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Following the victory the Army crossed into Sicily and then into Southern Italy and this was the time when we were under orders to move into the 'heel' of Italy. We moved in a convoy of three ton trucks and with transporters for the equipment all the way across Algeria into Tunisia. A most pleasant journey through delightful scenery which had been a battlefield all the way. We eventually arrived at our embarkation point - Bizerte, Tunisia. It was the time for us to be apprehensive. Our ship, if ship is the right word, was a tank landing craft with a draught of about two feet. It was explained to us that if we were to be torpedoed the missile would pass right under us. It was quite a long sea journey from Bizerte across the toe of Italy into the enormous harbour of Taranto where there remained all the wrecks from the damage inflicted earlier in the war when the British Navy almost wiped out the larger vessels of the Italian Navy.
We disembarked and resumed our journey in our three ton trucks, En route to Molfetta, our terminus for the time being , we were cheered all the way by the local Italians, lately our enemies but now our allies.
I was parted here from the main body and went by car with an officer who was also making his way to Naples. Firstly we went north to Foggia, where we almost ran into German lines, and crossed over the Appenine range of mountains to Naples.
In Naples there was an epidemic of typhus amongst the locals and we were forbidden to go beyond the end of the road in which our barracks was situated. We passed our leisure time playing Solo in the Sergeants’ Mess. I found this quite lucrative as I did not need to draw any pay for the whole four weeks even though we were playing for small stakes.
When we were finally allowed out on the town we had extensive walks all along the very scenic coast road. Life there had more or less returned to normal and we would watch the fishermen landing their catch. What really disgusted us was the way the fishermen would tear open live crabs and eat the flesh raw. It was the same with octopus: they would tear off the suckers and eat them.
My ultimate boss in REME, in Italy, was Brigadier Broadhurst who needed to make secret and confidential reports to his boss, the General. He would not entrust this work to lower ranks and frequently I was required to find secure accommodation with a typewriter and the two of us would work unseemly hours producing his report. ' Broadie' was something of a lazy blighter so far as paper work was concerned and very often most of the report was knocked into shape by yours truly.
The Brigadier sent for me one day and told me that he was required to draw up an establishment for a Headquarters under Field Marshall Alexander to follow up the Army as they moved forward. Amongst the lower echelons of his Officer establishment was a personnel officer with the rank of Captain and he asked me if I would become an Officer and fill this vacancy. After thanking him I pointed out that as my first rank as an Officer would be as Lieutenant I would suffer loss of pay as being a Warrant Officer Class One my rate of pay was higher than Lieutenant. 'Broadie' promised me that he would promote me from Lieutenant to Captain after a short time. Thus I left the non-commissioned ranks and became an officer but not before I had been vetted by Major General Robertson, the Field Marshall's Chief of Staff.
All the junior ranks gave me a great send off when I first donned the uniform of officer during my last night in their Mess, and the following morning I moved into the Officer Quarters. All other ranks asked if they could be the first to salute me and shake my hand, which was nice of them. It was rather unusual to move up from Non-commissioned rank in the same formation.
My duties as Personnel Officer, basically, was to see that officers below the rank of Colonel were in the right place according to their experience and rank. In other words, to see that round pegs were in round holes and not the opposite. For noncommissioned ranks I was to deal with this as a policy matter only, dealing in numbers rather than individuals. London was asked to send out various REME trades by numbers. On arrival they would be sent to a holding centre from where they would be disbursed to units in line with their requirements. So that there would be no waste of manpower other ranks would be sent to Base Workshops where they could be used in their trades until posted to units with shortages.
Naturally, being so close, we took the opportunity to visit Pompeii, and what a wonderful experience that was. Although now (1994) much more has been dug out of the ash which covered Pompeii, back in 1943 there was much to see. The roads impressed me immensely. To see chariot tracks that had been worn in the solid rock over many centuries before Pompeii was overwhelmed in AD 73 was almost beyond comprehension. The tourist guides, even in 1943, knew all the juicy bits to show the troops, including the brothels- the beds would have been a bit hard - and even one chap who had two of you know what' When I took the family round Pompeii in 1959 we still had to avoid some parts although the guides tried to persuade us otherwise.
Whilst in Naples I managed a local leave with George Sharpe and we stayed in Sorrento in a rest hotel overlooking the very scenic coastline. Most of our time was spent relaxing and soaking up the sunshine but it was good to get away from Army cooking even if most of the food was provided by the Army.

