大象传媒

INTRODUCTION

Raw recruit to Red Beret

I was born in 1920 immediately at the close of World War One. In keeping with all others of this age group we were destined to experience the depression of the 1920s and early 1930s. We were robbed of our youth in the later 1930s when we either volunteered or were conscripted into one of H.M Forces at the outbreak of World War Two. No small wonder we were ready to defend our freedom to live in Peace and Harmony, and eventual prosperity, it had been denied our parents.

These in between years of the early 1920s were very sad years. There was still widespread mourning for the terrible losses in World War One, the realization that it was the end of an era. Some of my earliest memories were of some of the ex soldiers applauded a short time before now many of them seemingly on the scrap heap. They were begging in the streets. Forming a small band, some sitting on the pavements with a few coloured chalks creating pictures on the paving stones. These were often ashamedly the wounded.

Remembrance Day was always at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. Everybody wore a poppy. We all stopped for a two minute silence. It was a true silence. Everything stopped. No movement at all, just an all pervading silence. There were so many widows, so many single women, and grieving mothers, and so few young men. People grieved openly in the streets their distress so overwhelming. As a child I always felt the enormity of it even though I didn鈥檛 fully understand. My father had served with H.M Royal Marines and been demobbed in 1919. He then suffered the vicissitudes of the times as did so many others, I remember the general strike in 1926. I was six years old and saw people taking an old pram to their coal yard and buying coal in small quantities. I left school in 1934 and was apprenticed to a large firm of wholesale and retail butchering. It was here I learnt the aspects of thriving competitive market. It was from now on that times started to improve, it must have been quite a body blow for my parents generation to know we were once more to be embroiled in war, not our own making.

My enlistment papers were posted to me and informed me where my nearest recruiting office was and the opening hours. I was medically examined and pronounced A1. I was then interviewed regarding my qualifications, and abilities. My ability to drive was a great advantage in those days. The army was short of experienced drivers of my age group. I was recruited into the R.A.S.C Royal Army Service Corps ( logistics these days). I was told to await further instructions. In due course I received by post a free single railway warrant with instructions to proceed to Carter Barracks Bulford, where I should receive my initial training. I caught my local train on time and entered a carriage with only one occupant. It was strange to find he too was of my age, and bound for the identical destination. He told me his name was Jeff. He had been fully employed and I realized he came from a secure home background. We were now to mix with a completely new set of companions and looked forward to broadening our horizons.

We arrived at our destination and were met by a driver with a three ton Bedford lorry. 25 of us had converged here for the barracks. When we arrived I had the impression of intense activity and Spartan efficiency. The sergeant in charge said 鈥淗ere are another five. There are thirty of you now, the correct number for a platoon. You are now all in Platoon A. The corporal is in charge under my jurisdiction. Whatever you need to know approach him and he will advise you or refer to me鈥�. We were then allocated sleeping arrangements in a dormitory which we shared each in individual bunks.

This was known as our barrack room. The corporal in charge also shared the accommodation and was responsible for our tidiness and cleanliness at all times and also that good behaviour was maintained. He in turn made us responsible.

We were shown where the Notice Board was and were told it was not only to be looked at each day but at frequent intervals during the day. Ignorance was not an excuse for not knowing the latest orders. The timetable on the Board showed the day laid out with clocklike precision, from Reveille to lights out.

At the appropriate time we made our way to the mess helping ourselves to cutlery and a plate. We sat at table holding ten places. Two different men were appointed orderlies in turn each day. They were responsible for fetching the ration of food in steel containers from the service table and apportioning it between us, serving them selves last. We had ample portions including a dessert. Checking our daily orders we saw that we were due to attend the parade to the quartermasters stores from where we should receive our uniforms. We assembled outside and were marched smartly there. This was a revelation to some. We could hear them talking. They had never experienced such apparent affluence . Many had not been employed and many had come from very poor families also unemployed. They were under clad and undernourished. We were now issued with our kit. One greatcoat, 2 forage caps, 2 battle dress tops, 2 battle dress trouser, 2 sets of overalls (fatigues) top and bottom, 1 V neck worsted pullover, 3 collarless shirts pulled over the heads, 3 pairs of worsted socks, 3 sets of white underpants. P.T kit and P.T shoes were also included. The ruling was the P.T shoes were worn in Barracks at all times. I understood why when I saw the boots. We had two pairs and they were of heavy black leather the soles being heavily studded and the heels being protected with steel caps, horse shoe shaped. The toes were also capped to save wear. One pair of boots we saved for Parade only, and the others were our work boots and were dubbined to preserve the leather. Our parade boots were highly polished at all times and we were most successful with our spit and polish acquiring a finish like patent leather. The discipline we were to undergo posed no problems for me as I had been apprenticed for the past five years to learn all I could about the Pork Butchering Trade, as my family had for several generations past. I had competed with mature men in the workplace, cycled five miles to work each morning to arrive at the workplace by 05.45 hours ready to start work at 06.00hours changed and ready. There was no excuse for being late, even when it snowed I was expected to carry my bike over bad patches and still be on time.

We had constant Drill Parades which I enjoyed. I found these stimulating as they required constant concentration. I was very intrigued with the Drill Commands which gave the ability to move so many men so quickly and efficiently. I gave it my close attention.
We were now issued with our gaiters, kit bag, large and small pack, hand towels, shoe cleaning brushes, a button stick to use to protect our clothing or brass insignia. It was now excitingly time to try on our uniforms. We all laughed at ourselves and each other as some of us put on our gaiters upside down, but even when dressed we looked like the awkward squad. We were of course. We found there was more to wearing a uniform than we had imagined. We parcelled our civilian clothing into neat parcels with brown paper and string provided and they were posted for us, we having addressed them to our home address. We were now a uniform group. We all looked alike. From now on we should be judged on the image we portrayed. How well we carried ourselves, conducted ourselves and generally cared for our appearance. We should now transform our image from a faceless army number into an alert well-trained soldier.

The following day must have been a Saturday because we were given a Dental inspection and received our inoculations against T.A.B. , T.T, and vaccinations against Small Pox. They were all on the same day. We were then given 24 hours excused duty. We were then due for parade.
The Sergeant addressed me beforehand and said 鈥淵ou are No 1 Marker today. When the C.S.M calls out Right Markers march up to him and face him as close as possible. On parade he called out 鈥淩IGHT MARKERS鈥� I did as he instructed. The C.S.M then said 鈥淒ress forward鈥�. I shuffled a little nearer and discovered he had a bristling wax moustache and I could see right up his nostrils and feeling decidedly woozy I swayed a little. He said gruffly 鈥淎re you alright鈥� Are you all right I replied 鈥淵es Sir鈥� 鈥淲ell you certainly don鈥檛 look it鈥� His next order was 鈥淩ight Markers Number鈥� I called out 鈥淥ne鈥� and the others called out their numbers accordingly. He then said 鈥淣umber One Stand Fast, remainder about turn. Ten paces close column distance, by the front quick march. Each man then turned to face the marker. After this the C.S.M would call 鈥淕et on Parade鈥�. The platoons then surged forward and joined their own Right Marker. Each Platoon Sergeant would then dress off his men in correct order. This parade was held each morning a 08.00 hours and each Platoon inspected by the Officer of the day. The Officer would then say 鈥淐ompany to your Duties Dismiss鈥�. The whole company would then turn sharply to the right and march from the Parade Ground, each to his allotted duties.

