and fluent in German, he stood out like a sore thumb. It took him some time to convince his fellow barrack mates that he wasn’t a spy.

He was eventually released and sent back to his home town, so that as a man of German/Austrian descent, he could be useful to the German war machine. Fortunately, he was never conscripted to fight along-side the German army, though many “repatriated” Yugoslav soldiers were forced to don a German uniform.

After the war, he sought a better life and eventually immigrated to Canada with his family. Many years later, he recounted his story, which was penned under the title: POW #74324. Here’s the blurb from the back cover.

Real heroes aren’t born. Rather, they are ordinary people who have risen to meet seemingly insurmountable challenges in the face of adversity. What really defines a person is the way they face those obstacles and overcome them. We don’t have to look to Hollywood to find examples; in fact, we need look no further than our backyards. My backyard, that is. My father, my dad, John Stermscheg, is such a man.
From humble beginnings to confinement in a German POW camp, he endured incredible hardship. But with his first taste of freedom, he was once again placed at the mercy of self-serving and corrupt men in communist post-war Yugoslavia. As you turn these pages, laugh, shake your head, or perhaps even shed a tear as you step into his world and catch a glimpse of a man who never gives up.
This is a true story. It wasn’t sugar-coated or embellished for a good read. Through the harrowing escapes and close calls of my own family history, it is my hope that people everywhere can look inside themselves to find the courage to become men and women of character, like my father, POW #74324.

Sadly, my father has passed away. However, the story need not end there. After all, I have his testament, his testimony, all there laid out on paper, compiled in a book that we co-wrote. So, whether it’s on his birthday, a special occasion, or on Remembrance Day, I can reminisce about him, the role model he was to me and the legacy he left behind for all to see.