大象传媒

My name is John Sawyer and this is my Dad's story - 4919457 Pte. Arthur Sawyer. Like many ex-soldiers, he didn't talk about his wartime experiences very much but I've managed to put together the following account which I hope readers will find of interest.

My dad was 22 years old and was working as a garage mechanic when he was called up in February 1940 (d.o.b 01.08.1917). He enlisted in the South Staffordshire regiment at Whittington Barracks near Lichfield and was initially posted to the Infantry Training Centre at Worksop.

During training he became friends with a young man named Harry Grainger, who came from Brierley Hill.Whilst dad was at Worksop, he was driver to RSM Heapy and they used to make frequent trips from Worksop down to Lichfield under military orders. Dad was able to take the jeep home every weekend (with the RSM's permission)as long as he was back by 0800 hours on the following Monday morning! One weekend dad was late back owing to some really thick fog - that little misdemeanour saw him put on a three-day charge!

Prior to the end-of-training passing out parade, there was lots of square-bashing, rifle and boot-cleaning and during one inspection, the officer said "there's a mouse down the barrel of your gun" - to which my dad replied "yes, and it's stopping there, I've been cleaning this for days". Another three day charge!

Following completion of training in July 1940 he joined the Second Battalion South Staffs and was involved in the Battle of Norway from 1940 until 1942.

He was attached to the Airborne Division Depot and School in September 1942, based at St Athan in South Wales - this was a training school for his detachment - and it was here that he met his future wife (my mum) who was in the RAF at that time, making parachutes. She would have been around 20 years old when they met.

In November of 1942 my dad was given a 72 hour pass so that he and mum could get married at St John Baptist church in Bath. Dad was so nervous he forgot to say "I will"
and my grandad (mum's dad) had to prompt him!

From May 1943 until January 1944 he was posted to North Africa where he was part of a major offensive against Field Marshal Rommel's Afrika Korps. It was during this time that he was laid-up in trenches for three months, hardly able to move, such was the fierceness of the fighting.

After a stint in Sicily in January 1944,
June 6th of that year saw my dad in Normandy for the D-Day operation. He went over in a glider which landed on a field near to a village called Ooistreham, north-east of the city of Caen. He was involved in fighting 40-50 miles behind enemy lines, close to Pegasus bridge - the paratroop regiment was involved in taking this major objective.

17th September 1944 saw the Battle of Arnhem take place and dad was back, again in a glider, landing near Oosterbeck. (I went there two years ago to try to re-trace his footsteps). Oosterbeck is about 12 miles from Arnhem and the objective was to contain a landing zone in preparation for others to follow. Around 2000 men from various regiments were involved in this operation. Then the order came to take Arnhem Bridge. Fierce fighting broke out at Oosterbeck and serious losses were realised. A Major Caine ordered the retreat but my dad was one of only about 100 men from the South Staffs regiment who survived, with the help of Canadian and Polish troops.

During his war service, my dad saw overseas service in the North Atlantic, Sicily and North Africa. Towards the end of the war he was sent to Berlin where he helped to collect lorries and other equipment for military use elsewhere.
He was awarded the following medals:-
1939-45 Star: The Italy Star: The France and Germany Star: The Defence Medal: The War Medal 1939-45. He was a Reservist from January 1946, before being finally discharged in February 1954.

I vividly remember two memories from my childhood days; the first was recalling the Spitfire which flew over our family home in Bath during the early 1950's. My dad looked up....and didn't say a word. The silence said it all.
The second was remembering the nightmares that my dad suffered for years after the war ended. He used to sit up in bed and go through the motions of firing a machine gun in his sleep. Thw horrors of war....you'd have to go through it to understand just how much we all owe to people like my dad, who died - faded away, as we say of old soldiers - in 1993.

Story told by John Sawyer, taken down and submitted by John Noon.

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