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'see'). Captain Dennis Cockbaine supervised his work and instructed him
when to soak and fire the trenches with petrol for hygienic purposes. Dennis had decreed that this should be done at 10 a.m. one morning.
Nothing if not conscientous Shufti duly obliged. A certain sergeant,
reading at his ease, was suddenly disconcerted to find flames enveloping his nether regions. Exit Shufti in haste over the mahdam wailing "Dennis told me to do it at 10 o'clock" hotly pursued by three stripes.
Another practice was listening to the news on the tank radio (still known then as the wireless set). Both the B.B.C. and German
transmissions were appreciated, the latter in particular for renderings of 'Lilli Marlene'. Some operators could not resist adding comments of their own, much to the wrath of the unit commanders who realised that
such transmissions could be picked up and pin-pointed by unfriendly ears During the advance from Alamein danger arose which was
unexpected. One crew retired to their tank to hear the evening news. It was a cold night so they closed the hatches. The small ~ horse
power motor to charge the batteries was switched on. Everyone drowsed. By good luck some one came along and opened a hatch. Emerging to fresh air, all the crew were suffering from carbon monoxide poisoning. They staggered allover the place, helplessly intoxicated but not with alcohol. Another few minutes and they would not have recovered.
During June we spent a full day travelling for an inspection by King George VI. The second day was the actual inspection - four
hours in the baking sun. By the time the king came along the rear ranks were standing at ease smoking and no one was bothered about that. The Third day was spent travelling back to Horns. I was very sick over the tailboard of the three-ton truck on the return journey and put it down

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to travel sickness. In fact, it was jaundice. By the time I reached hospital the sickness had passed but I had to stay in for a few days. Some entertainment was laid on in the old amphitheatre.
E.N.S.A. came to do a show and the 7th Armoured Division put on their own concert 'Jerboa Strollers'.
Our C.O., Lt. Col. Hutton, managed to find sufficient pretexts to send lorries to Tunis which transported everyone in the 5th for a
week there over the three month period. On our particular trip we did
the distance of over 500 miles in 28 hours, arriving at 11 a.m. the next day. It was a very hot trip with a Khamseen blowing. Most people
camped out by the lorry on the vehicle park, although one or two had
invitations from residents. Evening amenities included fish and chips supplied by an American mobile unit which should have gone on the
invasion of Sicily. There had been insufficient room on the landing
craft, however. Our little encampment rapidly became home from home for American troops away without leave and British First Army men avoiding a training scheme.
There was an opportunity to practise schoolboy French, unused since passing School Certificate in 1936. It was surprising how much
came back with a little use. One of the French girls in Tunis was Marie Antoinette, a refugee from Moselle in Lorraine. There was good swimming in a pool at Belvedere near Ariana.
We had a little local difficulty in leaving Tunis. One lorry
was run into a bog by a drunk. The other lorry also stuck firmly trying to tow the first one out. Eventually we got away by 10 a.m. on Saturday 10th July, the day the invasion of Sicily started, and reached Horns by 11 a.m. on the Sunday.
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Back with the regiment there was a heavy morning's work
changing tracks. The tanks had been fitted with steel tracks which
proved unsatisfactory so the tracks had to be changed back to rubber again. At this time a mileage of about a 1000 was the maximum that could be expected before tracks were worn out.
There was firing range practice on several occasions. Targets were four foot by two foot at 1500 yards.
During August 1943 the tanks were repainted, desert camouflage being replaced by brown and green. There was waterproofing to be done
and exhaust extensions to be fitted to enable the tanks to be driven off landing craft through shallow water to the beach-head.
Then came the move to Tripoli where men and vehicles were
packed very close before embarkation. Sleeping at. the end of our crew, I was wakened one night by engine noise as a lone truck tried to find
its place. It went on and on and got nearer and nearer, although ever more uncertain. Finally it came to a halt just as the front wheel touched me. I moved away very quickly indeed.
