Today we print extracts from those diaries in which Sgt Heard describes the plane crash which led to his imprisonment, the terrible treatment of Russian men and women in the POW camp, and the day he finally returned home “to the smell of tea urns and iced buns”.

Leamington-born airman Raymond Heard kept the wartime diary for his wife Jean.

He recorded leaving Scotland, his arrival in Egypt and the day in November 1941 when the Bristol Bombay aircraft on which he was observer was shot down on a sabotage mission.

A report that Sgt Observer Heard was missing was printed in the Courier on November 16, 1941, but contrary to the words of his captors, the war was not over for him.

The young man kept a diary of his time in the prisoner-of-war camp, with details of camp life and his own experiences, recording escape attempts, incidents and the Nazis’ dreadful treatment of Russian prisoners.

He also learnt German and Russian and became involved in a clandestine camp newsletter, relaying news picked up on a smuggled radio.

In one POW camp he met fellow Leamingtonian Terry Frost, who spent his time in captivity learning to paint.

Frost later became one of Britain’s best known abstract artists, but his portrait of Heard - painted on a mattress canvas using brushes made from human hair and paint mixed with oil from sardine tins - is perhaps as remarkable as his later famous works.

During his time as a POW, Raymond Heard was moved between several camps, before a long march, liberation by the Russians and eventually being sent home to England.

After the war, Mr Heard returned to the Evening Telegraph but was later able to use his knowledge of languages to get into university.

He emigrated to Canada in 1954, where he taught German until retiring in 1980. He published his memoirs through the Central Alberta Historical Society in 2003.

The book is called A Prisoner of War Diary. The Ray Heard Memoirs 1939 – 45 by Raymond P Heard.

June 17, 1941

Left Malta for Cairo, and as we penetrated further and further into the desert area, we noticed the air temperature getting higher by the hour, causing us to remove our flying clothing even though we were at 10,000ft.

The pink Egyptian dawn was just breaking as we flew down the Nile from Alexandria, and I will never forget my first view of the pyramids as we flew low over them in our approach to the runway at Heliopolis, which was where 216 Squadron was based.

November 16, 1941 The Crash

Knocked unconscious, I came to, lying on top of the bodies of the Australian wireless operator and the second pilot. I was trapped by the corner of the chart table, which was sticking into my back.