Here is a heart-warming story:
How a Patek Philippe watch gave hope to an American PoW in the notorious Stalag Luft III
BY HENRY CASEY AND LOUISE WOEHRLE
NOVEMBER 02, 2013 07:00
Lt Charles Woehrle (second from right)
Lt Charles Woehrle
Charles Woehrle's Ref. 1461 Patek Philippe
“I think it’s hard for the average person to appreciate what it meant to us,” says Charles Woehrle, 97, from his home in St Paul, Minnesota. The “it” is his first Patek Philippe, a reference 1461 stainless-steel wristwatch, which arrived for him in a package at Stalag Luft III during the Second World War.
A lieutenant in the US Eighth Air Force, Woehrle was a prisoner of war at the officers’ camp that inspired the classic war film The Great Escape. He was captured after being shot down on his sixth mission as a bombardier on May 29, 1943. The US crew was attacking a German submarine pen at the time.
“As we dropped the bombs,” explains Woehrle, “I followed them in my sights. They went down like a school of fish. When I looked up I saw a lot of flak. The Germans had us. We were hit, losing four of our crew. It was a sad, sad day.” Woehrle parachuted from the aircraft but was captured shortly afterwards by the Germans and taken to Stalag Luft III.
In the 1963 film, starring Steve McQueen and Richard Attenborough, a group of PoWs tunnel their way to freedom. The painstaking work was done with handmade tools, as well as some which were “lifted” from local workmen.
Three tunnels were excavated, necessitating the displacement of a large quantity of earth. “We put it in the walls of our barracks and between the seats in the theatre, where prisoners put on performances,” continues Woehrle. “That theatre would not have been made if it wasn’t for the tunnelling.”
Woehrle himself was not among the men who tried to escape from the camp, many of whom were recaptured and shot. “It was,” as Woehrle describes it, “a dark time for all of us.”
Nearly a year after he was captured, in March 1944, Woehrle came across some promotional literature that had made its way into the camp. “It was about watches,” he recalls. “I recognised the name Patek Philippe. There was a coupon you could send in for information.
“The watches were expensive and I knew they were beyond my means,” says Woehrle. “But I had given my watch to a clergyman in the camp, Murdo Macdonald.
“So, I filled out my information on that little card, adding a PS, asking if they could send a watch I could afford. I explained that I could pay them when I got home,” says Woehrle. He admits he didn’t hold out much hope, but at that point, anything new, anything different, would have meant the world to him.
“Several months went by and I’d kind of forgotten about it,” he says. “Then, one morning, my senior officer, who had just come from the camp commandant’s office, told me a parcel had arrived from Geneva, from the watch company Patek Philippe.”
According to Woehrle’s senior officer, the camp commandant hadn’t wanted to hand the watch over at first because he thought it could be used to bribe the guards. “My senior officer told him, 'Commandant, I know Lt Woehrle, and he would be so pleased to have the contents of that parcel that he would never, ever abuse it.’”
“The next day I opened that package,” continues Woehrle, “and there was this perfectly beautiful wristwatch on a black alligator strap. The news ran all through the camp. There was a line of men all up and down the hall, outside of my room. They all had to see that watch. Such a thing arriving at that camp from the finest watchmaker in the world, addressed to a PoW… It was hard to comprehend.
“It was thrilling, absolutely thrilling, just to hold the watch,” says Woehrle. “To see the sweep hand, to wear it. I can’t tell you how many people asked, 'Can I see it again?’ It was an event, not just for me, but for all of us.”
The arrival of the Patek Philippe provided a respite from the grinding, daily routine. Then came another, less welcome, change. In January, 1945, all the PoWs were abruptly moved to Stalag VII-A in Moosburg, Bavaria; the Russians were approaching. The men travelled by foot, nearly 70 miles, in the freezing cold. Woehrle spent a gruelling four months at Stalag VII-A. It was, he recalls, “a real concentration camp. A very wretched place”.
“One day we heard explosions and saw plumes of smoke off in the distance in the town of Moosburg,” continues Woehrle. “Finally, an American flag went up. A Scotsman next to me said, 'I don’t mean to be unpatriotic, laddie, but that’s the bloody finest flag that I’ve ever seen!’”
The date was April 29, 1945. Later that day, General George S. Patton rolled into the camp and liberated the men. Woehrle’s eyes well up at the memory. “Tears of joy ran down our faces,” he says. “We couldn’t believe it. The war was over.”
Woehrle returned home to Minnesota, the Patek still strapped to his wrist. He began working in the film industry and fulfilled his promise to the watch company, duly sending $300 for the watch. The only time the Patek left his possession was when Woehrle sent it back to Geneva for servicing.
In the mid-1970s, Woehrle and his wife were returning home one evening when they saw a burglar fleeing their house. Among the items stolen was the watch. In 2010, his niece, Louise, was working on a documentary about her uncle, Stalag Luft III: One Man’s Story. After hearing the watch story for the first time, she contacted Patek Philippe. Unable to find an exact replacement, the Swiss house presented Woehrle with the next best thing: a 1950s reference 1584J in yellow gold. Another Patek for Woehrle to treasure.
