大象传媒

An experience to remember
by Peter Mann
A Teenager at War
At the beginning of WW2 I was still at school but in 1941 started an engineering apprenticeship at the Borough of Hastings workshops, the main work involved maintenance of the huge engines pumping the towns water supply.

My dad was an air raid warden, this was an important job in the coastal towns that experienced hit and run raids. On my way to work there was often an air raid, which caused me to alter my route as I cycled along. For part of the way I cycled down into the underground promenade to avoid the Messerschmitt planes swooping overhead.

However in 1944 I was called up, I had wished to become a glider pilot, of course I did not know at that stage what would become of many of them at Arnhem. Fortunately there was more demand for infantry in the army at that time.

At the age of 18 years I found myself in Normandie as part of the invasion force. Soon I was in the battles through Normandie. Following the rout of the German army at the Falaise Gap, where the fleeing columns were mercilessly attacked by our aircraft we moved up to the river Seine for our next battle.

It was on the 19th August; it was planned to assault across the river. The 5th Wiltshire鈥檚 in the evening launched their assault boats, about 15 men to a boat, most of the occupants did not survive the attempt! The use of Ducks (amphibious craft) also were in trouble as they never lifted off the mud at the bank. The occupants were raked with gunfire from the opposite bank.

I became quite anxious as we were told it was up to our battalion to cross the river the following morning;over the ruins of the old bridge previously blown up. I spent the night in the porch of Vernon church by the river, no sleep and my thoughts raced in my head, would we get across? Would I survive? How would I cope? I had some comfort in that I was not alone in these thoughts.

The following morning a smoke screen was laid and we were clambering across the remains of the bridge with little trouble, until we reached Vernonnet across the river. It was here that our platoon was pinned down by a German Spandau machine gun. Several of our chaps were hit. Our stretcher-bearers holding red cross flags, bravely came to attend the wounded, sadly they were also victims of this machine gun. Hugging the ground and with bullets whistleing past my ears, I was probably terrified but the adrenalin was flowing, we had no choice but to continue.

Further along the road to Tilly we were in a fierce battle fighting off a counter attack. Major Grubb lying alongside of me in a wood had a bullet pass through his specially made helmet. Major Grubb was a colourful character; he had taken his companies men with automatic weapons up the hill to beat off the counter attack. On the road below, our Regiment sustained many casualties from advancing Tiger tanks, finally the enemy withdrew. In 1993 after the war Major Algy Grubb returned to Vernon as a guest of the mayor, he walked to this same spot described above then returned to his hotel and died.

There were 553 men of the 1st Battalion of the Worcesters who set out that morning from Vernon, for the attack scross the Seine. At the end of the day 26 were dead, a further 65 wounded. Casualties were even higher in the Wiltshire Regt.who attemted to cross the previous evening.

There was an interlude in the war for us as we rested in Pressagny L鈥橭rgueilleux, just along the river from Vernon. As members of the 43rd Wessex Division we wore a shoulder badge with a yellow dragon on it (actually a wyvern). We were amused by a captured newssheet, which referred to us as 鈥淵ellow Devils, men to be feared鈥�. Looking around at our young men it didn鈥檛 seem an apt description.

It was now September 16th when we journeyed through Holland, over bridges at Eindhoven and Nymegen to attempt to rescue the paratroopers at Arnhem; it definitely proved to be 'a bridge too far 鈥榓s the bridge despite heroic fighting by the paras was held by the Germans.

Near Arnhem we rested overnight at Zetten where there was a bakery, unfortunately the bread was not fully baked when we left that morning. We were marching down to the Rhine when to my delight a young girl on a cycle came bearing a large loaf, it was Yanny Yansen from the bakery.
It was on the banks of the Rhine that a solitary shell claimed the life of Captain Watkins, he was an inspiration to us all and we knew we would miss his leadership. Still only nineteen years old I was beginning to understand the mortality in active service.

These times were not without humour. One such time was when Pinky Gray, a member of our platoon. During an attack disappeared down a dugout in the Hergenbosch forest to relieve himself; he came out clutching his pants with 3 German soldiers following with hands held high!!

Another occasion was the capture of a German paymaster with a leather bag full of crisp new Dutch gilders; we shared them out, shuffled them to deceive the quartermaster but had nowhere to spend the ill-gotten gains.

There were difficult times as we approached the Siegfried line as the heavy guns of that fortified line were brought to bear on us. It was mid March 1945; there were heavy snowfalls; at a place called Tripstrath we faced a German occupied group of farm buildings called Konigshof. The platoon commander (Rex Fellows),the author and Johnny Ockmanof (a base player in Edmundo Ross鈥檚 band) wore white over suits and bound our weapons with white material and set off on patrol to find out the strength of the enemy. It was dark and we heard the stamping of feet and saw a German lookout nearby. He went back to the farm buildings whilst we continued across the open field. It was at this point when a rough notice read 鈥淎uchtung Minen鈥�. Only the frozen ground had prevented the mines from detonating. We made our way back.

At this same location each evening a horse drawn cart was heard taking rations to Konigshof despite our frequent shelling of the place. It was mid January and the sound of a tuber playing carols was heard from Konigshof, we almost felt like joining in with 鈥楽ilent Night鈥� when this sound drifted across the field.

We continued our advance throughout February and March onto German soil and finally crossing the Rhine on the 27th March. Resistance became less as we approached Bremen. Near to Cuxhaven some 20 miles from Bremen I contracted yellow jaundice, according to the label they tied on me this was due to sleeping in rat infested barns. I was resting on abed in what seemed to be a forester鈥檚 house; Arthur Brookes aged 19 sat at the foot of the bed. Suddenly one of our chaps burst into the room waving a German schmeiser gun that in his excitement fired, mortally wounding young Brookes. It was May 2nd 1945 just a few days before hostilities ceased. An accident, but a young life needlessly ended. We were all devastated at this sad episode after all we had been through since landing in Normandie.

I was evacuated by air to the UK on the day the fighting in Europe ended.

I am now 79 years old and have just (8thMay 2005) attended my Regimental reunion for the very first time. (1st Battalion of Worcestershire Regt.) Imagine meeting the few who were still alive after 60 years! This included Captain Rex Fellows my platoon commander and his batman Bill Palmer. I have yet to trace Ray Harmer who shared a slit trench with me through the entire campaign, although he did give me his photograph at that time, May 1945. It was finding this photograph recently that made me make enquiries from the Regt and put me in touch with some of the survivors of our platoon.
Peter Mann

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