It was in April 1943 whilst in Naples that Vesuvius decided to erupt. George Sharpe and I borrowed a jeep and planned one evening to get as close to the eruption as possible. Although the mountain had burst open when in eruption in AD73 and had buried Pompeii we thought it unlikely to occur this time. When half way up the mountain I was not so sure but we had struggled to get as close as possible. The lava flow was nothing like I had imagined. I thought it would be something like porridge can be when cooking; consistency like plastercine with bubbles pushing up all over the place. We went through a village that had been partially destroyed on to a road that wound its way up the mountain. After having climbed a couple of miles on a winding road we came to a stop because the lava crossed the road. From there we saw a river of lava burning way below us. The heat and smoke were terrific from where we were, about twenty yards from the lava stream. This was not what I had thought it would be but rather boulders as big as a house tumbling down the mountainside like a waterfall. The noise was terrific and in the crater everything was happening. Boulders were being flung into the air and went crashing down the mountainside. We decided to evacuate but when making our way to the jeep there were several minor eruptions very close to us so we decided to get away a little quicker than we had gone up. Some experience!
On the move again. This time to the royal palace at Caserta: a lovely building set in very extensive gardens with natural waterfalls falling from the surrounding mountains. It was here that I got my third pip and became a Captain as promised by Brigadier Broadhurst. It was here, also, that I learned to ride and six days a week I rose at six o'clock. I had no experience of riding beyond donkey rides on the seashore and our instructor, a Captain in the Veterinary Corps, insisted that we learn properly before being allowed out in the Palace gardens. The first couple of days were spent in doing nothing but getting on and off the horse. It was no use talking to the horses as they were captured German horses and I don't speak German. When I was passed out as fit to go out on my own or with colleagues we would, initially, trot for miles and only when really experienced did the horse and I canter or gallop.
I remember one occasion, when out riding with several others, I decided to show the horse who was the boss. We were cantering through a field with a hayrick. The others had all passed the hayrick on the left; I decided my horse would go to the right and induced him to go that way but he decided otherwise. With me pulling one way and the horse wanting to go the other what more natural than that we both finished up in the middle of the hayrick! On another occasion two of us out together brought our horses back to the stables with their mouths dripping red moisture, much to the alarm of the groom who brought out the Veterinary Officer, as he thought it was blood. It was only when we explained that, during a breathing space, we had fed the horses on grapes, was he satisfied and suggested we should not repeat that exercise.
With nothing else to do but work and horse ride my letters home did not have much to say and each day's letter was almost a carbon copy of the previous day.
Before this there was one part of my work which amused me but probably does not mean much to non-service people. I was a staff officer (Lieutenant at that time) on the staff of Field Marshall Alexander who insisted that the correspondence sent out by the Headquarters was signed on behalf of the Field Marshall. It amused me immensely to sign my letters as J.W. BOLLARD (LIEUT) on behalf of the Field Marshall. Some difference between ranks!

The next move forward behind the advancing armies was to Rome and by agreement with the Pope our Headquarters was to be in Rome for three months only. The Pope was concerned that the German air force may bomb the Italian capital. It was wonderful to be in Rome amongst some of the treasurers of the Western World.
Our Headquarters arranged a private audience with the Pope and whilst I am not a catholic I thought that, in the future, some of my friends and acquaintances who are Roman Catholics would be pleased to hear of the audience so I put down my name to attend. Thus I was introduced personally to Pope Pious X11, who gave each of us a medallion which he had blessed. Ultimately I gave this to a colleague in Bournemouth who was a Roman Catholic and she said it would be one of her most prized possessions.

