大象传媒

Preamble by his younger son, Paul

On his retirement from work Norman Smith wrote his life story. After his death his sons added to it with their mother鈥檚 story and the years that Norman and Irene enjoyed after retirement.

Norman鈥檚 experiences of war up to his arrival home following evacuation from Dunkirk have been documented in 鈥淒unkirk Memoirs of Sgt 7346129 Norman Smith RAMC鈥�. This article follows on from then until Norman鈥檚 demobilisation.

Norman was born on Christmas Day 1919, the son of an Old Contemptible. He died in 2001 after 61 years of happy marriage to Irene, who died just 15 months after Norman.

Norman鈥檚 War

[Norman was conveyed from Dunkirk back to the UK on board H.M.S. Vivaceous.]

After our ship docked the troops marched to the station where ladies, God bless them, gave us tea and sandwiches. Then it was on to trains for an unknown destination. There was only me and a cook from the Field Ambulance, wondering how our mates had fared. We later learned that three more had lost their lives.

The train journeyed through England, stopping for refreshments and giving out cards for us to notify our folks. My first card was to my darling Irene who I hoped to see soon. In the early hours of Sunday we arrived in Tenby, South Wales, and were taken by coach to Saundersfoot to be sorted out. A week later it was back to Tenby and then to Hereford to meet the rest of the Field Ambulance and help reform what was left of the 48th Division. From Hereford the unit moved to Wormelow Tump, 12 miles away, and at last got forty-eight hours leave. I called at my parents鈥� new home in Kingstanding, Birmingham and hurried to Irene鈥檚 home in Sutton Coldfield. I embraced her at last. She did not know I had leave, making the surprise complete. With the state of the war at that time life was very uncertain, but we decided to get married as soon as the Army would give me leave.

Back at the unit we moved first to Okehampton and then Bampton. I was granted special leave and on Saturday July 27th married the loveliest girl in the world at St. John鈥檚 Church, Perry Barr, Birmingham. We proved that our union had sustained when forty years later we stood in the same porch where our wedding photographs had been taken. [Norman and Irene celebrated their Diamond Anniversary in 2000.]

In August Irene left Birmingham to stay near me. During her first night in Bampton there was an invasion alarm and I had to wake her with the news. It was a startling sight for Irene to see wearing Battle Order. All kinds of vehicles had been requisitioned and we stood to ready to move for a week. It calmed down after a while and the unit moved again to Ivybridge. I was later posted to Totnes into H.Q. Company, in charge of a small hospital dealing with minor sick. Irene got a room nearby, and as I could officially sleep out we could share a lot of time together.

Being lucky in the draw I got Christmas leave, and we arrived back in Birmingham just as the Air Raid Warning sounded. Life was so very different to Devon. The anti-aircraft guns kept banging away but the planes flew over to bomb Liverpool. This was to be our last Christmas together until 1946 so we enjoyed it, staying with our parents in turn for dinner.

Life in Totnes settled down to a regimental routine for a month or two, and we soon moved to Newton Abbot. Irene went back to Birmingham as she was expecting our first son, Roger. She rented a flat to set up our first home in Hamstead Road, Handsworth. It was very lonely for Irene and I know she had a rough time. Going down the shelters to sit among strangers wasn鈥檛 pleasant. She said no one was friendly.

In September 1941 I was on a big military exercise on Bodmin Moor. We were out for three weeks. Moving about in lorries, we had no post but when I got back to billets, a telegram awaited me giving the wonderful news that Roger was born. Given special leave, I arrived home the next day and saw my son, relieved also that Irene was O.K. I was delighted with my family - a new era of life had started.

1941 to 1944

Life settled down to a pattern of soldiering and leaves. The war was going gloomily at first with Britain and her allies losing ground everywhere. The tide turned in October 1942.

All this time my Field Ambulance trained hard with Infantry Divisions and we marched for miles - thirty miles in a day once a week at least. Cross-country runs added to a tough routine to make the Army the fittest and most trained ever to leave our shores. All over Britain mock battles were fought with thousands of men at a time. We stayed for days in all kinds of weather and conditions, travelling in lorries and setting up Dressing Stations where ordered. Then stretcher bearing mock casualties over very difficult ground. Every man in our unit had to be 鈥淎鈥� Fit. Lower category men were soon weeded out.

The Field Ambulance left Devon for Lincolnshire. Setting up a new home became routine. Irene visited me whenever possible, Roger staying with my Mother - although he occasionally came too. All the time there was a possibility of being posted to units going overseas. Every week about a dozen men got an hour鈥檚 notice to pack up and depart, finishing up in all quarters of the world. Replacements came from the Depot and joined us in tough battle training, our ages ranging from 18 to 42. I was sent on three courses: for Senior N.C.O.鈥檚; a Mines course with Royal Engineers; and a course to bring me up to date with blood transfusions.

