大象传媒

When the front line was at El-Alamein, Egypt, we were operating hundreds of miles to the west in enemy territory.

My story is in an oasis called Hon, which is 7-800 miles to the west of Alamein. Our people had 鈥榯aken鈥� the oasis from the Italians, who had fled.

The patrol who had 鈥渨on鈥� the oasis had received orders to move out on another mission. One of their vehicles needed a repair that their own fitter couldn鈥檛 attend to then, as he was working on a different vehicle. As I was the only other fitter in the oasis, I was asked to help. While I was working on the vehicle my 鈥榖oss鈥�, Captain Philip Arnold, approached. Now 鈥淪kip鈥�, as I called him, had a fetish of using enemy transport instead of our own in these circumstances, to save using our own. If he found any, he would get me (as fitter) to see if they were road worthy.

He said to me, as he had many times before, 鈥淐ome with me Les to look at some trucks I鈥檝e seen鈥�. This was the usual request...

I replied that of course I would, but I must finish this job, as the patrol had had orders to move out.

He then said 鈥淣ever mind, I鈥檒l ask Harry鈥� Harry Gravil was one of our truck drivers and a good mate of mine. Off Skip and Harry went. Two minutes later there was a huge explosion. Their jeep had run over an anti-tank mine laid in the dirt track.

They were killed instantly.

The War Graves Commission has since removed their bodies from where we buried them in the oasis and they now rest in peace in a military cemetery in Tripoli.

Even now, I think every day is a bonus, because I should have died that day.

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