´óÏó´«Ã½

This story was submitted to the People’s War site by a volunteer from Swindon College on behalf of Fred Bailey and has been added to the site with her permission. Fred fully understands the site’s terms and conditions.

Early in the new year of 1945 the 1st Battalion of the King’s Royal Rifle Corps were holding the Winter Line north of Ravenna. As the recent heavy snowfalls were making vehicle movement impossible, we were operating purely as an infantry unit. I was at the time a section commander in 4 platoon, A Company, and we were occupying a farmhouse known as North Allegri that had been turned into a defensive position.

One night we were attacked by a German fighting patrol of about 55 men, who quickly surrounded the position. Being a defensive position we were connected by filed telephone to Company Headquarters, and by this means we called for the fixed lines supporting machine gun fire from the other platoons in the company. The attack followed the usual pattern of exchanges of small arms fire and grenades for about 20 mins, with I am glad to say no serious casualties on our side.

Unfortunately when our ‘Guvnor’ Lt Ian Askew was asking for fixed line fire, a visiting ‘Top Brass’ arrived at Coy H. Q. and throughout the attack wanted to know everything that was going on. After the attack, when all was quiet, he wanted a recce patrol sent out to see what the Germans were up to.

At the Coy H.Q. it was explained to him that having attacked a house or building, the Germans had a habit of breaking off the attack, but staying in position until the defenders, thinking they had withdrawn or had been beaten off, would after an hour or so post the usual sentries, with the remainder getting what sleep they could. The Germans would then fire bazookas at the corners of the building, to bring the upper floor down on the sleeping occupants, and attacking during the ensuing confusion. Pointing out that if this was the intention of this particular group, to send out a patrol would be sending them to almost certain death or capture, and it would be better to remain on full alert until daybreak, obviously firing at any sound or movement. Despite this the top brass insisted that a recce patrol be sent out immediately.

The ‘Guvnor’ called the section commanders together to explain the situation. After we had stopped raving about the stupidity of this order, I said I could not face going out alone, and if I could get a volunteer to go with me, I would give it a try. I thought that the smaller the threat to the Germans, the more chance we had of surviving. Having explained the job to be done and the risks involved, Rfn Lew Lewis, the section’s usual driver volunteered. I briefed him telling him to stay about ten paces behind me and ‘do as I do’.

We both dressed in snowsuits, monk-like garments with wide sleeves, very loose around the body, and a cowl for the head. This was winter in Northern Italy with a foot of snow on the ground. We were now not very happy but ready to go, not more than 10 mins after the last shots of the attack.
We unbarred the door and threw it open, diving back into the adjacent rooms because we expected bursts of machine gun fire and stick grenades to come streaming through the wide open door. Nothing happened so we shot through the door to lay one either side of the door. Nothing happened.

Although it was the middle of the night, visibility was very good as artificial moonlight was provided by our searchlights shining on the clouds. Not being fired on and not hearing any movement of any sort, I told Lew that we had a chance, as the Germans probably wanted us as prisoners. We circled the farmhouse without any problems and set off up the track towards the German lines about 200 yards away. Having walked without attempting to take any cover of any sort for 150 yards, hearing no more than pour own footsteps, I jumped through the gap between the vines of a vineyard. Followed by Lew we crawled on our bellies to a position in the middle of the filed, between the vines and about 60 yards from the German’s forward post, with Lew about 8 yards behind me. We lay looking and seeing nothing, listening and hearing nothing for about 20 mins. With an overwhelming sense of relief that grew stronger by the minute, I thought we had got away with it and that there was no one there.

I decided to go back and whereas our approach to our present position had been fatalistically bold, the longing to, get back demanded extreme caution. Very carefully and without making any noise, I drew up my legs and started to ride to my feet, when to my horror ‘a pair of hands’ gripped me around the waist preventing me from rising. I knelt there petrified waiting for some German command, nothing was said and trembling I lowered myself back to the ground. I then risked another glance over my shoulder, looking first to one side and then the other, but there was nobody there at all. I looked back at Lew and could just make out his shape lying motionless — was he dead or unconscious? I did not know, and I was frightened. I tried again to stand up, and again those ghostly hands gripped me. I literally froze with fear and then dropped witless to the ground. I could not see anything but something was there holding me fast to the ground.

I lay there for several minutes trying to unscramble my wits and then very slowly trying to look in all directions at the same time. I again tried to rise to my feet and found that the front of my snowsuit had frozen to the ground and when trying to rise to my feet, I was crawling up the tube of material! The action of straightening my legs was taking up the spare material and the more I pushed, the tighter the grip on my waist, but due to the numbness of my legs because of the cold, this had not registered. We made our way back to the platoon without incident reporting nothing seen or heard and were given a mug of cocoa with a very large tot of rum in it and spent the next hour trying to stop my knee caps and every muscle in my body from shaking uncontrollably.

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