We were issued with Ammunition Pouches Webbing and a Rifle. The Rifle being at this stage an American P13 model. With tangent backsight using 300 ammunition. The British Lee Enfield however fired 303 ammunition. We were only issued with 10 rounds of 300 which we had to produce day after day. When Guard Duties were allocated to us we patrolled as a double picket in a two hour patrol using pickaxe handles in lieu of a rifle as a means of self defence. They can be quite a formidable weapon used skilfully. We were now ready to move on.

We were introduced to the Transport Section. Each man had an Instructor to accompany him, and to assess his driving ability, then graded accordingly. I was judged competent to take a 3 ton lorry. This was often Left hand drive Dodge, which I found awkward on a night drive in convoy. I had an instructor with me at all times. There was no lighting and the headlamps were masked with louvered shuttering. We kept a rigid maintenance schedule, as we could afford no breakdowns. After a week or two a fellow called Binden Jeff and myself were not posted as many were but were listed as potential N.C.O.S and remained behind and given small tasks accordingly. We assisted the training staff when necessary until we were ordered to report to Coy Office at 09.30 hours the following morning. We were then given our posting instructions to the Officers Training School Bournemouth. This establishment was intended to introduce more up to date methods to these Officers than those they had previously acquired, it also absorbed the regular Intake from the Army Officers Emergency Reserve. These latter Officers were mainly completely raw and could not even wear their uniforms correctly.

What a wonderful posting. I was impressed with how clean and attractive the town was. Most of the large Hotels had been requisitioned and housed government offices evacuated from London and safe from the bombing. The military had also taken over many of the smaller hotels to house overseas troops. Mainly Canadian Airmen at this time, and the personnel employed in the government offices. It was here I met my future wife, she was already a Corporal in the A.T.S having joined up in December 1939 and been bombed out twice, once in the city in the office, and once in the housing accommodation in the West End. We were now included in the Demonstration Drill Platoon which consisted of Officer in Charge, 1 Captain, 1 Sergeant, 3 full Corporals and 3 lance Corporals. The remainder was made up from other ranks. Our normal workload was 52 drill periods each week. (Including Demonstrations). We always had an audience on the sea front each day.

Captain Watts was a regular soldier and a perfectionist. If the movement was not suitable we repeated it until it was. The scabbard and bayonets were highly polished and all metal surfaces were buffed with chain mail. The very day of our arrival we were put on main guard, and I occupied a position in the Front Rank( which meant I had nobody in front whom I could copy). We were ordered to Fix Bayonets. I muffed it completely. Eventually I did get the bayonet on to the rifle. The RSM who was Duty Officer called out 鈥淕uard Commander Corporal Merrell there is a man here who is dead from the socks up. Make sure he can fix bayonets by the morning鈥�. From then on I could.
I was later moved on to the Mechanized Transport Section, where I gained further experience with other transport. 15 CWT Bedfords, 3 ton Bedfords. Four wheel drive Troop Transporters and others. My first detail having been transferred to the Motor Vehicle Section was with the use of a 10cwt Utility Pick Up Truck with a canvass hood. I was detailed to report a Captain Coomber at HQ at the Southcliffe Hotel. He was a Royal Ordnance Instructor. On reporting to him I was told to help move into the vehicle a large selection or modern explosives. Most of them inert and told I would be taking these to the Royal Military College at Sandhurst. Following Captain Coombers road route we arrived well in time. We then unloaded our equipment into a large room off the Hall of Study, and using trestle tables, we set up an exhibition site. By this time the day was drawing to a close, and I was detailed to report to the Mess where food had been laid on for me. I spent the evening in the N.A.F.F.I. As it was May 1941 Double Summer Time, the blackout didn鈥檛 deter me finding my way about. I was told to sleep with the exhibits and guard them, which I did having asked for an early call from the Cadet Guard. On awakening I realized I was aware where to freshen up and shave. Eventually I found an ornate bathroom with wash hand basins and a sunken bath. Feeling distinctly an intruder I hastily completed my ablutions and vacated the premises. My breakfast was probably served in the General Duties Mess. I reported to Captain Coomber at 08.00 hours who told me he was the lowest commissioned rank present this day. The highest being H.R.H The Duke of Gloucester, General The Lord Gort, was next and from then on Lieut Generals and Major Generals by the handful. The object of this conference was to form the Guards Seventh Armoured Division. I was then dismissed and told to report back at 15.00 hours. On
making my way along the Hall of Study, as inconspicuously as possible a Lieut General emerged from a door on my left and said 鈥淗alt stand by this door and let no one enter, the General is in conference and does not wish to be disturbed鈥�

I was devastated how could I, a mere Rookie dare to confront such a high ranking group of Officers. A few minutes later a Major General without a hat approached me from my right hand side and made as if to enter the room I grabbed the handle tightly saying 鈥淪ir the General is in conference and does not wish to be disturbed Sir鈥�. The Officer said 鈥淏ut dammit my hats in there鈥� he was talking quite loudly so I said 鈥淚鈥檓 sorry Sir, those are my instructions鈥�. At this point a most impressive R.S.M appeared. I later discovered it was R.S.M Britain who tapped smartly on the door waited for permission, opened the door and admitted the offended Officer. Turing to me he growled 鈥淕et Lost鈥� I did this with great pleasure.

Captain Coomber and I quickly retrieved all of the exhibits and we replaced them in the vehicle and sheeted them down under the canopy. Captain Coomber then said 鈥淢y HQ is only a few miles from here I intend to spend the night there. Where do you live?鈥�. Having told him he suggested I fill up on site with petrol he would sign a work ticket back here next morning when we would make our return journey to Bournemouth. For me it was an unforgettable experience.
I understood that the M.C section was very short of Instructors, so I applied to transfer there. My only M.C experience then was transporting five Lee Enfields by lorry to a flat area in Merrick Park, unload them and the students were then assessed as to their abilities to ride the machines around in a circle and to weave in and out of obstacles. It was here I familiarised myself with the motorbike. It was here as well that I had my lucky break, because I met for the first time Lieut Ford. I instructed him on maintenance tasks. On his return some weeks later I noticed he was wearing a Red Beret. During our conversations together, I confided in him that it was my ambition to join the 1st Airborne Division, but I was needed here. He said that if you volunteer and I apply for your to join my unit, you should be accepted. We put this into practice and I was accepted into the newly formed 250 Light Composite Company. I reverted to Driver willingly as there was no vacancy for a Corporal in the establishment at that time. I was posted to Amesbury Abbey. On my arrival late in the evening I was met by the Duty Staff Car and taken to the Abbey itself.

I reported to the Duty Sergeant who told me where to kip down and report next morning to CPL Stormy, who was the Coy Office Corporal. A good start. It so happened C.S.M Gibbs was in the office when I asked for CPL Stormy. 鈥淐PL Fairwever to you鈥� he corrected and I watched my step from then on. I was told to report at 08.45 hours outside the office of Maj St John Packe and joined he head of the queue of offenders. This was quite a new situation as far as I was concerned. The C.S.M was looking at the place on my battle Dress where I had removed my chevrons, and the marks where they had been still remained. 鈥淚 don鈥檛 like you鈥� he said belligerently. 鈥淵ou are scruffy, you are in MY ARMY NOW and I am going to teach you how to be a soldier. When I open the door for you to go into the commanding officer I don鈥檛 want you to walk in or march in I want you to bloody well fly in鈥� and he did indeed mean it. He flew me in and he flew me out. My feet hardly touched the ground. My second entry immediately afterwards was more modest and he introduced me to my Commanding Officer. After telling me a little about the Company, Maj St John Packe welcomed me and hoped I would settle in and become a useful member of the Company. As I was the most recent recruit, C.S.M Gibbs gave me his full attention by setting me a job every time he saw me.