Much of my spare time was spent seeing the sights of Rome and I remember standing on the balcony on which Mussolini had addressed his followers. Incidentally, the floor had been built up for him to stand on, thus giving the impression of height (which Mussolini did not have). I shall always be grateful that I was given the opportunity to see so much of Rome.
One particular palace was the Villa Torlonia in a suburb of Rome. This was a large estate which contained several villas. One had been occupied by Mussolini and his wife; another by his son-in-law, Count Ciano; and a third by the Dictator's mistress - Claretta Petacci (the one who was strung up with him later on in the war). When billets were being allocated George Sharp and I made a "bee line" for the Villa Torlonia. Claretta' s villa was still empty. George and I soon purloined it and established ourselves in her bedroom. What a bed: who was to occupy it? Well, George and I tossed for it and I won. I can assure 'my love' that Claretta had moved out! George had to put up with his camp bed alongside my masterpiece.
It was a most amazing room with en suite bathroom (without water) and I have several times wondered at the magnificence of the decorations because they were all to do with owls. The built-in wardrobes were surfaced with boxwood veneer on which were included owls with eyes pointing over the bed. The lounge suite tapestries were covered with owls. In the middle of the ceiling was suspended a chandelier on which were four owls, all with light bulbs in their eye sockets and with lights all focused on the bed. Everything was owls with one exception. Those old enough will remember Mussolini was always likened to a bullfrog due to his being short and the way he always pushed out his lower jaw. On the bedside cabinet by the side of Claretta' s bed was a bell, which connected through to Mussolini's villa. The bell push was designed in the shape of a bullfrog and I have kept that bell push, the only item I purloined during the war years.

Again it was time to follow the Armies north and we made our Headquarters in Sienna within easy motoring distance of Arrezzo and Florence, the latter city being next to Rome in its profusion of art treasures and buildings. The retreating Germans had blown up all the bridges across the river Arno in Florence with the exception of the Ponti Vechio, the very old bridge with tiny shops selling antiques all the way across. Assissi was also within easy distance of Sienna, the Monastery of St. Francis being set in a commanding position with marvelous views.

As I had been granted officer status 'in the field' I only had battle dress and had nothing in the way of dress uniform to wear at official functions or when out to dinner. One of my colleagues was due to fly over to Cairo on duty and I asked him if he would be good enough to purchase sufficient cloth for me to have a dress suit made up. This he willingly did and I found an Italian tailor who was persuaded to make a dress uniform for me. It became a bit of a joke amongst my colleagues as, on the way to the mess, we passed my suit growing on a tailors' dummy with a little bit more done every day.
Sienna is a lovely walled city with an unusual cathedral with the brickwork being alternate black and white marble blocks, both outside and inside.
Such progress had been made in the War that now the Armies were in Northern Italy our Headquarters could be amalgamated with others in Greece and Egypt and made into a Central Mediterranean Force HQ and I was posted back to Caserta to take up my appointment as Staff Captain together with a Major as my senior, responsible for the posting of REME officers throughout the Central Mediterranean area.
It was at this time that I was notified I had been, for the second time, Mentioned in Dispatches, the citations for which include the words of the Minister for War "I am charged to record His Majesty's high appreciation". Frankly, I don't know why I was 'Mentioned';, particularly twice, as I cannot think of any reason to suppose I had done other than my duty any more than anyone else. It was said that awards were given out with the rations!
I also recall staying in the Continental Hotel in Rome where as British Officers we did not pay for the accommodation but were required to pay 12 pence a day as an extra messing allowance to supplement the food which had to be supplied from Army sources.
With the defeat of the German armies in Europe the Government decided to release back in to civilian life those members of the Forces who had been in since the beginning of the War. This included me, of course, and I was able to look forward at last to a reunion with 'my love' and our daughter whom I had not seen for three years. Naturally, I was anxious to get out as soon as possible despite the fact that I had attained the rank of Major.
The day came when I was told to report to Milan on demobilization. Here I was given my railway ticket through to Aldershot via northern Italy and all the lovely scenic lakes and mountains of Switzerland. The Swiss were on to a good thing, they had an arrangement with British Government whereby they were paid the equivalent of £18 in gold for every serviceman passing through their country en route to UK.
On arrival in Aldershot I was fitted out in civilian clothes, given ration cards, and a railway ticket to my home town and Good bye, I was free!! The Army took 6 years and 3 months out of my life - September 1939 to November 1945 of which a total of 3 years and 8 months was spent abroad and away from my family. Millions of men (and women) were in a similar position together with millions killed, brought about by the follies of a madman - Adolf Hitler.

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