Then in 1943 came the big change. The Field Ambulance was split into two small units, total strength 90 each called Field Dressing Stations, the spare men posted away. I was now in charge of B section 22 Field Dressing Station (F.D.S.) and from that day on there was no further posting we became more settled. We moved to Morpeth to become part of 15th Scottish Division, changing hats for Tam o鈥� Shanters. I was now a Jock.

I had two weeks training at Newcastle Royal Infirmary. Irene came to stay for a week with me. She had a very hard journey to get there but had to leave after a day because the F.D.S. was moved suddenly to Ilkley in Yorkshire. She visited me twice in Ilkley, the last time just before the unit was moved to the south coast to prepare for the invasion. Events were now moving fast. Our pattern of life was going to change again. Practically all the forces in Britain moved to the South in huge convoys. It was a tremendous operation and I arrived at Poynings near Brighton.

Normandy

Our training around Brighton was intense, marching around carrying all our kit on our backs, plus about 30lbs of medical kit. We poured with sweat in the sun. It was annoying to see Italian Prisoners of War travelling in trucks.

Then the news of D-Day came and we were taken to Haywards Heath and locked in a camp. I was in charge of the marching party of our unit as the rest had gone with the vehicles to Tilbury. We were taken to Newhaven, loaded on to an American Infantry Landing Craft that sailed to Normandy, arriving at dawn on the twelfth of June. We had to wade up to our necks to land at Courseilles, and it was perishing cold. We were back to finish the job ... a nostalgic moment for us Dunkirk Wallahs.

After marching inland for some miles we settled down to wait for our vehicles. A small dressing station was set up to deal with other troops who were pouring ashore. During the day it was quiet because of the air supremacy, but at night it was bedlam because the Germans raided the bridgehead without respite. It was a real firework display.

Our unit waited until the transport arrived, and then moved forward to the perimeter of the allied forces penetration. Things were stalemated for days, both sides building up for the terrible battles to come when the British and Canadians would launch a big attack to break through the German defences. Our F.D.S. moved to a wooded area and set up under camouflage. We were right on the Infantry start line.

After a most terrifying barrage, shells coming over our heads for two hours, the troops moved forward. The wounded soon came back in large numbers. At the forward F.D.S. we dealt only with the most severely wounded who could not be moved at once. All our training was rewarded when we treated these men with blood transfusions and antibiotics, so making them fit enough to be evacuated down the line. They would not have survived four years earlier. Minor wounded were treated by a Field Ambulance in the next field and sent back to the coast direct. Emergency operations were carried out in Casualty Clearing Stations just behind us. Everyone in the area was in shellfire range from the enemy and strictly ordered into slit trenches unless on duty. I am proud that many men survived the war and were less incapacitated through the work of the R.A.M.C. We had learned a lot by 1944.

After two months of slogging through battle after battle we eventually broke through and the Germans started to retire over the Seine. I was in most sectors from Caen to Caumont. The Americans held the line from there. I saw many wounded of all nationalities including German forces, and everyone was treated the same. The saddest part was seeing the temporary cemeteries fill up so quickly.

It was quiet for a day or two; strange not to hear the guns, and then on to the Seine west of Paris we went.

Seine to Holland

You will have read how our forces raced to Brussels and Antwerp, but the 15th Scottish Division made slower progress mopping up enemy groups left behind.

On the banks of the Seine we had a Dressing Station and dealt with all sorts of casualties. For a short time German wounded were in the majority. Captured medics helped us with their comrades.

After ferrying over the river we drove towards Belgium passing near to our 1940 billets. Crossing the border we moved to the Albert canal and took part in the fighting there. One Belgian town was full of mental hospitals. Patients were running about terrified during shelling and bombing periods, poor devils.

Then came the huge armadas of planes overhead - the airborne invasion had started. Although the Maas and Nijmegen bridges had been taken, fighting was still going on in Arnhem. You all know the history of 鈥渁 bridge too far鈥�. However my unit raced over the border and set up in Veldhoven, near the Eindhoven.

Holland

We were now going to have months of battles of attrition, the chances of an early end having faded after Arnhem. Our unit moved to Helmond and by September it was in the middle of a long salient which had a front line to the West at Venlo and another front to the east at Best facing Tilburg. We had detachments at both of these places; I served in each of them at times. Then came the battle for Tilburg in October. I never knew what affect this was going to have for the future of my family.

