大象传媒

George C Souter 1475292

Royal Artillery and D Company 1st Batt Royal Warwickshire Regiment

I enlisted, in Nairn, Scotland, as a member of the Royal Artillery Territorial Army 61st Anti-Tank Regiment, part of the 51st Highland Division, and was called up the day before war was declared. I fully expected and wanted to go to France with my friends, however, the army dropped a bombshell. I was too young. Along with a number of others who were also under age for overseas service we were classified 鈥榠mmatures鈥� in army parlance and were told we were not going to France with the 51st.

At the time we were devastated at being left behind but as events evolved, culminating with the 51st鈥檚 brave stand and capture at St Valery we turned out to have been fortunate . Our anti-tank guns fired 3鈥� shells and were next to useless against a modern tank as the shells just bounced off. In November of 1939 we were converted to 269 Battery of the 63rd Heavy Anti-Aircraft Regiment, however, there was much angst among the troops when we had to remove our coveted 51st Highland Div Flashes and replace these by those of our new Division. We moved to Burrow Head, above the little fishing village of Isle of Whithorn in Galloway. At this location we trained using first world war guns mounted on the cliffs, firing out over the Irish Sea at drogues being trailed by aircraft and drones.

When we completed our training we moved into the cities of the North of England and at the height of the Luftwaffe raids on the North of England and Newcastle on Tyne in particular we were regularly in action firing 4.5鈥� Heavy Anti Aircraft Artillery on enemy bombers as they attacked the docks, factories and marshalling yards or overflew heading for other locations. While in action we didn鈥檛 give as much thought as we perhaps should to the destruction and danger caused by the bombs and shrapnel which were falling. While in Newcastle I met and fell in love with my wife Lottie to whom I have been married for almost sixty years.

In early 1942 we joined the troopship Louis Pasteur, in Gourock, which was to transport us via Freetown to Durban in South Africa, where we left the ship. During the journey, as trained Royal Artillery anti aircraft gunners, we manned the anti-aircraft guns positioned in large 鈥榯ubs鈥� around the vessel.

The kindness of the people of Durban is something which I will always remember, nothing was too much trouble for them and they looked after us well before we departed two weeks later in the Dunera for Bombay and shortly thereafter we were taken by sea round to Ceylon. At one time during the journey to Bombay I remember coming on deck to witness the amazing sight of the light cruiser HMS Newcastle keeping pace with us with an enormous hole in her bow. We understood she had been torpedoed and a hole had been blown in her bow. The Newcastle鈥檚 speed did not appear affected by the damage and in fact as she rose out of each trough, water poured in spectacular fashion from the hole. I discovered later she was to be patched up in India before eventually going to New York for final repair.

We had apparently been transferred to Ceylon to provide anti-aircraft cover for the Island as it was thought that the Japanese were about to commence air attacks on military installations located on the island. However, this threat never materialised and while we created gun pit after gun pit and repositioned the guns in various locations throughout Ceylon we were never called in to action.

In early 1944 we moved from Ceylon to Jubbulpore in India, a marathon train journey over eight days in the same train which had very basic timber slatted seats. The conditions on board were sweltering and whenever we stopped guards with fixed bayonets had to be positioned alongside the train to keep back the overwhelming hordes of professional beggars who descended whenever we stopped We also took advantage of the water towers which were positioned at these stops to top up the steam engines and I can clearly remember the pleasure of showering under these whenever the opportunity arose.

Almost immediately we were moved to Delhi where we were to be trained by KOYLI Instructors as Infantry following which would be posted to our 鈥榗ounty regiments鈥�. This never seemed practical and true to form the army transferred us all to the 1st Battalion the Royal Warwickshire Regiment where because of my rifle scores I was given specific training as a sniper and equipped with a special Canadian Ross rifle and telescopic sight.

Our training was specifically aimed at the Army鈥檚 move back into Burma where we were to be the lead platoon in the Royal Warwicks part in the attack to recapture Rangoon, however just before we kicked off we heard that the Japanese had moved out and the regimental HQ shot in ahead of us. The attack was to have been amphibious having been built up on Ramree Island off the coast of Burma, however, with the Japanese withdrawal the landing craft deposited us unopposed in Rangoon. It was an uneasy feeling marching through Rangoon, the streets were empty and the rhythmic crunch of our boots as we marched forward through the town was eerie. However, within a couple of days life returned and the traders reappeared with the streetside market stalls reappearing like magic. We weren鈥檛 long in Rangoon and moved up country to relieve the Gloucesters and took over their trenches in order to deal with the anticipated Japanese counter attack which never materialised. The damage the Japanese did to the infrastructure of Rangoon as they moved out had to be seen to be believed, they smashed everything taps, sinks, pipes etc in an attempt to deprive us of water.

Strangely my Military Service Record did not show my service in Burma and in fact indicated I was still in India when in fact I had moved to Burma .

At the end of the war we were flown from India in American Liberators to Lydda in the Middle East where we remained a very short time before being flown home to Cambridge and eventually demobilised in York. Sadly my best friend Ivor Richards from Swansea, with whom I had become very close, was killed when his Liberator crashed in France, almost in sight of home..

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