´óÏó´«Ã½

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by a volunteer from Lincolnshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Norman Elsdon and has been added to the site with his permission. Mr Elsdon fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

During our ‘rest’ in the fields in the vicinity of Vastogiradi, I rejoined my old troop. On their last spell in the line most of them had been either captured or killed, being ambushed whilst out on foot patrol. We then set out, making for Rome.

On the way I recall well the shattered ruin of Cassino. One realised what an incredibly difficult position it must have been for our men on which to make a direct assault. As we journeyed on, we passed sign after sign of the skill of the RAF — tanks knocked out, burnt out vehicles, shattered railway stations, derelict engines — all coordinating with the magnificent work of the army. Eventually, we leaguered some miles from Rome with the silhouette of St. Peter’s just appearing above the horizon.

Our stay in this area was short lived and we had a sudden order to move. At the end of the first day, we pulled off the road and spent the night among some olive groves. On again next morning through Narni and Todi; I am rather hazy about our journey at this time. I believe it was at Todi that we stayed a couple of days owing to a rather big bridging job needing to be completed by the Royal Engineers. When it was ready, we pushed on to Perugia. We brewed up in the main square, then pulled out into the suburbs and stayed the night in a large church or religious school; something of the sort anyway, there were priests all over the place!). Jerry was shelling ‘over the way’ with a heavy gun and at regular intervals shells came whistling over. The next morning, after a night on guard, we moved outside the town into the fields.

The following day we had to send out an infantry party and as I drew a low card, I was one of the ‘lucky’ ones. So off we set in our infantry vehicle. First of all we assembled at a point on the roadside awaiting further instructions. These came in the afternoon, so we moved forward to our starting point. We had to wait some time as the approach road to our position was under fire. While we were waiting, the CO came back in a very bad condition, his face an unhealthy grey colour. He had been shot through the lung while making a recce. So we went to see if it was possible to get across country; we could see across the fields to the hill we were to occupy and there were some tanks in that area around which the enemy was dropping shells. Eventually, it was decided that it was possible for us to proceed, with instructions to keep low as we passed the danger area. In his anxiety to get by, the driver put his vehicle in the ditch so we had to bale out and take up covering positions. However, he was able to get it out and we proceeded. As we neared our position, the shells came whistling over rather uncomfortably close.

When we dismounted, we were allotted positions and proceeded to dig-in for the night. I remember rather carelessly walking away from my trench whilst we were digging and a trigger-happy member of our section took a pot shot at me. In the morning, we moved to the region of a farmhouse to get our breakfast ready. We also dug trenches — fortunately. Soon after dawn, shelling started and lasted for about one and a half hours. Only one heavy gun but the Germans had it trained on our area and went round and round the little cluster of buildings. One big snag was that we were able to hear the report of the gun so that we were listening for it coming; we soon got used to the strength of the report and knew when it was firing on our position. Then came the scream of the shell, the crash as it landed and then the shower of dirt and the ping whistling of the shrapnel. Our bivvy was soon like a colander. One seemed to land right in one trench but when we called out, all was well. Then one landed unexpectedly; someone got a piece in the ankle, another a cut on the face. I don’t think the fellow in my trench moved from morn till night; he wouldn’t even put out his arm to reach the tea dixey. We couldn’t do without a brew — had to time it, then make a dash for water, etc. Just to cheer us up a bit it rained, so giving our trenches a pleasant layer of water. Periodically, up dashed the medical orderlies with stretcher; either ‘Wounded’ or ‘He’s had it’ were the replies to our queries as they went back with their burdens.

After four days and nights we were quite relieved to pull out and the sun was high in the sky before we awoke the day following our return to our troop. From there we moved further north, had sudden orders to move back and we leaguered alongside Lake Trasimeno. One night, a single enemy place broke our sleep by strafing the area. My recollections are, again, hazy hereabouts. We moved up towards Arezzo and had to do a patrol down a road to try and contact another unit. But we came to a blown up bridge, which was mined, and so our progress was impeded. We waited several hours until a bulldozer made a crossing possible, then went on to the next village. At night we leaguered as a troop responsible for its own protection. However, nothing happened and the following day we returned to the squadron. Whilst in rest, the enemy had an awkward habit of sending shells over our heads and dropping them a hundred yards or so beyond us. Fortunately, he did not shorten his range. Another patrol was of a ‘road blown’ variety. We met no opposition and eventually night came so we leaguered in the area of the last blow we had reached, then returned to the squadron in the morning. No excitement occurred in the routine about this time — not that we were keen on any occurring!

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.