I now met one of my neighbours in the Coy. Cpl Ted Nye and he helped me settle in. Reading Coy orders the day after my arrival I found the following day we were to assemble outside the Abbey at 14.00 hours Dress P.T shorts only ( no top clothing) and P.T shoes. It was a cold day and we were to complete a cross country run of 6 miles in all. As we started off I joined an established member of the Company after running beside him for a couple of miles, I found he was strong in both wind and limb, I found it difficult to keep pace with him. At one point Staff Sgt Myers was directing the runners into the swollen river. Croucher jumped in feet first and I saw his hair floating on the top of the water. That鈥檚 deep I thought as I followed him and jumped in too. I was a poor swimmer at that time so I floundered to the other side. Thank goodness that鈥檚 over I puffed. We continued running on this bank flagging by now when I couldn鈥檛 believe it we were expected to jump in again and swim to the other side. The second immersion was not such a shock as I had become acclimatised. On our arrival at the Abbey grounds gate I began to feel pleased with myself as I had never done anything like this before. On our return to our Nissen Huts we had a good rub down and changed into dry clothing. I felt a glow of well being and wondered what next. This was the prelude to an intensive training course.

It was stimulating to join the 250 coy at this stage as it was and entirely new concept and was feeling it鈥檚 way all of the time. I was now appointed Lance Corporal and a few days later I was told to report to Platoon Office. I was given instructions to take three 3 ton lorries with various stores to Pembroke in South Wales. I was to proceed by the most expeditious route. Those were my written instructions. We were to participate as part of an exercise, further information was with held. After a close examination of the maps and taking into consideration the mileage involved I realized I could circumvent 300 miles for each lorry by using the ferry run by the Aust Ferry Shipping Coy. Three lorries would be a 900 mile saving and at 10 miles to the gallon that was equivalent to 90 gallons of petrol. I was aware that each gallon brought in was at the great risk to lives. With mines and U Boats there was a continual hazard at all times. This was also a great map reading exercise as all sign posts had been removed.

We camouflaged our vehicles near a large airfield nearby and were joined next day by the Platoon Subaltern who arrived with his driver in a small Austin Staff Car. He then explained. There was to be a surprise Parachute drop late that day in order to put this airfield out of service. It was a mock raid of course. The Parachute drop was only partially successful proving the necessity for further practice. We unloaded the emergency stores and members of an Essex Regt dealt with its further allocation. Our Section Officer had already departed so we followed suit over nighting in our lorries near Swansea, and completed our journey via the Aust Ferry Service. Our training completely altered now that was the last we saw of the three ton vehicles.

A few days later I was summoned to the Platoon Office where the Platoon Officer sat looking decidedly perturbed. Read that he said pushing a bulky envelope towards me. It was a demand for payment from the Aust Ferry Steamship Coy for the enormous sum of 拢24. 2s 6d. Who鈥檚 paying this he demanded I cant. My heart felt like a stone as it plummeted to my boots and I envisaged my pay being stopped for weeks on end. 鈥淪ir鈥� I said 鈥渢hese are my written instructions to proceed by the most expeditious route鈥�. I showed him the instructions. 鈥淰ery well dismiss鈥� he said. I was looking at Part One Orders a few days later and I had been reinstated to full Corporal.

From now on our sister Coy 253 Coy took over the Heavy Transport and we were relieved of that responsibility. Our mode of training was now completely altered. We received supplies of Jeeps and Trailers. Completely new vehicles to us. Two trailers were allocated to each Jeep. I being Corporal was now responsible for 5 Jeeps and 10 Trailers. Capt Kavannagh was now our Platoon Officer, he took his Parachute Training Course, and returned full of enthusiasm that we should follow suit. It was decided that as we were to work closely with Gliders a shortened Parachute Course would be sufficient. We needed a stick of 10 L/Cpl Syme and myself as N.C.O.s and eight other ranks.

We were duly posted to Hardwick Parachute Training Centre near Chesterfield. Here we were subjected to a programme of intensive but varied physical training. On arrival we were stretched out on the couch and pummelled relentlessly by the Doctor. I could not believe what I was hearing when he said to me 鈥淭here is some Flab here needing to come off鈥� I thought I knew what to expect, but in no way could I envisage what was to come. Firstly No Smoking at all. Then we doubled everywhere. When we stood still we ran on the spot. If we rested between exercises in the Gym, and folded our arms across our chest, we had to sprint three times around the Gym. I lost my Flab. On Saturday at the conclusion of the course, we marched 10 miles from Hardwick Hall to Chesterfield in full Marching Order which was Large Pack, Small Pack and Webbing, probably about 60lb in weight. At Chesterfield we entrained and travelled to Ringway Airport Manchester. It was here we started our Parachute Training. We were split into our sticks of ten men. A Sergeant Instructor was allocated to each stick, and he guided us through this next period of training. It was termed Synthetic Training. This was series of contraptions set up to simulate various landing situations. The first could be likened to a Merry Go Round with thongs which we held onto firmly with our hands above our heads. Then lifting our feet from the ground we were swung violently outwards in a circle. On the command LET GO we adopted the crouched position feet firmly together and landed on the thick matting beneath us. We practiced this landing first as this was most important. Next we were directed to a mock up Hawser Glider fuselage with a hole in the centre of the floor. We lined up five each side and alternately exited through the hole in rapid succession landing correctly on the coconut matting below. Then there was a contraption called a Fan which entailed a 60ft climb up a wall ladder in this huge hanger and walk along the gantry to a platform. A harness was rapidly fixed to us and the order GO given to us. We then pushed ourselves into a free fall of 30ft, the rope which was attached to the Fan

above, tautened and steadied our fall. The harness was quickly released and rewound quickly to the Fan. This took place individually for each jump. After several days with these gadgets we were told (weather permitting) we should make our first balloon descents from Tatton Park nearby. The next day the weather being suitable we drew our Parachutes and were transported by lorry to the dropping area. A captive Barrage Balloon secured to a lorry by a windlass attached, drew the Balloon down to within a few feet from the ground.

