大象传媒

It was a long ride down to Amalfi, which is on the bay of Salerno.
We expected the beach to be as the one on which we had landed as it was near by, but it was the opposite, just a narrow strip of shingle.
This place had a lot of history behind it, of Pirates, and the like, it used to be the Kingdom of Amalfi and I suppose we were adding to its history being invaders.
Tunnels led up from the beach to the main town, but off these tunnels were apartments where people live I managed to see inside one, and it was bright and airy, with windows, and a balcony looking onto the sea, all very attractive.
The coast road ran from Positano, through, Amalfi, Atrani, Maori, and Sorrento and on to Naples, ten miles away.
The rest camp had been set up in a school, with plenty of staff to look after us, and ran very smoothly. Our own Sgt.Cook Darky Butt was in charge of the cooking and he seemed to have set himself up as Mayor of the place, he looked after us well and always ready when a few Lire is wanted.
Amalfi, covered only a small area, and it was not long before we had visited all the bars, the church, of St. Andrew, which had an interesting cross made of mother of pearl, that had been brought back from the Holy Land, many years ago. I was surprised at the lack of relics from the past, in such an ancient place.
The other villages along the coast had nothing to offer us. So we decided to visit Ravello, which sat high on the cliffs above. It looked a hard climb, so we decided to hire a horse drawn carriage. This was fine, until the going got too much for the poor horse, and we had to get out and push the rest of the way. It was hard going, but at least the horse did not ask to ride.
On arriving in Ravello, we met up with fellows from the fifth Survey Regiment, who had been with us all along, in Italy. They knew of a place, with music, good food and wine, so we went along glad of the company. It was very good, so good in fact that we stayed with them until the early morning, eating, drinking, and singing, the two musicians knew all the English songs from way back. When morning came, being daylight we thought to get back to camp for a shower. On the way back we came upon a large house with two sentries armed with swords, beside two large and imposing iron gates. We tried asking whose house it was, but before we could make ourselves understood, the gates opened and a car came out. As it turned onto the road, it stopped and an English-speaking gentleman came over to us and asked if we needed any assistance. Taken aback, we rather sheepishly said no, and when he drove off we asked the sentry who he was, it appears. He was Prince Umberto the elder son of the then King Victor Emmanuel, of Italy.
After this historical meeting between us and the future King of Italy which could have gone down in the history of Amalfi, that is if anybody had been about to record it. Perhaps he has mentioned this meeting in his memoirs.
We now made our way back to our beds, breathing the soft warm air coming in from the sea, which was much, needed after a night spent in the smoky caf茅.
We lazed about the remainder of the days, until the wagon came to take us back to the regiment.
In some ways we were sorry to leave, the comfortable bed, hot showers, and good food and be able to eat it at table. We had been sent there for a rest and a change of routine, which was suppose to do us good, may be it did, but I know I was pleased to get back in the old routine with the rest of the boys. We had no trouble along Route six, and the weather had improved slightly here.
I soon settled in to the old routine and do not remember how much longer we stayed, only that we were there for nine weeks in all.
When the breakthrough came we were moved to join a Guards Brigade in the Abbrutzzi. Here we fired propaganda shells containing leaflets telling the Germans to surrender, we also fired high explosive shells to help them make up their minds.
With the Guards Brigade we joined a South African Armoured Division, the idea being to try and break through to Rome. It was a slow and difficult trip through this mountainous terrain, with lots of casualties but we reached Rome and crossed the river Tiber, to settle north of Rome, we had not been allowed through the centre.
Staying a few days we moved off via Bagnoreggio, on our way to Florence which was to be the next our next target.
The countryside we were passing though was really spectacular, also well known for its wine.
At Orvieto I met with an Italian who had spent many years in Glasgow and was very pleased to see us, he very generously brought out his best Chianti and sent us merrily on our way. All the Italians that I had met up with were very friendly and it seemed were pleased to see us so many had worked in Britian.
We only paused by Ovieto for one night and were off again never to forget the wine.
In this area it was stop and go, ideal country enabling the Germans to hold us up at will.
Our guns were leap-frogging so they were able to keeping up a constant barrage of fire while moving all the while.
