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From Canterbury to Cologne


PART III (of3) (of3) )

I remember that night very well as I slept in an open barn with the temperature well below freezing point. The next morning I found myself resting against a cow, rather smelly but nevertheless warmer than what I would have been. We were prepared for anything here at Dinant as Jerry had made an unexpected punch along the Ardennes, absolutely routing the American Army, but we were thankful for our own troops stopping all that, and so we spent a few peaceful weeks there, even if it was extremely cold. Dinant and the surrounding countryside is really beautiful and by reports is the Lake District of Belgium. After three nights sleeping in the barn, our T.H.Q. were fortunate in settling in a house by the side of a farm, and for the first time for ages I slept in a real bed, which made it worse being turned out at between 2 to 3am, after getting nice and warm and really comfortable, for guard duty. The Belgian farmer and his wife were a very nice couple and very hardworking. They had two sons, but unfortunately they were both mentally handicapped, and both had to be washed, dressed and fed.

We did quite well at this place and many a day we had eggs given to us from the farm. The weather was very cold indeed, and the snow was easily 6 feet thick, so you can guess transport difficulties were terrible at times. Many a time we had to borrow sledges to take the rations around to the gun sites. We did get a break one evening as a film unit came along and we saw the film ‘Bathing Beauty’ which broke the monotony of the war. We all did actually get another bath too, the first since leaving Weert, but we had to travel back 15 miles for it. I was darn cold as it was fixed up in an old barn and the bath turned out to be just warm water running from a pipe. It took me hours afterwards to get warm again. I warmed our spirits too when we got back to camp and heard that the Russians were only 40 miles from Berlin.

Our next move was to Weert via Roosteren which I greatly favoured as I knew I would meet friends I had made there, as well as getting one or two really good baths in. We were only there a few days, nearing the Maas before the end of the week. We were back in the front line again, and well we knew it with the shells being thrown at us. The next day we moved another mile or so up and were rather fortunate to get into another house which, although very blitzed, was more comfortable that sleeping in a dug-out. Our guns were guarding a bridge that the R.E.’s were trying to erect over a wide flooded area and also the River Maas. Jerry had flooded this very badly to stop us from advancing, but the R.E.’s did a very good job on the bridge and it was here that they made one of the longest bridges. We came into contact with the American Army here too and many a time I was brought an American casualty. During our stay here a Dutch soldier came to the house, it was his house, and he told us that during the German occupation he and his brother lived and stayed under the floorboards whilst the Germans interrogated his parents.

It was here on 22nd February 1945 that I heard I was going to England for 12 days leave. Was I happy! It was my first leave for nearly 19 months and I’m sure I deserved it. I did quite a lot of travelling around this part as I had to get a number of chaps to the dentist, and quite by accident just outside Hertogenbosch, we almost drove into a battle that was going on around the town. We made a hasty retreat. Our R.H.Q. were about three miles behind us, and to get to it we had to go through a heavily mined village call Venkay. Everything was ruined in one way or another; pictures on walls, electric light switches, lavatory flushes, everything that could be easily handled. The Infantry suffered many casualties whilst in this village as well as any airborne men. From there I had my much looked forward to leave and remember not eating any breakfast owing to the excitement.

It was grand being home again in dear Old England and I only wished whilst journeying up to London from Dover, that I could put my feelings into a poem. Leaving again was a
terrible ordeal. I often wondered how I got onto the train after leaving my wife and I hoped never to have to experience such heartbreak ever again.

It took me nearly three days to catch up with my Regiment as they had progressed so quickly. But what a time to get back! We were on this side of the Rhine all ready to go across, even our L.A.A. guns were only 10 feet apart from each other and thousands of other calibre were just the same. Around midnight the guns opened up and everything was sent over there, no wonder the Germans that were left alive were nearly all shell shocked and dazed, we felt the same. It was a terrible din and only people who have been in the real artillery battle know what it is like. The next morning we went across the Rhine on rafts and picked up still more of the dazed Germans that had come out of their dug-outs.