Five of us wearing our parachutes dodged under the basket and climbed into it from the hole in the centre. The Sergeant Instructor was already in the basket. He immediately clipped each parachute webbing to the straps inside the basket so they were firmly affixed. He then leaned over the side of the basket and called to the balloon crew 鈥淯p 850鈥�(meaning feet) 鈥�5 dropping鈥�. We were numbered 1 to 5. As I was Corporal 1 was number 1. On command ACTION STATION NO 1. I moved my legs into the hold and crouched on the edge. On the command GO I pushed myself through the hole into freefall, approximately 120 feet, when the parachute would then open as normal. It was a most exciting experience, so quiet, until the Officer with the megaphone called out instructions. We bundled up our chutes as prescribed taking them to the mobile packing shed nearby being assured by the issuing N.C.O these are all packed with blankets. A hollow jest. I looked towards the second balloon and saw a soldier make his descent as we had done so recently. He crashed into the ground not 50 yards away, his chute did not open. I looked at my team. There was no eye contact. This was a critical moment and our Instructor rushed in amongst us 鈥淐ome on you blokes double march鈥� and he marched us back to our own balloon where we were rapidly connected up and made our 2nd jump. A Court of Enquiry was held about this as the Packers No was on the chute and the packer could be identified. What a responsibility. After this unfortunate accident the weather not being in our favour Synthetic Training went on as usual. One morning however we were told to withdraw chutes from the Parachute Unit, and await instructions, as it was hopeful we should have our first Aircraft drop that morning. Very shortly afterwards we were taken by lorry to a waiting aircraft a Wimpy. We put on our chutes and climbed into the fuselage, to our allocated positions. I was dropping as No 1 so was positioned facing the tail, No2 would face forward in that alternating order. Eventually we took off and made our way to the Dropping Zone. At this stage we were wearing soft rubber helmets which tied under the chin. On the command 鈥淎ction Station No 1鈥� I swung my legs and feet into the hole. On the command 鈥淕O鈥� I launched myself forward and through the aperture. I had the impression of the rear wheel spinning and passing in front of my face, then could see nothing. After a moments panic I remained still and felt the chute open and steady me down to discover my helmet had dislodged and covered my eyes. Looking upwards I saw all my rigging lines in order so I raised my arms and grabbed the webbing straps, one on either side of my head. Using these I was able to manoeuvre myself into a reasonable landing. I felt greatly relieved and patted myself on the back. The next day we repeated this once more. I secured my hat firmly this time. There was one other trainee to follow me as No 2 and L/Cpl Syme was No 3. This next landing of mine was not a good one I had obviously not paid sufficient attention and had crash landed, shaking myself severely. Not a bad thing really as one can become overconfident. Sitting on the ground I looked for Jock鈥檚 parachute in the sky and wondered where he was. The aircraft then made a second run in and I saw a figure I recognized as Jock. It appeared there had been a refusal so Jock鈥檚 jump had been delayed. The refusal would be returned to unit. This now concluded our Parachute Course. The next day we returned to Amesbury via train to Bulford and continued to familiarize ourselves with the jeeps and trailers which continued to arrive in dribs and drabs.

During the course of the following week a number of us were detailed to experience flying in a glider. The Hotspur was used on this occasion which held eight men including the pilot. It was towed by the Miles Master Training Aircraft. The Hotspur being the larger of the two. We sat on the floor facing each other to balance the aircraft. There were small portholes we could see through. It was a unique experience for me to see the ground below spread out like a big map. I enjoyed several of these trips during the next week or so.

From now on we experimented with baskets and containers which would eventually be transported by aircraft. The containers were designed to carry weapons and ammunition, these being carried with parachute attached in the Bomb Bays or under the wings of aircraft. The baskets were designed from a laundry basket which was the brainchild of Major St John Packe (as he was at that time) he based it on a laundry basket seen at home. The baskets were made of wicker, and the lid fitted completely over the whole base and were kept in place by two webbing strips and firmly fastened. These contained rations, clothing, blankets and all medical supplies.

At this time also we were subjected to a vigorous training programme. One exercise entailed covering a 7 and a quarter mile return journey to a private airfield on the way to Salisbury, once round the flagpole (where we were checked.) We wore Field Service Marching Order which included personal weapons, extra Bren Mags and our personal ammunition. We were expected to cover this return journey in less than one hour. This was one of may such runs. It was during this period that each Jeep was issued with struts of hardwood and screw clamps, we were instructed how to use them and their purpose. The struts were used as a support for the leaf springs on each Jeep and the screw clamps to hold them firmly in place, one on top of the other when stacked in the hold of a ship, the trailers likewise. This equipment was transported with each Jeep for the Dockers to assemble. We now had to drive these Jeeps and Trailers in a convoy to their place of departure. We all left out berets behind and wore forage caps with no badges and battle dress tops with no means of identification on it. The movement of troops was highly secret. Captain Paddy Kavannagh was in charge of the convoy and seemed to be permanently zipping up and down to keep it under control. The journey was made in easy stages about 100 miles each day. We stopped at towns en route where sleeping arrangements had been laid on. We were accommodated at Preston in a football stadium and bought the best feed of Fish and Chips I have ever tasted. We stayed in some old Mill buildings at Carlisle sharing Guard Duties until we reached Glasgow. It was here we delivered our Jeeps and Trailers to the Port Authorities. We accomplished our return journey swiftly by train to Bulford.

It was now 1943 and we had been given Embarkation Leave. We had no idea of our destination, but entrained at Bulford and travelled to Liverpool overnight. We embarked early morning on the Stirling Castle of the Union Castle Line and made our way to safe anchor. We later joined a rendezvous point and dropped anchor. I went on deck to get some fresh air and was joined by one of our Company. He was a Scot. On the shore about 400 yards away were some cottages, a small figure came out of one of them and proceeded to hang out some washing. My companion suddenly came to life 鈥淢a wee Hen Ma we Hen called frantically and he looked capable of jumping ship to reach her. We鈥檙e in the Clyde he said excitedly and rushed off to tell his close associates.

We were gradually joined by a number of ships of varying size forming a Convoy. The Royal Navy were to escort us we were joined by several Corvettes and Destroyers, and one or two hastily converted ships which
had flight decks recently fitted. The weather now turned rough so much so that the destroyers seemed to disappear into the waves. The alarm sounded on board ship on several occasions and we could see the aircraft taking off from the Carriers. There were times when lying in my bunk I heard the sudden crack of a depth charges fuse followed by an intense vibration on the hull of our ship. Thank goodness for our escort our beleaguered little Island was dependant on these gallant crews.

After our intensive blackout for months on end we suddenly saw brilliant lights to Port and Starboard of us. Two neutral Countries, Spain and Morocco. We were entering the Mediterranean. Not long after we reached Oran. We disembarked, I was not prepared for the stifling heat, it seemed to rise from the ground itself. There were swarms of flies thousands of them. With the constant movement of troops and transport the dusty surface was not able to settle before it was reactivated and remained suspended in the air. There was even an occasional whirlwind which whipped tents away and often did lift our smaller possessions away depositing them further a field. We spent the night at a prearranged Staging Camp where we received notification that our Jeeps and Trailers had arrived at a small port nearby. We were more than glad to be transported there by truck and we split ourselves into work parties, working day and night to unload them and service them for the road. This entailed removing strapping, refilling sump with oil, checking battery and reconnecting. Then adding sufficient petrol to reach our next supply and, big problem keep, constant guard as we were a prime target for theft. It was now near here that we were permitted to visit a small beach and swim, it completely restored us.

We now formed a convoy of Jeeps and trailers and made our way to Mascara where we consolidated ourselves our transport and the stores we carried. This camp was well organized and consisted of Officers Mess, Sgts Mess and cooking facilities under awnings, a small Marquee which we used as a Mess also the N.A.F.F.I, was housed there. The tents were in orderly lines and were our 125 1lb ers. Camouflaged outside with a dark blue lining inside keeping off the harsh light of the sun and completely storm proof. All vehicles including Vehicle Workshops were parked close by and very closely guarded. This left space for Coy Parade Ground. The whole of this area had recently been harvested of wheat, which left stubble eliminating the dust problem so prevalent elsewhere. Immediately at the back of this encampment was a steep hill bestrewn with boulders. The powers that be decided that we should run up this hill and down again at Reveille each day. This might re-establish our
physical fitness. I noticed a distinct usage of expletives whilst performing this unwelcome task.