At times the going was very rough and tough, on mountain roads there is little room to manoeuvre.
One of the last nights I spent on this journey, which as I remember took two weeks, was in a large house, with a magnificent staircase leading above.
The Colonel forbade us to walk on it, he said our boots would ruin it.
I think we agreed with him, though our mood was not to look after somebody鈥檚 polished floor. Anyway we found another way up, to the rooms above they were lovely empty. What I did find was a large bathroom, it had two baths, two toilets, in fact two of everything that would be in a bathroom, all in one room. I though that I had struck gold, but there was no water!
We arrived in Florence, to fined as expected, all the bridges, except the Ponte Vecchio, had been blown up.
I remember crossing the river Arno on a pontoon bridge. It was quite an experience crossing a fast flowing river on a narrow floating bridge, which was long and seemed longer when you were in the middle.
We now joined a Gurkha Brigade with the idea of breaking the German line and getting to Venice in a hurry. But it was many weeks and many changes of position across the country with hard fighting and in the end I did not get to see Venice as the Germans surrendered on the 2nd of may 1945.
I was on the road leading into Padova, when every thing came to a halt. It seemed very strange just waiting on the road for information, wondering what was to happen next as no messages were passing over the air no movement along the road.
A Gurkha Officer said 鈥淚t鈥檚 all over, the campaign is finished in Italy.鈥� All around as far as I could see all roads were full with everybody standing around looking as though they had suddenly became redundant, which they had as far as Italy was concerned. An hour or so later we received orders to move to San Angelo, a small village nearby. I expect it was to get us out of the way.
We now sat about for two days, then, our twenty-four guns not being needed anymore, we were moved into an Italian barracks in the town of Villa Vincentina nearby.
We were dubious of this situation because we thought the spit and polish might start.

Jimmy Skinner the RA RSM, who had been commissioned, in the field, was now a Lieutenant decided we should fly our flag at the main gate. The problem was there was no way we could get high enough up the pole to fix the flag, as the pole was a permanent fixture. Now Jimmy wouldn鈥檛 fly it at half-mast, so in the end he had the pole cut down and when the flag was fixed, tied it on again. I had nothing to do with it. I didn鈥檛 agree with the idea of cutting down something so handsome.
On Thursday 24th May 1945 we moved on through San Canziano d鈥橧sonzo, in Friuli, Northern Italy, onto a farm, where we were to stay for many weeks.
There was now the possibility of trouble from Tito鈥檚 boys, who were all around us so our guns were prepared, also our wireless networks were ready.
Everything remained quiet and peaceful, so when settled in, we set about organising a dance. A large square of concrete on the farm was cleaned. I think that originally it was used to dry the seeds.
Coloured lights were made and strung about the place.
A shortage of glasses was overcome by cutting down Canadian beer bottles, we poured oil in to the bottle up to the size of glass we wanted, then a red hot poker was plunged into the oil and the glass broke at the level of the oil. Sugar that we had acquired from a refinery in Padova was given to the local ice cream man who produced some very nice ice cream. This went well with the cakes and wine we had prepared.
On a trip to Udine, a larger town near by, I bought paint brushes and coloured pencils, with which we produced nice posters in full colour, and with a trip around the villages nearby soon had them posted up in the best positions.
They stirred up a lot of interest. Everybody was invited to wait by the poster on the evening of the dance if they wished to come, and they would be taken home after.
Nothing like this had happened to them before. Their war had been much longer than ours had.
On the Saturday when the trucks arrived, there were whole families on board. I stood waiting to see how many would turn up and when the truck arrived from Pieris, on board were the musicians, and the first person off the truck was a young lady in a blue dress and shoes of the same colour, the maestro鈥檚 daughter. That鈥檚 when I took charge and invited her to come and sample our offerings.
This was the start of what has lasted fifty-four years. Nella鈥檚 father, brother Bruno and Uncle Anibale supplied the music. Fortunately we had acquired a piano many months before and it went well with the trumpet of Bruno and the saxophone of Anibale. The maestro who was a teacher of music and conductor of the orchestra was on the piano. These dances were good for us all, including the civilians, without whom we would not have been able to dance.