Film by Louise Woehrle of Whirlygig Productions
“I think it’s hard for the average person to appreciate what it meant to us,” says Charles Woehrle, 97, from his home in St Paul, Minnesota. The “it” is his first Patek Philippe, a reference 1461 stainless-steel wristwatch, which arrived for him in a package at Stalag Luft III during the Second World War.
A lieutenant in the US Eighth Air Force, Woehrle was a prisoner of war at the officers’ camp that inspired the classic war film The Great Escape. He was captured after being shot down on his sixth mission as a bombardier on May 29, 1943. The US crew was attacking a German submarine pen at the time.
“As we dropped the bombs,” explains Woehrle, “I followed them in my sights. They went down like a school of fish. When I looked up I saw a lot of flak. The Germans had us. We were hit, losing four of our crew. It was a sad, sad day.” Woehrle parachuted from the aircraft but was captured shortly afterwards by the Germans and taken to Stalag Luft III.
In the 1963 film, starring Steve McQueen and Richard Attenborough, a group of PoWs tunnel their way to freedom. The painstaking work was done with handmade tools, as well as some which were “lifted” from local workmen.
Three tunnels were excavated, necessitating the displacement of a large quantity of earth. “We put it in the walls of our barracks and between the seats in the theatre, where prisoners put on performances,” continues Woehrle. “That theatre would not have been made if it wasn’t for the tunnelling.”
Woehrle himself was not among the men who tried to escape from the camp, many of whom were recaptured and shot. “It was,” as Woehrle describes it, “a dark time for all of us.”
Nearly a year after he was captured, in March 1944, Woehrle came across some promotional literature that had made its way into the camp. “It was about watches,” he recalls. “I recognised the name Patek Philippe. There was a coupon you could send in for information.
“The watches were expensive and I knew they were beyond my means,” says Woehrle. “But I had given my watch to a clergyman in the camp, Murdo Macdonald.
“So, I filled out my information on that little card, adding a PS, asking if they could send a watch I could afford. I explained that I could pay them when I got home,” says Woehrle. He admits he didn’t hold out much hope, but at that point, anything new, anything different, would have meant the world to him.
“Several months went by and I’d kind of forgotten about it,” he says. “Then, one morning, my senior officer, who had just come from the camp commandant’s office, told me a parcel had arrived from Geneva, from the watch company Patek Philippe.”
According to Woehrle’s senior officer, the camp commandant hadn’t wanted to hand the watch over at first because he thought it could be used to bribe the guards. “My senior officer told him, 'Commandant, I know Lt Woehrle, and he would be so pleased to have the contents of that parcel that he would never, ever abuse it.’”
“The next day I opened that package,” continues Woehrle, “and there was this perfectly beautiful wristwatch on a black alligator strap. The news ran all through the camp. There was a line of men all up and down the hall, outside of my room. They all had to see that watch. Such a thing arriving at that camp from the finest watchmaker in the world, addressed to a PoW… It was hard to comprehend.
“It was thrilling, absolutely thrilling, just to hold the watch,” says Woehrle. “To see the sweep hand, to wear it. I can’t tell you how many people asked, 'Can I see it again?’ It was an event, not just for me, but for all of us.”
The arrival of the Patek Philippe provided a respite from the grinding, daily routine. Then came another, less welcome, change. In January, 1945, all the PoWs were abruptly moved to Stalag VII-A in Moosburg, Bavaria; the Russians were approaching. The men travelled by foot, nearly 70 miles, in the freezing cold. Woehrle spent a gruelling four months at Stalag VII-A. It was, he recalls, “a real concentration camp. A very wretched place”.
“One day we heard explosions and saw plumes of smoke off in the distance in the town of Moosburg,” continues Woehrle. “Finally, an American flag went up. A Scotsman next to me said, 'I don’t mean to be unpatriotic, laddie, but that’s the bloody finest flag that I’ve ever seen!’”
The date was April 29, 1945. Later that day, General George S. Patton rolled into the camp and liberated the men. Woehrle’s eyes well up at the memory. “Tears of joy ran down our faces,” he says. “We couldn’t believe it. The war was over.”
Woehrle returned home to Minnesota, the Patek still strapped to his wrist. He began working in the film industry and fulfilled his promise to the watch company, duly sending $300 for the watch. The only time the Patek left his possession was when Woehrle sent it back to Geneva for servicing.
In the mid-1970s, Woehrle and his wife were returning home one evening when they saw a burglar fleeing their house. Among the items stolen was the watch. In 2010, his niece, Louise, was working on a documentary about her uncle, Stalag Luft III: One Man’s Story. After hearing the watch story for the first time, she contacted Patek Philippe. Unable to find an exact replacement, the Swiss house presented Woehrle with the next best thing: a 1950s reference 1584J in yellow gold. Another Patek for Woehrle to treasure.
Film by Louise Woehrle of Whirlygig Productions