This area was an enigma, so contradictory. It was farmed most successfully by the French using local labour. They had erected large water storage areas, by using cement rings one on top of the other and controlled by valves. They must have pumped from the underground water source and provided irrigation sufficient to grow two crops yearly of various fruits and vegetables, yet I was privileged to witness at a nearby Arab Farm the flailing of wheat using beaters similar to our fire beaters in our forests. This was carried out on a round wooden platform the flails being used very vigorously by men. After the beating this was left for a windy day. This happened frequently in this dry period. Then the teams returned with flat wooden shovels and cast the grain and chaff into the air. The wind disposing of the chaff the grain was shovelled and sieved then stored ready for grinding. This could have taken place in Biblical times in an identical manner.

Having re-established ourselves as a working unit once more and Advance Party was organized to move to a new location. This entailed our breaking Camp, the majority of the tentage being dismantled and taken with them by lorry. We were to follow later bringing the remainder of the transport with us in convoy with the workshops forming a rear guard. It was not until we were ready to move that it was disclosed we were making our way to Sousse, a 1,000 mile journey, part of which would be through the Atlas Mountains. I now rode a B.S.A Motorbike with two others one of them being Sergeant Staples. We went on ahead to check the track and the other two motor cyclists were detailed to monitor the convoy on route. The three ton lorries were no problem but the workshop vehicle was long and cumbersome and needed monitoring on the bends.

These roads were most hazardous with sharp hairpin bends. A driver had plunged to his death not long before when he had driven over the edge into a ravine. I was detailed to go on in front and check the track and report back as necessary. On one occasion we over-nighted in some flat pasture off the main road. We made the vehicles secure and under guard then started to prepare a meal. A number of local villagers appeared from nowhere with their produce which they offered for sale at a reasonable price. Hard boiled eggs, tomatoes onions, various fruits including melons and pomegranates. At the same time and Arab headman possibly from the village came and looked us over. He was mounted on a magnificent horse, akin to one of our best Arab Race horses the rider and the horse looked welded as one.

Early the next morning after each of us had prepared our own meal the convoy moved on. I rode on in front again and suddenly encountered a wall of thick mist and continued forward. Just as suddenly I emerged from this mist and saw the nearest mountain peak encircled by its own ring of mist. The sun blazed from a cloudless sky of brilliant blue, I almost started to descend when I recollected my obligations to the following convoy, and returned to prepare them for the situation ahead. Slowly and carefully we continued in this way until we reached Sousse and just by Msaken was the site which had been prepared for us. It was near a small village called Nice. The advance party had laid out the Camp most successfully. They had placed the tents close together in such a manner that all the adjoining tents could open their tent flaps and encourage a flow of air throughout the whole area controlling the temperature. They had also pumped water from the local wells into our water wagon. I, and several others bought pottery water containers made by the local villagers which we hung from the trees by their double handles. The evaporation caused cooling allowing us to have our own supply of deliciously cool water in this parched area. We were introduced now to E and F Landing Strips for D.C.3. Aircraft belonging to the U.S.A Air Transport Command. Suddenly one afternoon an extremely loud explosion was heard nearby followed by the cracking and spitting of exploding ammunition. Our ammunition from our first line Ammunition Dump had ignited somehow possibly instantaneous combustion in this extreme heat. All available men were marshalled together and surrounded the area, then lying low on the ground inched their way to any available ammunition considered safe and dragged it away from the danger zone. This continued for several hours but was eventually subdued.

From now on we established a routine at 14.00hrs each day a number of us in turn were taken to the local beach to have a swim. It was beautiful silver sand we were taken and returned by lorry. We had been relieved of many of our menial tasks in order for this to happen. We needed now to spend all our time becoming familiar with our work with Air Despatch and the D.C 3s. Each morning a lorry was despatched to pick up a number of Prisoners of War either from the Italian or German Camps and to return them later. It was strange to see their different characteristics. The Italians surged forward when we arrived clambering onto the lorry to make sure they would be included. Me too Tommy, Me too they would call and were smiling and most happy to be collected. The German Prisoners, were most sombre and correct. They would march towards us singing their favourite Army tunes and behave very correctly. There were many cleaning jobs they could do and also we gave them the job of bashing the used food tins we had already burned off and burying them. It kept the Camp clear of flies. We were on constant guard with our stores, clothing and possessions or they melted away into nothingness. One day Capt Kavannagh decided we need target practice and detailed us to mock up a tank turret and base using empty petrol cans filled with sand. We duly bombarded this in turn for some considerable time. When we stopped for a rest the most ludicrous spectacle took place. Suddenly two Arabs ran out from behind this so called tank looking as though the Hounds of Hell were snapping at their heels. They bunched up their flowing robes to their knees and one of them was wearing a pair of D.R boots he had pilfered and hadn鈥檛 yet fathomed out how to do them up. He looked so odd with his skinny legs encased in over sized boots. We ran behind the target expecting to find a luckless body or two, but no all was clear. C.S.M Gibbs had also decided a night march was in order for some of us not on other duties. I was ordered to have hot water ready for them when they returned, so the cooks could make them a hot drink on arrival. I needed to borrow a watch, but the one I borrowed was far from perfect. I had to add something and take account of the hour hand pointing in a different direction at certain times. In other words it didn鈥檛 work. I suddenly heard them returning. I turned out the cooks but we were too late and I was on a charge. Neglect of Duty. I was duly marched in and when asked for my side of the story I explained None of us had watches so they could never be synchronized. After careful deliberation the case was dismissed but within 24 hours each N.C.O on duty was issued with a pocket watch. Shortly afterwards all N.C.O.s were issued with wrist watches which was a matter of course.

We could now settle down constructively to become efficient in this new role of ours. Resupply by Air. At first we fitted the rollers into the aircraft according to our overall plan. This was a straight run through the centre with a tapered turn to the door. We placed six spurs of rollers under the centre bulkhead enabling us to control the balance. This meant the heavy baskets were placed in the centre. A number of trials were made fixing rollers only, then later trials fitting baskets this time, attaching the equivalent parachutes to each basket. The temperature inside the metal fuselage was equal to a hot oven. The perspiration dripped into our eyes, so we had to wear a sweat band on our brow made
from parachute silk. It also dripped from our fingers, but we could do nothing about that. It was almost impossible to tie the knots we needed in our 1001lb breaking strain silk. We were endeavouring by this time to unite the system, so, on despatch each parachute would open on schedule. Firstly each basket had its own parachute firmly attached, the second basket also with its own parachute would be attached to the first by breaking strain silk. This would happen until the whole twelve had been dispatched. Twelve being a full drop. We then had to devise a mock load for each basket, to anticipate future loads. We made one or two experimental runs in order to assess any shortcomings that might arise. Then came a time and motion study. It was now decided by a bright spark that a guard rail at the turn by the exit might be beneficial. This guard rail consisted of three uprights fixed to the rollers at the bend, and two flat rails inserted into the slots in the uprights, forming a barrier. My team and I decided that after the despatch of the first pair of baskets, the second pair would be inclined to tip up dislodging the lower rail of the barrier as it was only slotted into place, and would jam the exit. Our protest was ignored however. Very soon afterwards we were detailed to give a demonstration to a visiting Brigadier. We all assembled at the strip having prepared our load in advance. The visiting dignitary appeared with a Captain accompanying him and Major St John Packe. We all boarded the aircraft standing well forward under the centre bulkhead. The weight in the aircraft with the extra personnel was frowned upon by the American crew. We took off successfully however and made two dummy runs over the dropping zone. At the third run in on the Red Light I lifted the retaining bar which was across the entrance, and on the Green Light pushed the first two baskets from the aircraft. As the second pair were propelled towards the Exit they tipped forward dislodging the second rail across the rollers. Seeing this I leaned across the doorway with both arms outstretched and braced myself agents the sides of the exit. I then, using my legs and feet endeavoured to push them back into the aircraft. In doing so I flung myself forward and was rescued by two of my crew, who grabbed me tightly and pulled me inboard. I lost my beret however and it was restored to me later by the Captain with the words 鈥淐lose call Corporal鈥�. A new guard rail was fashioned immediately. This time it was quite secure being bolted together, then dismantled as required.

