大象传媒

Onto Germany

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by a volunteer from Cleveland on behalf of Robert Hogg, and has been added to this site with his permission. Robert fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.鈥�

I thought myself very lucky to be a CQMS in the advance across Europe. There were dangers, of course and near misses, but nothing like being in the forefront of battle. To take food and stores up to the front of the company, we generally used an armour plated, tracked ammunition carrier, as more often than not, the approach roads were under shellfire. On one occasion, when returning to 鈥淏鈥� echelon, the company, the company runner, called Cockroft, hitched a lift back to battalion HQ. The road was being shelled, and one fell very close. The driver stopped instinctively. The cook and I ducked low but the runner went over the side. We were all slightly stunned and I did not know if he had been hit, he had been blown or thrown himself off. Two or three more shells came over but fell further away. We got out to look for Cockroft but there was no sign of him. We shouted his name, searching behind the walls on either side of the road and a cattle shelter in the field nearby, but got no response. I decided to carry onto Battalion H.Q. and report him missing. When I told the Orderly Room Sergeant, he said 鈥淐ockroft, he is over there鈥�, 鈥渨ere I asked?鈥� 鈥淯nder that blanket, he reported in, had a mug of char, then got down to it鈥� he said. I said 鈥渉e is well named Company Runner, for I assure you we wasted no time getting here鈥�. He must have run like the clappers.

In the Arden Forest in the dark, as we used no lights, of course, it was quiet common to run into a branch across the track or end up in a shell hole.

When the going got really bad going in the blizzards in the forest, we sometimes used small tracked vehicles called a weasel. One night, when we were serving a hot dinner to the company, the Sound in Command, asked to borrow the weasel to go to Battalion H.Q. As he had not returned after we had finished, I at down against a tree edge of the wood and fell asleep. When I awoke it was daylight and I was facing a rise at the top of which, I could see the German Positions and I felt sure they would see me if I moved. If they did not shoot me, at least I would have given away our presence. Slowly, inch by inch, I moved around the tree until I was out of view and then crawled back into the undergrowth to were the weasel was then waiting. Two days later, when the company went into attack up that hill, there was deep snow and it was snowing heavily. The dead and wounded were soon covered and lost to sight. It was some days, after the thaw, that they were recovered.

One day, after an attack, The Quartermaster told me that my company had reached its objective and captured the village. It was around noon and he said I could take a hot meal to them. When I got there, the Second in Command expressed surprise to see me as they were expecting a counter attack at any time. Normally, one or two sections at a time would come out of the line for their meal until all had been fed. The Captain said they could not leave their positions so I suggested that if he let me to have a couple of men carry the boxes, I would take food to them. This he agreed to. We had parked the carrier in the lee of a high wall, actually all that was left standing of a tall building. When I returned to Company H.Q. we found out that the carrier was buried under bricks and rubble as the wall had been hit by a shell and demolished. Under normal practice, we would have been serving a meal alongside the carrier and would have been under the falling wall. Our guardian angel had certainly looked after us.

In November 1944, my fist son was born, my son Gordon. A telegram arrived to tell me the good news. It was a fine day and I decided to walk around the field next to the farm where we had set up our cookhouse. My mind was on home and family when I heard a bullet whistle past my ear, then I heard the shot. It came from a wood on the other side of the adjacent field. It was common practice for the enemy to leave snipers behind when they withdrew hidden high up in trees. Luckily, only my head and shoulder would have been visible to him, as there was a stone wall between him and me.

Some memories fade but others remain vivid, as does the following, very much so. It was the spring of 1945 and were fighting our way through Holland towards the German Boarder but meeting with stiff resistance. It was not the usual practice, but on this occasion, I was to prepare them for burial, which would arranged by the RSM and the Padre later next day.

We had set up our cookhouse and billets in the out-buildings of a farm shed. We placed the dead in a clean covered in hay shed. In the morning, I was recovering their personal effects for disposal, when a group of small children came running into the hay shed shouting and laughing as children do. I would say they were aged from four to seven. On seeing what I was doing, they stopped short, fell silent, then quickly turned and ran off.

Up to then I had not known that there were youngsters on the farm. About forty minutes later, they all returned each carrying a posy of small wild flowers. Solemnly and quietly, they lay them on then blanket of bodies, gave a timid smile, and then walked quietly away.

No words had been spoken. As they say, actions speak louder than words.

That touching show of childish respect and compassion, in the terrible atmosphere of war, is something that I will never forget.

We pushed on into Germany and in May, our Battalion entered Hamburg. Two days later the war in Europe was over. When the area was zoned for occupation, we moved to Oberhausen on the Ruhr. I was promoted to CSM again, and remained there until discharged on 10th January 1946, and the end of my twelve years with The Colours.

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