Historian Alan Roberts brings you part one of three love stories from Raikeswood Camp. Watch out for parts two and three.

This is a love story about Second Lieutenant Otto Goerg a prisoner of war at Raikeswood Camp in Skipton during 1918 and 1919, and his young sweetheart Lizzie Krenz. It is told from just some of the many letters Otto wrote to his girlfriend in Berlin. Otto is writing his own deeply personal feelings, not knowing they would appear in an English newspaper over a hundred years later. The course of true love does not always run smoothly as will be seen.

Signs of Raikeswood Camp are few on the ground. There is the pattern of the surrounding streets and fields, and there are a few artefacts in Craven Museum including a very bent silver fork recovered by archaeologists, but for twenty letters to appear after so long is quite remarkable.

Like many Skipton prisoners Otto Goerg was captured on the first day of the Battle of Cambrai. Goerg (his name rhymes with the ‘berg’ in iceberg) was attached to a machine gun company which bore the full force of a mighty British attack involving hundreds of slow-moving tanks. Goerg was transferred to an officers’ camp at Colsterdale near Masham.

Prisoners were allowed to send just two letters per week using a specially printed letter form. Typically Goerg would squeeze just 150 to 200 words onto each form. Goerg would trade letter-writing ‘slots’ with other prisoners to increase his output. Postage was free, but all letters were subject to censorship by the British authorities in London.

The first letter is to his parents: ‘Most of all I need a cap…, some simple underclothing, two collars, handkerchiefs, books to read and to write in..., and German sausages. Have you still got a book on double-entry bookkeeping?’ He is worried about his mother.

Otto is twenty-six years old and runs the family jewellery firm based in a small village in a remote hilly region of Germany. Clearly a mere setback like being captured is not going to interfere with his business. He also asks for some money.

To Lizzie, a few weeks later: it is his birthday. He is now 27, but is unbelievably sad to spend it without her. He says he feels twice as old as that and feels the war has cost him his youth. Has she received his letters?

February 1918. It is eleven weeks since Goerg was captured. He still has not heard from Lizzie. Has she forgotten him? Things are fair to middling (given that he is a prisoner). He had his first news from home eight days earlier, but cannot write to her every week. ‘Yesterday I arrived in a new camp [Skipton].’ No further comment about the move! The book the German officers wrote discusses the move to Skipton at great length. Goerg had other priorities.

April 1918 and it’s back to his family. He does not know anything more about Grandad, but the news about the business is good. He does not think his brother Walter will be able to visit Munich, perhaps Hamburg and Berlin will be better. They need a representative in Berlin. It’s a good idea to visit the Leipzig Trade Fair too.

On Sunday and Monday they were ankle-deep in snow. The next few days will be decisive. The great German spring offensive was just over a month old: ‘I cannot see the slightest reason for optimism,’ he wrote.

Elizabeth or Lizzie Krenz was just eighteen years old when Otto was captured. She had been born in Wroclaw in today’s Poland. Her father had been a doctor, but died in middle age. She was living with Fritz Selke and his wife in an apartment block in the very fashionable town of Charlottenburg near Berlin. Letters were normally addressed to Lizzie Krenz-Selke. Although not related to the family, the double-barrelled name simply showed Lizzie was living, and presumably working, at their address. She was clearly a cut above a domestic servant: most likely she was a paid companion rather on the level of a governess. Fritz, a very successful businessman, died in December 1917: his widow Agnes would certainly need the company.

Otto wrote over 140 letters to Lizzie during his captivity or one letter every five days. Just sixteen of those are known to survive.

In June 1918 Otto receives a new photograph of Lizzie. The tomboyish young girl he left behind has matured into a young woman. ‘Lizzie, I love you so much, I miss you so much,’ he writes. His brother-in-law was killed after two years’ continuous service at the front. His sister is left on her own with two young children. His parents will take it badly.

Two months later, the mood changes: ‘Dear Lizzie, I can confirm that I have gratefully received your letter… written on 27th July and postmarked 31st. Content just 31 words.’ He was not exactly ‘overjoyed’. He had tried to imitate the style of her previous ‘long’ letter, the first for over three weeks, and left most of the precious paper unused.

Things do not look good. She no longer sends him kisses. What will happen next? Can Otto and Lizzie rescue their romance?