A day or so later after parade I received instructions for my three crew and myself to pack 12 baskets with parachutes attached, plus a set of rollers on to a lorry which was already waiting, Wash and Brush up wear
best Khaki Drill and present ourselves immediately. We were to follow the escorting jeep which held Major St John Packe, Capt Kavannagh and
Capt Gifford. We travelled about 4 miles along the road towards Sfax where we suddenly turned off to the right onto a dirt track. Here we hastily arranged a layout on the ground identical to that in the aircraft. We waited for almost an hour when a small convoy was sighted coming towards us. We immediately took up our positions and stood to attention to be inspected by no less than General Montgomery himself. He greeted our officers and asked for a rundown on the layout we had prepared. I stood quite close to him, he was wearing his Black Beret with badges attached Khaki Drill Uniform and suede desert boots. He carried a horse tail fly switch attached to a short wooden handle. His conversation was directed to Maj St John Packe he appeared most enthusiastic. It was very soon afterwards my team and I were directed to take our rollers to E Strip and set up the system inside the aircraft, when we had completed this Major Potter appeared. I had known him at the O.T.S at Bournemouth. He seemed pleased to renew our acquaintance ship and told me we had been detailed for a further mission. In Italy this time. He said no further instructions were to be given now, but we were to accept and load 12 baskets which had already been packed and had their parachutes attached. We were told they were very important and our destination would be disclosed on departure. We were joined by the American Air Crew. The usual complement was two Pilots, one Navigator, one Wireless Operator and a Buck Sergeant Flight Engineer. The following day after the usual maintenance checks we took off for Bari in Italy. This was the first time I had experienced a leisurely journey by air. I was asked 鈥渉ave you ever seen a volcano鈥�. 鈥淣o鈥� I had not. 鈥� Well you are going to see one today鈥� said the Navigator. We shall be flying around the outer rim of Mt Etna. I looked down at the Mediterranean a freighter was throwing up a brilliant white wake. It looked like a highly coloured advertisement for the whitest wash. I was surprised to see how large an area the crater was. We flew all around it then on to Bari on the Adriatic coast of Italy.

We landed at Bari at the U.S.A.F. Base where we were taken to the Mess for refreshment. We had no particular duties so spent out time in the shade of the wing of the aircraft. We slept in the aircraft quite comfortably. On the morning of the third day the two Pilots visited the aircrafts with a detailed map in their hands. They spread this on the trailing edge of the wing and we were briefed regarding our night time journey. We were to follow the Adriatic Coast to Ankona. There we were to turn in a westerly direction to the foothills of a mountain range. We should then be instructed when to make our drop. The weather forecast was clear skies Moon three quarter wax and the date was 8/9th October 1943. After our take off that night we found it a long haul over the sea, as far as Ankona. Here we turned sharply westward. I stood in the doorway of the aircraft. We were flying at a very low altitude. I saw a group of buildings from which a man suddenly emerged with the light of the doorway behind him. He obviously heard the aircraft because he ran in closing the door behind him. I also saw directly beneath us a railway track with a train travelling North to South. I could see quite clearly the firebox wide open and the stoker shovelling fuel into the boiler. He to must have heard us because he quickly closed the firebox door immediately plunging the cab into darkness. I remembered we had seen on the map the point which we had to make our drop it was where the railway track and the river converged. We must be nearly there by now. At this stage the baskets were lined up in a straight line and I and my crew were standing at our strategic positions. My station was behind the guard rails on the left hand side of the exit with the control of the drop bar on the right hand side. Looking down I could see we were approaching the proposed dropping zone. At the red light I raised the barrier and waited for the green light which did not come on, instead the Pilot realized he had over run the dropping zone he turned the aircraft sharply left tilting it at an angle. We held on to the baskets for our very life, fortunately we were able to control them. He now made another run in from the opposite direction, the green light came on and we were able to exit the baskets on target. This was very important to us because they were already packed on receipt and a notice in Italian was on each basket. One of the aircrew had translated it for us it was ATTENTION ATTENTION. The contents of these baskets are Medical Supplies, clothing food and blankets for very sick men. Please handle with extreme care. We were pleased to know we had been on a Mercy Mission.

We returned from Ankona just before first light and instead of returning to Bari, we landed at Taranto. On landing an Officer joined us and gave us a bottle of Italian Champagne to share between us saying you will be debriefed in the morning. I hardly slept for two hours when I was awakened and told I was going back to E Strip at Msaken to deliver certain important documents to Capt Gifford. I was to make the journey
alone so left my team behind together with the rollers. We refuelled and took off for E Strip. At Msaken with a fresh Air Crew. Having landed at E Strip I was joined by Maj Potter in a jeep accompanied by 15CWT dodge on which were a number of Valises and kit. Maj Potter and I were then driven to the 250 camp at Msaken. I had already changed its position to higher ground from the Olive Grove to escape flooding from the winter rains soon to come. I delivered my Document personally to Capt Gifford and in return Major Potter accepted a Black Deed Box and a large Valise to be handed to HQ at Goy de Col. On my return to the aircraft with these articles now in my care I discovered that three officers all Captains had arrived and were awaiting my return. After making them comfortable and loading my own gear on board Major Potter departed, soon after which we took off for Sicily to the Plain of Gala and landed at a large American Air Strip. Here the Air Crew other than the Buck Sergeant then taxied the Aircraft with me aboard to a Parking Bay near the beach, on which was stored a large quantity of Aviation Fuel in 5 Gallon Drums. We rolled these to the aircraft and placed the appropriate amount under each wing ready for loading. With the aid of a large funnel we then proceeded to manually fill the tanks in the wings balancing the aircraft as we did so. The Buck Sergeant then taxied the aircraft to a Parking Bay near the runway where it would be properly guarded. Now at last we were both free to have a meal.