Entertainment by films was laid on during this brief stay in the marshalling area. Thus we saw 'Love finds Andy Hardy' and 'Take a Letter, Darling' featuring Rosalind Russell. By far the best entertainment, however, was provided on emerging from one of these shows. 'Eggy' and Geoff C. had been investigating the possibility of more active entertainment with the women of a nearby Arab village. The recent cinema viewers stood and cheered the spectacle of Eggy and
Geoff legging it over the mahdam pursued by angry Arabs hurling stones as hard and fast as they could.
Geoff C. was a very good-looking chap with thick, black, curly
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hair. There was a famous occasion when the Brigadier's staff car drew
up alongside Ceoff's tank to take in the situation. Suddenly German high explosive burst all round. The staff car whirled round and was
away. A sliver of shrapnel slashed off the top of one of Geoff's ears. He dived into the turret to get a mirror from his small kit, took one look and howled: "My looks are gone!". He was off to the first aid dressing station without a moment's delay.
At Horns Geoff had little opportunity to practise his talent.
The only personable female around worked in the village chemist's shop. Geoff had acquired a large part of the stock by the time we left. At this period, various people attended training sessions to take trade
tests. These were held in buildings some distance back from the camp
site on the beach. Some Italian families still lived there. One of the lads on a course maliciously extolled the beauty of an Italian girl down there. She existed only in his imagination. Many hours later Geoff
wearily plodded his way back to his bivouac. Quite a crowd gathered to hear his tale of woe and watch the steam rise as he took off his boots and socks.
It was at Horns that Geoff could not find his beret for rollcall parade the morning after a supply truck had arrived from Cairo with a useful supply of drink. It had been a good night! As an old soldier, Geoff appeared on parade wearing his steel helmet rather than no head gear. He somewhat spoilt the effect by leaving the parade early to lurch into the sea for a bathe.
On the 3rd September 1943 Italy signed an armistice, Mussolini having been replaced by Marshall Badoglio towards the end of July. The Germans, however, took over from their former allies so the invasion of
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i Italy continued. We embarked on tank landing craft on 12th September
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r and landed at Salerno on the 15th September.
C Squadron had the misfortune to lose two tank crew when the
landing craft they were on grounded with a bump. ; The shackles had been
cast off ready for driving ashore without delay. One tank moved
forward and crushed them against another. With hindsight, obviously
they should not have been standing between two tanks. One was Stanley
Skeels who was a middle weight boxer of some repute. This had not prevented Willie Dovey of our crew from dotting him one in an altercation during a brief recreational trip back in North Africa.
Our time in the Salerno bridgehead for the next few days was not eventful. The Warspite came close to shore and pounded German
positions twenty miles inland with 15" shells. These sounded like, and appeared to take as long as, express trains passing overhead. In the meantime there were plenty of apples, nuts, tomatoes, potatoes and grapes to supplement the rations.
On active service each tank was supplied with rations for the crew who then cooked and brewed up for themselves as a unit. In Italy our lap gunner was Jack Lovell, a butcher from Northampton. There was
an occasion when we had a pig to butcher. To us it seemed that Jack did a professional job but he 'was glad myoId man was not there to see how the job was botched'.
The official rations were brought up and distributed by Quartermaster Clay, inevitably known as 'J.C.' after the Somerset
cricketer. A most conscientious man, he had an elaborate points system
for sharing out in turn between the crews such luxuries as tinned fruit. His dealings with such as 'Bangle' Bowman were an ongoing source of
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amusement. Bangle would claim replacement of kit 'lost in action' and J.C. then patiently tried to pin down which 'action' was involved.
Bangle had joined the army on the same, day as Willie Dovey a few months before the war. They found themselves in France with the
B.E.F. but at eighteen were regarded as too young for tank crew and were posted to H.Q. The distinction was not very marked in the events leading to Dunkirk. They got away from France and by 1941 with the 5th
R.T.R. had joined the Seventh Armoured Brigade in Egypt. Early in 1943 Bangle rose to lance corporal but lost his stripe for refusing to give 'Bing' Coller's tank a tow, claiming unsuccessfully that his tank was not in a good enough condition. After the war someone counted up and
said that Bangle had been wounded on nine occasions. He was still with the 5th post-war, eventually becoming Regimental Sergeant Major.