One incident I well remember; we had made Jerry dig graves for their fellow men who had been killed. One grave that they dug was not long enough for one of their own dead, so they just pushed him in and stood on his chest until they bent him a little, thus getting him in that way.

We moved on that day and got billeted in a very shell torn farmhouse, but still got plenty of milk and eggs. Whilst on this farm I rigged up a bathroom in a cow-shed as I found a decent bath in amongst the rubble. We were there only three days then moved to Rees-on-the-Rhine further upstream, staying there for just over a week. We actually had a good game of football there and our Battery played another in the Regiment. I saw a calf being born, quite an experience.

Our next move was quite a long journey as Jerry was on the run and he was moving very rapidly. One of our drivers went sick so I drove his 3 ton Bedford. We past through Osnabruck at 5.30am and the town was still in flames; many a time I thought the lorry would catch fire and even though the roads looked impassable, we went through. How the tyres and springs stood up to it all still beats me as I had a good 7 tons of stores on my wagon. We eventually stopped and camped in a big German farm at midnight and did not move off again until 8.30pm next day. That afternoon I saw a foal born; it would have died but for the efforts of one our Bombardiers who was a farmer. You can imagine the speed the Germans were retreating as we didn’t stop until 6am the following day. We just flopped down anywhere jin a field and slept.

We moved off again at 11am and arrived at Celle a small town 3 miles from Belsen Concentration Camp. About two and a half hours after being at Celle, I thought I had been poisoned and really thought I was going to peg it. I had been in the back of a lorry during the last move and directly I got off the wagon I went for a mug of water. About ten minutes later I had a piece of bread and cheese and a cup of tea, and then, Oh Dear, What a lousy feeling I had in my tummy. My first thoughts were that Jerry had poisoned the water, and told an officer to get the water tested. The M.O. was sent for, he tested the water and found it o.k., then asked me how I had travelled. He came to the conclusion that I hadn’t eaten all day and had been breathing in all the fumes from the lorry. A couple of hours in bed with a good tonic soon cured me, but I never wanted to feel as ill as that again.

It was 7.30pm the next day that we arrived in the notorious Belsen Camp. Explain details,
etc. Dr. Kleine Kramer, Erma Greis, the little French girl, washing and watching them, the Czechoslovakian girl who worshipped me like a hero, the 2000 in a grave, the Latvian Marine whose son was in the R.A.F. and won the D.F.C., the watch I got…

After getting comfortable, I was told I was being posted. What a blow. Three days after hearing, I was on my way to Bruges. I got there in three days after several journeys by lorry and lastly by train, which had no windows in it. It snowed on this journey which made it less comfortable and I would have willingly have given £1 for a cup of tea that night on the train. I stayed in a school building in Bruges and slept up on a wooden bunk. A vast change to being under canvas. I learned the next morning that I was on a clerk’s course for ten weeks. I enjoyed the course very much, learning how to be a real Army clerk and at the same time, learning how to type. There were plenty of free evenings for me as I finished at 4.30 to 5pm every night and had most of the week-end off. The amusements there were colossal as there were plenty of cinemas and Ensa Bender, a big fair, in the main square. Week-ends I used to go either to Knokke or Blankenberge, both seaside resorts, where there was a NAAFI canteen and dance hall.

After leaving Bruges I was posted to Cologne, arriving there on 8th August 1945. After being in the office some time I was asked to become Quarter Master for the team. We owned 5 beautiful houses 6 miles outside Cologne, between three villages named Goeloff, Furth and Rodenkirchen. We were waited on hand and foot by Germans who cooked, made our beds and did just about everything for us. I certainly had a good life, lived like a lord, until being demobbed. Soon after being in Cologne, I ran a dance which was a big success, and it was not until about 12 men were left in the team that I stopped running it, as there was a Regiment of Belgians came into Cologne and I didn’t feel like running it for their benefit.

Although I was sorry to leave such luxury, I was so happy to return to my country and civvy street after my many tours.

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