When I was guarding Spandau, we didn't have any contact with the inmates. I did catch a glimpse of Algert Speer once while he was working in his garden, but we weren't supposed to talk with each other, and we didn't. I composed as song about it decades later, and I think I posted the lyrics on the Institute once, but I couldn't find it with the "search posts" feature. Uncle Ken knows how that thing works, so maybe he will find it for us later. If not, I can post it again because it pretty well sums up the experience.
The guy mentioned in Old Dog's post was probably what we called a "warder". That job was staffed by Germans when I was there, but they apparently used allied soldiers in the early days. Each prisoner had his own warder who was the prisoner's main contact with the outside world. They were allowed to have visitors only on Christmas and their birthdays, and other than that, they were pretty isolated. They were not allowed to read newspapers, I'm not sure about TV, radio, or the mail. We were warned not to give cigarettes to the prisoners and that they would report us if we did.
I didn't get any souvenirs from Spandau, it's not like they had a gift shop or anything. The buildings were impressive Gothic looking structures. I thought at the time that the place would make a good museum someday and was disappointed to hear that it was demolished after Hess died.
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What's up with those Canadians? I haven't heard about Canadians getting this excited about anything since the 19th Century.
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