I was taken back to the aircraft to sleep for the night by myself and was collected next morning for a wash and brush up and breakfast. On my return to the aircraft the three officers and the Crew were already aboard. I joined them. The Air Crew completed their pre-takeoff routine after which we took off in an Easterly direction. A short time after take off the Pilot could get no response from the fins and ailerons in the tail plane. It would seem the Pilots had no choice but to put the aircraft down as quickly and safely as possible. The Buck Sergeant came into us and made the signal DITCH, DITCH, DITCH which meant we would all lean forward in the foetal position, and hope for the best. I saw the apprehension on the faces of the Officers and I assume they read the same on mine. On impact my strap didn鈥檛 hold shooting me forward and luckily into a folded emergency dinghy. The noise of the rending and tearing of metal was horrendous. When all forward movement had stopped the tail plane was acutely in the air. I feverishly scrambled up the fuselage shouting OUT.OUT.OUT, and jumped as far away from the Aircraft as I could, closely followed by the three Officers. Thanks to the quick thinking of the Air Crew, all ignition had been switched off. There was no fire. That was most remarkable when the heavy load of fuel we had just taken on board was taken into account. The Radio Operator fashioned an emergency Arial and contacted the base. A large truck was sent out to rescue us and our belongings. The next day an alternative was provided so we could complete journeys I didn鈥檛 see the three Officers again. The precious document and equipment for which I was responsible was loaded on to an aircraft which was scheduled for Bari but I was to be dropped of at Gioia. Just after we had taken off we encountered a violent electrical storm, with torrential rain and very limited visibility. The Astra Dome forward was leaking badly and I was needed to hold a bucket and catch the excess water and throw it from the open doorway. The pilots decided to fly just out at sea where the surf line showed up white and acted as a guide. After period of less than half an hour we cleared the storm completely. Radio communications were restored and we were back on course. After unloading I was sent direct to Major St John Packe, who wanted to know why I was a day late. When I explained to him he said jokingly 鈥淚 don鈥檛 mind losing a Corporal, but I don鈥檛 want to lose these documents鈥�. After this wandering episode I was now plunged into a period of relative inactivity. The weather had changed and it was not possible to continue our re-supply by air so assiduously. Instead we did something equally important which was to see these people were now helped to help themselves. Capt Kavannagh was in command. He started off by saying you will need accommodation. It is in very short supply. There is a Fascist in that bungalow. Turn him out and I will make you up to Section strength. It was a simple matter as he was already on the point of leaving, his possessions already having been packed into a handcart. He was now an outcast, and had to move on. Gradually our numbers increased to fourteen and we worked on the bungalow making it habitable though crowded Maj St John Packe now ordered us to release some Box Wagons which had been impounded in a siding. He understood they were food supplies. Only five of my workforce and myself could be included in this task. On our arrival the Mayor and the Chief of Police came to meet us with civilian volunteers to release the trucks. A Brake man was put onto each truck to control it and by vigorous pulling and pushing they moved the wagons to another siding nearer the centre of the town which was Conversano north of Goigia. We left them then to look after themselves. I was now instructed to occupy a nearly new former school. Opposite this were the Army Barracks, still housing a Company of Transport Drivers whose vehicles had been commandeered by the departing German Forces. The six of us were detailed to stay in this accommodation for a few days. Sufficient rations however for a lengthy stay were left with us. We needed brooms to clean the place so I visited the Barracks and asked for them in sign language. In a short while 5 brooms together with 5 sweepers were sent to us. They made an excellent job of the cleaning under the supervision of Arnaldo Vettori. He asked me if he could stay on with us as an interpreter as that was the capacity he had served previously, when his company was functional. He was a Swiss Mercenary, his father was Italian and his mother German. He lived in Sargans in Switzerland. We came to know each other quite well and he endeavoured to contact me later and invited me and my wife to visit him after the war was over in his parents home in Sargans in Switzerland. With his knowledge of the three languages and my smattering of German we came to know each other. He reported to his barracks each evening and smoothed our way. By now our hair needed attention. It was too long. We asked Arnaldo where we could find a Barber. Two of my section with side arms came with me to a Barbers shop in the main street. When Arnaldo explained to the Barber what was needed he seemed astounded and proceeded to put on a show. First he placed a rubber ring over our heads so he could give us a backwash. He had a young boy with him carrying the hot water. Many children stood outside the window with their noses pushed closely to the glass and the passers by also stopped to look in. The setting was perfect the Barber was centre stage. He played to the gallery. He made the most of elaborate gestures, he held his scissors like a baton, and he almost kissed them before he started to trim. He would stand back and survey his handy work them with a flourish start again. I fully expected him to break into song or to start dancing. He regularly looked behind him to ensure he still had an audience. During the afternoon my other two companions had a similar treatment. Arnaldo then escorted the other three of our team for similar treatment the following day.

One evening the Chief of Police offered to show us the town and took us proudly from Bar to Bar, (at the Barkeepers expense) to sample the wine. As we walked in to each bar he called out Attentione, attentionne, Engleese Parakatootists and a glass of wine was freely given. The atmosphere was very relaxed. One morning I discovered we were getting very low on tinned milk. Outside the window I could hear goats, and guessing there would be milk available I took a veno bottle with me to the shed. A young lad of about twelve was milking the goat, into a small pail. 鈥淚l latte鈥� I said holding up the bottle. He shook his head saying Bambinos I repeated my request he took the bottle and crying and still saying Bambino he tried to milk the goat directly into the bottle. The milk started to run over his hand he was still distressed. I did not realize how short of milk the people were, and I felt quite disgusted with myself for my lack of foresight. I signalled him to stop and gave him a 20 lire note for himself. Smiling through his tears he ran off. He returned next day with a small jug with some milk in it. We thanked him but did not accept it. We kicked our heels feeling surplus to requirements for about a week, then as our own transport filtered through and we were returned to Goia. After a short while I was told to meet Capt Kavannagh who was going to buy a sheep from a farmer for the Officers Mess. I want you to select one for me. I was taken to the farm to an enclosed yard where several sheep were impounded. It was getting dark so I had to feel these sheep to ascertain which would give the best yield. They were big husky sheep, not like the stock I was used to handling. I made my choice and lifted it into the jeep and covered it with scrim I them sat by it to keep it still. It was dropped off at an address on the way. The next morning the carcass was delivered to the bungalow and I did my best to cut it up with a borrowed Bowie knife. The meat of course was extremely fresh and needed to receive immediate attention, because of the flies. I was now instructed to be Railway Officer at the Railway Station at Goia. I was needed to await the arrival of a number of mules. On arrival I was to inform the "powers that be" when this transpired. There was nothing at all to do. I was occupying a small office on the station premises near the Sgts. Mess, from where I received my meals brought to me by an Orderly. I soon met the station master and we spent a lot of time together. He was learning to speak English and we spoke to each other in Italian and English. He had two young daughters between six and seven years old. The children often accompanied his wife when they called in to the station. I gave her some sugar one day and a day or two later I was presented with a number of sugar almonds she had made and sent to me personally. During the course of our conversations he told me that his wages in hand amounted to 800 lires per month. The rate of exchange was 200 lire to the pound, he told me his name was La Gardia. He also told me and I found it hard to believe that his brother was the Mayor of New York. The next day our Intelligence Officer contacted me at the station regarding the mules and asked what was the position. I mentioned what the Station Master had told me and that he was hoping to go to New York one day to join his brother. I said he has documentation. He laughed at the idea and asked the Station Master if he could see the documents. When shown them he said its true, and then made the statement Italian families are often spread out, but remain close.

