大象传媒

My father was apprenticed to his father as a lighterman on the River Thames in Greenwich, a profession my family had followed for at least a hundred years and in an area we had lived in for 200year at least.

My grandfather was involved in moving ammunition barges over to the front during the first world war and so when my father decided to join up in 1939 at the age of 19 it would have been natural for him to have gone into the maritime service. He didn't he joined the army.

When he signed up he was promised a posting to the Middlesex or one of the Kentish regiments, when he arrived at the despatch depot he was presented with a travel warrant to Cornwall and told he was joining the Duke of Cornwall's Light infantry. A daunting journey for a young man whose longest journey hitherto had been the Kent coast.

He was told to get out at Bodmin for the barracks, unfortunately he was unaware there were 2 Bodmin stations and he went to the wrong one, by the time he had realised and got back to the barracks he was late and his time in the regiment started inauspiciously.

He said that when he joined there was only one or two other non-Cornish recruits and he came in for quite a bit of teasing, however he said it was light hearted and not vindictive, and he soon settled in and enjoyed his training and the social aspects.

The regiment went to France and were stationed near to the Maginot line, Dad was a company runner, he told several stories about his commanding officer, whose name sadly escapes me, it was more Welsh than Cornish I do remember, when Dad accompanied him on inspections tours, he was told to walk no more than a walking stick length ahead of the officer, if he went too far and too fast a smart rap between his shoulder blades would be administered to remind him.

When the regiment were pulled back to the north Dad become detached from the main body and joined a ragtag group led by a Sargeant, somewhere in northern France he rejoined the regiment.

During the delaying campaign to the east of Dunkirk he was involved in action along the canal systems including destroying fuel barges.

On the beach he was buried up to his neck by sand after a nearby explosion, and had to be dug out, the soldier he had been talking to died.

He waited a long time in the surf to be picked up by a naval vessel and was landed at Ramsgate. A mug of tea, a sandwich and a travel warrant later he was back in Greenwich where he stayed for a couple of weeks before reporting back to an army depot. He was put on guard duties at various government buildings around London for a while shortly after.

When the Commando's were formed he volunteered and was accepted into No3, he was on the botched first training raid on the Channel Islands and later the Lofoten Raid.

He died in 1992, was a gracious man who rarely talked about his wartime exploits, what I know was the result of some 35 years of occasional anecdotes usually while I was walking in the Kentish countryside with him.

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