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15 October 2014
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Italy Part 8; To Rome and the North (iii)

by CSV Action Desk/´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Lincolnshire

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Contributed byÌý
CSV Action Desk/´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Lincolnshire
People in story:Ìý
Norman Elsdon
Location of story:Ìý
Italy
Background to story:Ìý
Army
Article ID:Ìý
A4518524
Contributed on:Ìý
22 July 2005

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.

As far as possible, we continued our patrol through the trees. Eventually, after much careful progress we made our way to the top of the hill which was our objective. Here we put look-outs, one of whom saw Germans on foot on the far slopes. By this time, rain had set in and the hillside was shrouded in mist. Just below the top of the far slope of the hill, we found some dugouts complete with rough beds. We were completely browned-off, wet and muddy by this time — we could only see a few feet, so we set to and made a brew in a can we found. If the enemy had come up to their positions, they would probably have been more surprised than we were. After another hour or so, we were recalled over the radio so we set off back, leaving behind a Yorkshire Evening Post as a memento of our visit. Eventually we arrived back, wet and weary, to find a meal ready prepared by a fellow who had stayed in. My car had had to go out during the day so I rigged up an extension to someone else’s bivvy as well as possible with gascape, etc., and bedded down. My driver eventually returned in the early hours, soaked through, his car having slipped down a muddy bank.

When we pulled out, our car had to go back to Arezzo into workshops to have the engine changed and a general overhaul. After about a fortnight, it was recalled and someone else took over as the troop was getting short of operations. Our line of advance was along a road that went through Bibbiena. When I arrived back at the squadron, they were high in the mountains at a monastery. It was continuously wet and misty. Our sleeping quarters were bare, cramped and rat infested — but dry. One day we were told to go off to do a wireless link. I remember I was in the throes of yellow jaundice (found that out later) and it took me all my time to stagger down with my bedding, etc., so I was quite relieved when the orders were cancelled. We then moved back to Poppi, where we stayed for a day or two before finally going back to the vicinity of Perugia, where I went into hospital. When I came out we were still in the same area at Cugiano and from there I went to Rome on leave.

Returning from Rome, I went back via Rimini to the front below Ravenna. We moved up next day. On the way up to our position, we were being shelled — one which landed some ten yards in front of us looked as if it had hit our other car but they came up smiling and all was well. We got through with only scratches and took up position in a shed beside a cottage. We dug trenches, which we manned from dusk until dawn. A German post was reported just down the road. However, no patrol came our way although one fellow’s nerves went and he reported someone moving about in some adjacent trees, which kept us on our toes.

We next moved over to a parallel road to set up a further post. A couple of our cars went forward to another house; the scout car opened fire as he said he had just been fired upon. I remember I was trying to take wireless messages, listen to my driver who was yelling up that the car wouldn’t start, and getting the guns sighted on the area suspected at the same time whilst, at the house, we were mortared but without damage. In the late afternoon we were relieved and we returned to our post. We then had to dig our positions for the night. Soon after we started digging, the shelling started. I can remember one ‘raw’ officer standing next to me diving into a heap of manure when he heard the swish. In between the shelling, we carried on digging. After finishing off one trench, we had one to dig at the foot of a haystack. It cheered us up considerably too during one period of shelling when we retired to the house; we saw a shell know the top off the haystack. However, we had another go. Hardly had we started again when- CRASH — a real beauty about five yards from us. There were bodies everywhere. Fortunately the ground was very soft. I remember my driver went to pick up an ‘old’ chunk of shrapnel about a foot long against his nose and found it to be red hot. We crouched in the trench for a while until things died down, then finished off the job. When we went back to the house, the shelling started again so we were told to split up and take cover in our cars. I just walked out the door when there was another ‘crash’ and we said goodbye to our other car. That was that; back into the house again. Nothing of interest happened during the night. Later, after we had left, the building in which we had slept between reliefs was hit and the occupant killed.

As the ‘rear areas’ were occupied by various headquarters, etc., we had to spend our ‘rest’ period within range of the enemy. I remember one day in particular; we were walking up the road and had a ‘spit and polish’ order for an inspection and we passed a car from another regiment firing away merrily. The evening the enemy pulled out of Ravenna, he lobbed all his spare shells over at us. Shells dropped around us and gave the house a good shaking but didn’t carry out one pessimist’s surmise that they would hit us eventually. Then came the news that we were to pack up and leave for Greece.

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