大象传媒

On receiving my call up papers in 1942 aged 19, I was instructed to report to Lochmaben in Scotland, what a journey for a young lad on his first trip alone. On arrival we were given apptitude tests to determine where we were to be assigned. My test was to strip and reassemble a bicycle pump,which having successfully done, alloted me to be a tank crewman. Basic training was done at Barnard Castle and then a transfer was made to Bovington Camp, Dorset for more training and I was then made a tank driver. During training I had an intersting excursion, one day whilst under instruction, I had to negotiate a bend and I ended up removing the front corner of the local butchers.

Preparing for the invasion, I was allocated the role of crewman in a Sherman tank. One of the first tasks was to collect the tank from Surrey. We then had to set on and seal the tank for water. Invasion for me commenced at Southampton on D and I, having been billeted in a front garden of a house in Honeysuckle Road, Bassett for about a week. The old lady occupant offered us tea but only if we remained outside.

Eventually we emabarked onto our LST (Landing Ship Tank) and joined the convoy off the Isle of Wight. The crossing itself was delayed 2 days due to bad weather and it was during this time we accidentally struck an american hospital ship but no permanent damage was done.

Finally the Armada sailed and we landed on Gold Beach at Asnelles at about 7 am. The beach was littered with debris from the previous day, vehicles, tanks and many bodies.

Life inside a tank was very harsh, very hot, all the time spent with your other crew members. All functions had to be carried out inside and empty shell cases made temporary toilets. During any lull in fighting we had to overhaul and maintain our tank and grab any rest we could. The heat of the engines at least gave us a griddle for our fired eggs, if and when we obtained them.

The Normandy campaign ended in August '44 and at the same time I celebrated my 21st birthday. We pushed on into Holland and Belgium and it was in Holland that my own brush with death occured near Haaren. My squadron of tanks was in action to assist the infantry to clear a wood. At about 2pm 2 tanks were hit by an anti-tank gun (88mm). We were ordered to bail out, this we did and began to crawl back to our own lines. We noticed that our Commander was falling behind us, as he reached us we realised he was seriously wounded. Meanwhile in my haste to get back, I was guilty of giving away our position by rustling bushes. I was soon cuffed across the face to calm me down, fortunately all of us made it back to our camp.

I hope this gives a little insight into the world of the tankie. Fear Naught was the sign of the Regiment.

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