Willie Dovey joined the regiment's reconnaissance group,
equipped with Bren carriers, for the Italian campaign. He served with
the 5th until the last month of the war. Then it was that Willie became a tank commander. "Getting a bit hard up for commanders", was Willie's characteristic Midland comment. After two days one of his own crew, trying out a captured German Meisser machine pistol, promptly shot
Willie in the backside. Probably the greatest indignity was the relish with which Bangle related the story.
To return to the Salerno bridgehead of September 1943, one
diversion was the punctual appearance daily at eleven in the morning of the German Foche-Wolf fighter bombers. Flying very low and fast they streaked across to drop their bombs. Just before eleven the tank
gunners would climb into the turret ready to try their luck with the
Browning .50 anti-aircraft heavy machine gun which was mounted on top of
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the turret (and could catch the unwary a fearful clout on the back of
the neck if unsecured when on the move). Generally the Foche-Wolf were too quick and the Spitfires on their tail were sprayed instead.
One guner,Bill Ruddock, had a German aircraft to his credit in North Africa but none was seen to crash from tank anti-aircraft fire over Salerno.
In Italy we had come under the command of the American army. General Mark Clark ambled into the 7th Armoured Division, twin silver
mounted pistols slung from his hips, and drawled: "Say, what outfit is
this?". Certainly we were short of information as to what was happening or supposed to be happening. Probably the biggest single factor in
morale had been Montgomery's insistence that commanding officers, after
receiving their briefing, should return to their units and tell everyone under their command what the position was and what we were going to do. With a commanding officer such as Colonel Hutton in North Africa it was surprising how much humour could be extracted from detailing the number of "88mm ere . . . anti-aircraft guns" there were facing us. Everyone knew that 88mm German dual purpose guns were very formidable anti-tank weapons.
In the Salerno bridgehead information dried up completely as far as we were concerned. There was a famous occasion when 'recce'
scout cars were dispatched to see what they could ascertain. They contacted American infantry 'holding the front line' but could see no sign of the enemy. They then drove seven miles down the road and still saw no Germans before they returned to report.
There were plenty of ripe tomatoes in the fields which made a welcome supplement to the tinned fatty bacon. Some mornings were very
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wet, though. 'Sunny Italy' was heard often and not in a complimentary sense. Gus Pearson, our wireless operator, stuck it out longest in his bivouac one morning. He was on a ridge in a plo~ghed field with water streaming down the furrows on either side, only inches from his bedroll.
On 26th September 1943 we moved beyond Salerno at last. By
the 28th we reached Scafati. Our troop of three tanks and some of the Queen's infantry managed to get across the river before the Germans
could blow the bridge. The Germans counter-attacked and a 'recce' crew, including Willie Dovey, had to abandon their Bren carrier in a hurry. They had advanced round the first corner down the street over the bridge and were hit by a Mark 3 German tank shell. Eric Wilde, our tank commander and troop leader, ventured on foot to' look round the corner and was beaten to the draw by a German doing the same thing from the other side. Captain Wilde had to be taken back with a head wound and George Onions, our driver, took over as tank commander with Jack 'Butch' Lovell moving across from lap gunner to driver.
Despite warnings, three war correspondents also decided to
have a look round the corner. They were A.B.Austin of the Daily Herald, Stewart Sale of Reuters and William Munday of the Australian Press and News Chronicle. All three were killed by a German tank shell.
Our troop of three tanks then negotiated the corner keeping to the left hand side. There was a short stretch to another corner. Originally our tank was second of the three but we had to pull round and become leading tank as a shell splinter had jammed the turret of the front runner. Although we did not know it at the time, there was not much possibility of retreat as the third tank at the rear had a flat battery and was not mobile.

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