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This story was added to the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People's War website by Helen Jubb, ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Leeds on behalf of the contributor, with his permission.

I was born May 1923 at Village St, Combs, Northeast, Scotland, went to school at village Brimmond. Father died when I was 3 years old. Mother had to live on 7 shillings a week, so I had to leave school at 13 years old, to work on a farm at 7 shillings and six pence, but the farmer sometimes didn’t pay us.

I met a chap and he said, ‘do you see that wooden hut in that field?’ If we went in there he would give us one shilling. I was fifteen years old at the time, late 1937. I went in. they said, ‘How old are you?’ I fibbed and said 17 years old. I got a shilling. I was in the Territorial Army.

War started 3rd September. I got my papers that day. I was 16 years old. Report to a school in Aberdeen. I was now in the Gordon Highlanders, marching on parade. But then the M.o.D. knew the B of B was going to start, I was transferred to 398 RA. Fortunately we had three months grace to learn how to use searchlights and machine guns. B of B started July 1940. PS. I won’t write any more now.

After 18 months, the A.T.S. took over. Then I was transferred to the Royal Army Service. The so-called ‘experts,’ interviewed me. What did I do before the war? My answer: worked on a farm. He thought all farms had a tractor. I did play with one when I was a boy. Those ones with big steel wheels. He put me in an old lorry. ‘Drive,’ he said. I put it in first gear and second. He said, ‘You can drive.’ I couldn’t, I was supposed to learn others.

When we had enough, so called drivers, we now joined a new Company. 147 Company Bridges, A, B, C, D, and Z Platoon. We were Z. we had to carry flat canvas to take across water and also make a bridge. D-Day came along, and we were on a boat for 3 weeks, but landed a while after because it was too busy. Eventually landing in Normandy. Belgium, Holland, Germany and Belsen. In the middle of April before I got there I saw what I thought was frost. I spent three weeks there spraying people with DDT I am not going to write anymore because I’m missing out a lot.

Copy of letter to my Mother:

10th May 1945

Dear Mrs Strachan,

Now that V.E. Day is here, I feel such tremendous relief, such satisfaction at a difficult job well done, and above all, such unbounded gratitude and pride towards every man under my command, that I have an overwhelming desire to write to you as the nearest relative of Mr Peter Strachan, R.A.S.C. and tell you something of the difficulties and achievements, which he, and all of us in the Company have shared together from the day we set foot on the beaches of Normandy, almost eleven months ago.

I wish to do this so much because, although recognition and praise for the considerable and successful efforts of the Company have been bestowed on us by the Official Army Authorities, I know how reticent and modest the majority of my men are, that I am desirous that you, particularly should be made aware of the worthiness and value of his efforts during this death struggle for survival and freedom of our country.

This Company has worked both for the 2nd British Army and the 1st Canadian Army, separately and simultaneously, and has been constantly employed to the right place at the right time to the right people. Under difficult and adverse circumstances this task is a formidable one and to carry it out successfully, time after time, week after week in respect of a long sequence of bridging operations has required an almost superhuman effort on the part of every Officer and man of the Company. With considerable pride I am able to tell you that not once has this unit failed or been negligent in the performance of its innumerable commitments.

This proud record of achievement is due to the untiring and contentious work of every individual of the Company and to the splendid teamwork of every Platoon. To mention a few of the operations carried out I refer to the crossing of the R. Seine at Elbeuf and Rouen, the assault on Entwerp and the ‘Schelde Pocket,’ S. Beveland and Walcheren Islands, the crossings of the Rhine at Emmerich and the storming of Arnhem across the Neder Rija.

The Seine bridges involved night and day driving for almost a week, without rest or sleep in oppressively hot weather. Bridging operations in Germany again involved continuous driving, without sleep for many days and nights, so often under shellfire. The build up and maintenance of a colossal Bridging Stores Dump at Nijnegen necessitated working and living under appalling conditions in snow, frost and rain and undertaking very long journeys on ice bound roads.

We have not only carried out the tasks expected of us, but we have voluntarily undertaken additional work and incurred extra responsibilities so that we have attained success and recognition well beyond that of the normal R.A.S.C unit.

To have a number of formations each requesting our services for their bridging operations is an indication of the Company’s high degree of efficiency. All ranks have viewed with justifiable pride the display by Higher Authority of the Company’s Serial, on bridges over the Rhine and have noted with keen satisfaction the Company’s ‘honourable mention,’ in May 6th’s edition of the ‘Daily Mail.’

I am proud that this achievement and this success has resulted from such willing individual efforts and that such grand teamwork, Company pride and loyalty exist, and this letter will have achieved its object if my pride in his work and devotion is shared by you, too.

So always let the toast be ‘147 Bridge Coy. R.A.S.C.

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