Forgotten genius of PoW camp Renowned Jewish sculptor was captured by British on Western Front in First World War – but later died at the hands of Nazis in a concentration camp
AMONG the 6,000 German inmates behind the wire of Brocton Prisoner of War Camp in the wilderness of Cannock Chase was one man marked for artistic greatness – and tragedy.
Both world wars were particularly savage for sculptor Arnold Zadikow, a German Jew, but it was his fellow countrymen who would eventually deal the fatal blow.
Zadikow was shot in the shoulder and arm while serving Germany on the Western Front in the First World War and imprisoned at Brocton in Staffordshire – a maze of close to 140 wooden huts. This, it turned out, was a blessing for him – and Britain.
Now Staffordshire historian Beryl Holt, author of a book on Brocton entitled A Long Slow Walk From The Station, has launched a quest to discover more about Zadikow.
Ms Holt, chairman of Berkswich History Society, has no doubt that Zadikow, who was of Lithuanian descent, was destined for greatness.
“I am quite certain that, had he lived, everyone would have heard of him,” she said.
Slowly, the jigsaw of Zadikow’s life is being pieced together.
We know he was born in Königsberg, Prussia, in 1884, and began work in a building and carpentry business.
Finding the role unfulfilling, he landed a job with an architect, where his skills as a designer were forged.
Before the First World War broke out, young Zadikow had already been conscripted into the German army, but medically discharged with a bad back after just two months.
“When war finally broke out, he was not keen to get involved at all. He did not want to go to war,” said Ms Holt.
“I don’t know if they had such a thing as a white feather [the mark of a coward in this country], but eventually he was pressured into it.”
But Zadikow’s stint in the trenches was brief.
He was injured, captured by the British and transported to Brocton in 1917. In reality, for a man with an artistic bent this would be a the best thing that could have happened.
History has painted a somewhat bleak picture of Brocton for a reason.
All letters by prisoners were censored and only those with anything positive to say about regime allowed to be sent to Germany.
Those criticising staff and conditions were kept here in Britain and that is why the Imperial War Museum today has only a collection of damning testimonies from prisoners.
The truth is that life at Brocton was not bad – and far better than conditions on the front.
The vast majority of captured men were content to sit it out on Cannock Chase until the guns fell silent.
Ms Holt said: “It wasn’t a holiday camp – was never intended to be – and, among 6,000 men, there will be good stories and bad stories.
“There were some escapees, but the majority were happy to sit there until the war was over.
“They got regular meals, they had a library, they played sport, they had concerts, games were sent in by the German Red Cross. Life was not too bad at all.
“In good weather, they would gather blackberries and roast acorns.
“There is not a shadow of doubt the men were looked after well, even though some say they were not looked after.”
History has also been unkind to the commandant, Sir Arthur Grant, a man who saw action in the Boer War and India.
Initially based at Brocton Hall, Sir Arthur’s stint in Staffordshire was so successful, it became the blueprint for the way PoW camps should be run.
By the end of the conflict, the Scot was in charge of 20 of them.
“The commandant has reputation for being a bit tard,” said Ms Holt.
“He was not. He was a disciplinarian, but he was fair. He soon got control of the camp.
“Some of the men would steal coal and he’d say that would be taken from their daily ration.
“Yes, it could be very cold, but coal was in very short supply.
“That was not Sir Arthur mean and nasty.
“It was rationing, pure and simple. It was the same with food.”
When the prisoners were gained a of a bas- being staged a “strike” during Christmas, 1917, Sir Arthur ordered a New Zealand guard to fire at their feet. The strike dissolved immediately.
But he also had the vision to realise what a boon to the economy those enemy craftsman at his prison could be.
Under his watch, Brocton became something of an industrial estate, boasting cobblers, carpentry, craft studio, tailors, watchmakers and barbers.
And Sir Arthur was particularly aware of Arnold Zadikow’s talents.
His sculpture of Sir Arthur still stands at the commandant’s Aberdeen country estate and he drew up designs for plinths, statues and plaques which were then turned into pieces of art by British companies.
In fact, escape was the last thing on Zadikow’s mind and he returned to Germany a year after the war in October 1919, marrying two years later.
Later, with antiSemitism on the rise, he fled to Paris without his wife and daughter.
Parisians could not get enough of his creations and his skills later saw his big career break when he was appointed artistic director for acclaimed Czechoslovakian company Moser Glass in 1936 – a fateful move.
Zadikow’s family followed him to Prague shortly before the Nazi occupation and eruption of the Second World War.
His work continued for a while but his career came to an end in 1942 at the hands of the Nazis.
His life ended a year later – he died in Terezin concentration camp (also known as the Theresienstadt ghetto) from a perforated appendix. His wife and daughter survived.
In Zadikow, the Holocaust snuffed out a rare talent, a sculptor and glass designer destined for world acclaim.
Ms Holt is still searching for details of Arnold Zadikow’s life, but has discovered enough to realise the forgotten war casualty was – for a few short years – one of Staffordshire’s greatest artists.