However, the attack started from Best, and the Germans left the town. We entered Tilburg to great cheering and stayed for a few hours in the barracks that the Germans had just left. Strange that it was near to Akkerstraat [where his future daughter-in-law鈥檚 family lived].

Soon came news that the Germans had launched a big attack from Venlo, so the 15th Scottish Division was rushed back to stem it. There were some nasty moments but the fronts were stabilised again and we settled until Christmas when the Ardennes offensive started. The war was going to last longer than we had thought. Still, I was lucky to get a week鈥檚 leave in England and it was heavenly to see Irene and Roger again.

On return we were sent to Tilburg, this time to civvy billets. I was lucky to share a room with Don Thompson in the house of Luce and Kees den Ouden. What a momentous moment this turned out to be. Little did I realise that as a result of the friendship developing with Luce and Husband Kees I would be having a very welcome Dutch daughter-in-law, Darling Martie.

Into Germany

In February I was sent with a section of the F.D.S. to Nijmegen, from where an attack was launched towards Cleve in Germany. After reaching the small town of Krananberg and setting up yet another Dressing Station we were cut off by floods. The wounded had to be ferried back to Nijmegen on amphibian vehicles. From Cleve the battles raged to Goch, and the Division was returned to Tilburg afterwards to prepare to cross the Rhine. So I stayed with Luce and Kees two more weeks.

Then came the big Rhine crossing and soon I was on the way to Munster, but I never got there. After following the airborne forces and helping in their battles our unit halted by the side of a river. Setting up station in a wool factory we soon had scores of wounded, including women and children to treat. Then I was given notice that I was off to the Far East and sent home on leave. This was disappointing to Irene and me but I got 28 days leave before going away again.

I was home for V.E. Day, celebrating in the pub and street little knowing that I had lost my Brother Alf. I was on a Draft going to India when the telegram arrived. It was an awful shock to learn that he had died in India on May 6th, of cholera.

Egypt

I was given compassionate leave and returned to the Depot to find that my demob group 26 meant that I should not now go to the Far East but to Egypt, travelling on the troopship Ranchi for seven days. Docking in Alexandria I went by train to a camp just outside Cairo and stayed for a week there before being posted to the 13th General Hospital at Suez. This was a huge affair, mainly of tents dug into the ground and dispersed against bomb attacks. All nationalities were treated, all kinds of operations carried out, and naturally every tropical disease was dealt with.

I was promoted to Staff Sergeant and put in charge of the West African 400-bed section. Soon I was learning Arabic and Swahili to cope with my every day work. The Sergeants鈥� Mess was now on a peacetime basis with formal dinners at times, which soon run away with any spare cash you had.

The hospital was very busy catering for soldiers from Palestine and right along the coast to Libya. Also, every patient sent home had to go through our hospital, even if they came from Iran, Iraq or Ceylon. We were a vast sorting house. Hospital ships would unload and we would treat the patients for a few days, sort out the country to which they belonged and then on to hospital trains they went, mainly to Port Said. All this involved tremendous organisation and hard work. When convoys arrived it was a case of all off-duty staff reporting for stretcher bearing.

We celebrated V.J. DAY and began to count the hours to our demob. It was going to be sometime yet. In October I was promoted to Warrant Officer Class 2, but had to take over as Regimental Sergeant for a few months. If I had signed on to become a Regular soldier I would have that rank and pay, but I was longing for home. Families were not brought out for a few years, so I took the right decision.

Now I was busier than ever with a twenty-four hour job coping with all kinds of problems. My responsibilities were endless and I soon learned to delegate. We had to look after P.O.Ws being repatriated from Japanese prison camps, as they stayed in port for two days and were medically inspected and treated by us.

Christmas came, along with my replacement, and it was only days before I left to start my journey home. It was a long journey staying at different camps, but we eventually sailed to Toulon in France, arriving towards the end of January. After staying there for two days we got on the train to Dieppe. Two nights spent on wooden seats in an unlit train with broken windows, travelling through snow-covered France is no luxury. We were frozen when we got to Dieppe. Then another wait because of stormy seas, but eventually we sailed to Newhaven, arriving late afternoon. We spent the night in Reading, then on to Hereford to be finally demobbed.

It was too late for a direct train to Birmingham, so I went North to Crewe and travelled to Birmingham with the fish train from Grimsby. In the early hours of the morning I arrived at our new home in Lozells, Birmingham, walked to the house displaying a huge sign showing 鈥淲ELCOME HOME NORMAN鈥�, and Irene opened the door.

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