In preparation for the dances I had my uniform prepared by the lady of the farm, and as I paid with sugar the service was excellent. The dances were a great success full each and every week.
One or two of us who thought we could dance gave lessons during the mornings. We had a great time and it was surprising how many came wanting to learn.
We also produced a Wall Sheet, to which everybody who wanted could contribute. We accepted poems, puzzles, jokes, crosswords, in fact anything that might be of interest. The most popular section, was Poet鈥檚 Corner some very good poems were written.

A story that continued each issue was of the topical happenings in the tribe of Two-OO, this was, of course, us, as our unit sign was two hundred and appeared on all our vehicles. Although nobody was named, it was easy for us recognise who was being written about. Only the editor knew the write. I later discovered it was our section officer.
We produced twelve issues, and it was very popular with everybody. Jock Elder was the editor, and chief instigator, he took them home with him after the war.
Having submitted my marriage application, I began to loose interest as Nella began to occupy my mind, then, I was sent for by the Colonel. He said it was his duty to read to me the statistics of failed war-time marriages abroad, which he dutiful did, adding that they were from the Great War. He knew they would not affect my decision, so my papers were passed higher up the ladder.
We then decided to hold a dance in Grado, which is an island with a causeway that had been built out to it in 1936. A lovely place 6th century, older than nearby Venice.
It was here during one of the dances on Monday 18th June 1945 Nella and I got engaged. This was one of the few moments that we had managed to be by ourselves. I gave Nella a ring, which I had bought in Monfalcone, the town where she was born.
With my old friend Freddie Poole I decided to take a short cut across the fields to Monfalcone in search of a Jeweller. I am ashamed to say it and Freddie never admitted it, but we got lost. It took us most of the day to find Monfalcone and the Jeweller and get back.
He had no gold, to show us but I acquired a nice silver diamond ring from him, that I know surprised and pleased Nella.
All this happened just in time, as two days later some sort of agreement had been reached with Tito, and he went back to Yugoslavia. Once again we were on the move, this time to Riccione, by the Adriatic Sea.
We stayed for around six months. It was a beautiful place, all sea and sunshine and no duties, but how ever beautiful, everybody wanted to get home. For myself I was awaiting permission to marry, and having filled and handed in five forms, with five copies of each, which Sgt. Gordon Howland kindly typed for me. I expected to get an early reply, and having just seen the Colonel knew things were on the move. But of course it took nearly a year.
We were stationed in the Albergo Della Ristorante Della Station, Riccione, on the 2nd floor with our own staircase to the bar.
There was just the Signal Section, thirty in all with me in charge. We had a great time. Nobody was there to bother us as long as we caused no trouble.
An order came through that we were to rise at 7am and go for a 5-mile run before breakfast. After much argument, and protest, we managed to get it changed to a swim in the sea. This was allowed mainly because we were away from the rest of the regiment. Though, it was stipulated that everybody must go in the sea, failing this we would be back on the run. So, of a morning every one, even those still suffering from the night before were dragged, pushed, bribed, frog-marched to the sea front and thrown in dressed or undressed.
However after a few minutes in the water you didn鈥檛 want to get out, it was wonderful. We only came out through hunger, as we didn鈥檛 want to miss breakfast.
There was very little entertainment in Riccione. Once a week a show at the local opera house, a quaint old style place, very small but cosy and very faded. NAFFI tea was more enjoyable than most shows. One show consisted of two rather elderly ladies, one with a violin, the other with a cello, rather dry for us considering we had waited two weeks for the show, but we took it rather well. The ladies looked much younger and attractive on the poster, which had hung on the door for weeks before. I was pleased, and rather surprised, that they were not given the bird. Instead most of us quietly slipped out, drawn by the excitement of NAFFI tea. Nothing much else happened worth mentioning. I tried my hand at sailing a small yacht, and at times when the weather was right, was allowed to take it out by myself, very enjoyable. Otherwise we spent many hours on the beach. It was just like the desert but with water. I did manage to get leave to go and see Nella, but it was difficult to arrange transport, as only certain vehicles were allowed on the road, and there was no public transport.
Eventually we moved to a spa town called Salsamaggiore, not far from Parma and Fidenza. It was while on the way there that I managed a detour and spent a few days with Nella.

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