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I was attached to the Gordon Highlanders before leaving N Africa.

After 2/4 days we shipped out in USA ships (LCTS very friendly) to Pompeii into another camp, then after couple of days by the Royal Navy(LCTS very formal)to Anzio to land Jan 23/24th (D+1) climbing down nets from the ship into DUCKS and onto the beach, where they say that one of the beachmasters was Dennis Healey. We saw some bombing just along the beachhead, but we were put into the pinewoods, where overnight we were bombarded with hailstones the size of large marbles - had to wear tin hats to stop being injured.
There was me, a very junior 2nd Lt in charge of a platoon of 30 and didn't have a clue as to what was going on. We moved off for about 1/2 mile and were told that we were the reserve company. When we arrived, the other three companies in the battalion had been rounded up by tiger tanks, and we were the only ones left of the 6th Gordons. There were of course many other regiments as we were part of General Mark Clark's 5th Army, First British Division. Can't remember the Brigade. We marched to various locations, dug slit trenches which were flooded overnight, which didn't help very much, and to the tobacco factory where were suffered the odd shell and patrols against us, and if airplanes bombed us we guessed they were Yanks because they couldn't read maps. It was at this location that we heard an enemy patrol come in and thought that they had overrun one of my section posts, believe it or not, I took a small group to find out, we actually fixed bayonets and when we arrived we found that our machine gun had jammed and a very young German was shivering in a corner of one of the trenches. We took him back and when he was interrogated at Brigade HQ he gave all sorts of valuable info on what the Enemy was doing. After a week we went back to ‘B’ echelon and the Thunderbirds (USA Army Div) took over. It's amazing they had all the weapons in the world but didn't seem to know what to do. Anyway we marched back along the only road across the fields and I proved that I could go to sleep whilst marching, and at one time whilst resting at the side of the road. I was quite sure that I had left my body and was looking down on myself from above (hallucinations)? but I never reported it to anyone else. At one point just short of the flyover, a shell landed quite near and I saw pieces of shrapnel fly past where I was standing, they were white hot in the dark, and I was rather lucky that I was not in the way of any of this shrapnel. Meanwhile in ‘B’ echelon (that's where we went for a break from the front line). The whole beach head was within range of German guns, so we lived in dugouts, holes in the ground, covered over with more earth and branches, there were OK unless a direct hit. We had a visit from ENSA, I remember Hughie Green (or somebody of that ilk) with Opportunity Knocks. All officers had an issue of one bottle of scotch every month (normally Vat 69) and as the yanks didn't get any, we could exchange for a jeep at any time. Within 20 yards of my bunker there were about a dozen anti-personnel mines dropped by the Germans, they were about the size of a tin of beans and bright yellow; we didn't try to let them off. It must have been after several days that the shower brigade turned up - actual hot water. We also had our first supply of fresh bread sometime in March. Our rations until then were COMPO packs, each a wooden box for 12 men for one day. They included corned beef, beef stew, a mixture of tea, sugar and milk known as compo-tea, tinned cheese, biscuits, loo paper. Our cooking equipment was our own mess tins (two) and a mug. To heat up any food we had some instant Fuel in small rounds which we balanced on two bits of metal, with this we could make some kind of cake/bread by digging a hole in the side of our bunker and using it like a primitive oven. Water came in old jerry cans which had at one time held petrol, and they were never really satisfactorily cleaned, so the water always had a petrol flavour.

Later on we were issued with K Rations from the USA one pack per man per day which included 3 cigarettes. Our own cigarettes in packs of 50 always seemed to be from South Africa and were labelled C to C (Cape to Cairo) and or Victory V’s. During one ‘B’ echelon I heard that the Green Howard’s were relatively nearby, so off I went in a jeep, and was stopped just before I got to the front line, with a notice which read "Dust brings shells" and found that Jack had been wounded again and was in a hospital somewhere. Our last stint was a longer stay beside the Fly-over where we had trenches looking directly towards the enemy lines. Put your head over the top and a shot would ring out. I was in command of one day patrol along a gully with instructions to find out if it was occupied; after passing a couple of bodies and crawling around some trip wires which were meant to sent an explosive into the air, so as to kill more than one person, we came to some barbed-wire and I very cleverly climbed over, when I was fired at from about 10 yards along thus gully, the bullets missed me and killed the bloke behind, then came a couple of stick grenades, the ones with long throwing handles, which also missed me, so instead of being very brave and firing back, I threw a smoke grenade and got out over the wire rather quickly. I didn't have time to check on the bloke who was killed, and was told off later as I should have taken his name tag or something. For several years after I was married I would wake up in the night dreaming of that experience. We also were dug in beside the flyover in a small wood, and it was difficult to dig slit trenches, so all we could have were fox-holes. One direct hit on one of them killed two of my men. All told during that period from my platoon of 30 plus replacements, some 36 were killed or wounded, including some of those who were on the way to us as replacements. You could say that I was rather lucky, without a scratch. When the enemy withdrew, we advanced towards Rome; the smell from rotting bodies was something I'll never forget. We had to wait for the Yanks to go in first, for political reasons no doubt. It was fascinating walking past the Coliseum surrounded by locals cheering Viva Il Liberatori" and also _"Scotsaisi- niente pantaloni." I was billeted for a few days in the Excelsior Hotel on the Via Venuto. It was nice to hear a waiter say "How would you like your eggs" I was all of 20 years old and a virgin soldier and when I left Rome about a week later I wasn't. We then were taken South of Florence, eating peaches straight from the trees. I was then in charge of the Bren-gun -carrier platoon, and my own transport was a 250cc matchless motor bike, which scared me, as you couldn't hear anything coming (shells
etc) and advanced to Prada - lots of Vivas and flowers, but had to push on; came to a long road past fields sent my sergeant forward to recce with two other soldiers, they were nearly out of sight when they were shot at, two were killed and the sergeant came back wounded, but I can't remember what happened after that, other than we were the first infantry troops to enter Florence and cross a bailey bridge over the River Arno in June 1944.

end for the time being, more to come about Florence and after.

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