During the short period inactivity apart from all regimental duties we were able to meet the local population and to look at the local shops to see what was on offer. Food was in extremely short supply, but somehow Ice cream was available. I also noticed the beautifully made and embroidered children clothing was available. It was of us leave a local industry. I thought it seemed rather expensive for local people to buy. It was during one of our trips to Gioia that three of us took a laundry in to the laundress, accompanies by her son Tomasso. After a short conversation in the living room we were taken to see the wine pressing taking place at that time in their winery. Four girls with their skirts rolled up and feet bared were walking around and around a large vat filled with red grapes. The juice poured from a funnel at the base into a wide tub. It had a lot of froth on the top. The winemaker skimmed off the froth with a mug then took a sample of the juice and offered her some. We drunk it quite greedily. It was delicious. The strong sun outside made us aware of the potency of the juice even at this early stage. The family laughed with us as they well knew the after effects. We decided this time to see if one of the local farms had any eggs for sale. The farmer opened the kitchen door rather reluctantly I thought. I asked if we could buy some eggs but he shook his head. No eggs. Their hens were off lay. I was inclined to disbelieve him and said I believe he was a fascist. I was unprepared for the vehemence of his reply. 鈥淚 a worker from sunrise to sunset鈥�( he indicated where the sun rose and described an arced where the sun set). I have never had any time for politics. He was most passionate with his description, he even wiped his brow to show how hot and tired it made him. I realised he was genuinely distressed and was very short of food. We had rations to hand surplus to requirements so the next day I put some margarine, sugar and some tins of maize and veg into the sandbag and sent it to him. Shortly after, the three of us received an invitation to share a meal with them. When we arrived we were taken to a large living kitchen probably the principal room of the house. In the centre of the room was a large wooden table about 7 ft long and two for six inches wide. There were eight chairs. We were allocated seats with a large earthenware platter was placed in the centre of the table. It was very deep sided dish and to just been removed from a wall oven. It was filled to overflowing with course macaroni and tinned meat and veg to large serving spoons were placed in a dish and when we invited to help ourselves. We were each given a plate and spoon. A large pitcher was placed on the table and one single mug. The pitcher was filled to the top with red wine. When we had all served ourselves Popper at the end of the table filled the mug with wine and drinking some he passed it to his left calling Saluta as it did so. This mug circulated constantly around a table and whatever addition had been made to the meat and veg it certainly enhanced the flavour. Our lack of a common language could have been a problem but a genuine desire to make us welcome overcame that and we seemed to fully understand each other. It was so me and most lively and memorable evening.

For the past few days we had felt movement was imminent. Equipment was being moved to the docks and vehicles are being handed over to other company. Quite suddenly we received instructions to bring all our personal kit to an assembly point and from there we were transported by lorry to the docks in Taranto. The usual procedure of embarkation took place, stacking in the hold of the ship. We stepped aboard the SS Cuba, a Free French troop transporting vessel. There was a crew of both French and English. I immediately asked if I could work as a butcher aboard. I knew this way I should have better accommodation, better food and very little contact with the troupe deck which was always so overcrowded. I was taken on immediately I applied. There was a foreman in charge and I made up the 4th man. Our task was to cut a prepare either New Zealand lamb or New Zealand beef for the galley and when cooked, carve and apportion for distribution. Within two days of being at sea a cable became entangled with one of our propellers. We were forced to anchor in the Bay of Syracuse whilst divers attended to it. When this had been put right we moved off with a destroyer escorting us, then another couple of days' sailing and the destroyer escort gave three blasts on her hooter at the same time cutting in front of us at full speed heading us inshore. We disembarked at Bizerta and unpacked our belongings into railway box wagons already waiting for us at a nearby siding. Each box wagon accommodated 20 men so we could stretch out on the floor in our sleeping bags. The rations which were provided for the journey were hung in hammocks made from our blankets which swung out of our way from the ceiling. The floor was clear this way and we could keep them under observation. We waited for an hour or two whilst our engine was attached to the train then we moved off. The track was a single line track and the engine made many stops as we approached a gradient to work up steam before the ascent. We had evolved the unique way to provide a fire for tea. By punching holes in empty ration can and fashioning a wire handle we scrounged some coal from a tender and made a small fire then hung the can on the buffer. The air movement kept it a light so we could boil water on it to order.

There were sliding doors on each side of the wagon permanently open which was extremely comfortable in this warm weather. We had made one of our frequent stops, I was quietly reading at this time when I heard the train whistle in the distance then again a little nearer. Looking out from the open door I could see an engine puffing full steam ahead to the rear of us it was making an effort to clear the gradient and had no intention of stopping. It crashed into the brake van at the rear of the train. Fortunately there where no casualties other than bruises. There were sufficient men available to clear the line. We discovered later that the break man had not followed the rules which stipulated that he should walk back 1/4 mile with a red flag so the train was safeguarded during it鈥檚 immobility. This had not happened and the oncoming train had tried hard to slow down but left it too late. Our journey came to an end at Blida near Algiers. This particular tented camp in the valley was most unpleasant been in a wind tunnel and quite damp as the wet period was approaching. To our relief and number of us were to accompany Captain Havana and another officer in 3 Bedford trucks to a vehicle issuing depot at Cape Bon. Every other two of us were issued with a newly assembled three-ton dodge. They were on a conveyor-belt system of trial and error. We awaited our turn on a slight slope. The vehicle was pushed off the last inspection pit and trundled down the slight gradient on its own. As it moved towards us we both jumped one each side into the running board and entered the cab. The driver then switched on the ignition, engaged 2nd gear and the engine fired and we were away. We had been given prior instruction to pull up nose to tail on the right hand side of the road. I was driving at the time and when I applied the footbrake to slow down I discovered there were no brakes. I swung violently to the left and proceeded to the front of the convoy where I slowed down using the handbrake only. This was a transmission handbrake designed solely for parking. I reported the deficiency to Captain Kavannagh who quite calmly said proceed the best you can and the convoy moved off. I remembered my hazardous journey once before and didn't relish what was ahead one little bit however we remove the masks from the headlamps of the vehicles as it was now growing dark and proceeded on our way. My co-driver was Lieutenant corporal Syme a really clever driver for which I was most grateful. We shared the driving whenever convenient to make the changeover using low gears slowly uphill and using first and second gears down hill only applying the handbrake in an emergency. We made this nightmare journey throughout the night trying to keep up with the convoy. As we pass through one of the small towns we noticed a R.E.M.E. sign so we hopefully pulled into the yard. We explained our predicament to the engineer but he said the breakdown vehicle was away on an emergency call-out. He could not help but 10 miles along a road was a R.A.F. aerodrome. Thanking him we moved on but would have to wait until the night shift came on duty at 20:00 hours we were fed and are haversack rations replenished then we rested until the night shift reported for duty.

They duly bled off the brake system and re filled it with hydraulic fluid. Fit for the road once more we refuelled and continued on our way. It was about midnight. We caught up with the convoy in harbour alongside the road. We reported a rival and caught up with our sleep. When the convoy moved off we were part of it at last. We made our way to Algiers and parked the vehicles in a lovely pine forest above the city overlooking the bay and the Kasbah. I was a most beautiful sight. A vehicle guard was organised, changing every 24 hours. When not on guard duty the rest of us spend our time at the camp at Blida with occasional visits into Algiers. The vehicles were used during the day ferrying stores from the docks to a large buffer depot nearby until we were relieved of the duty by an incoming Coy. Christmas Day was spent at Blida and our delicacy Christmas was Bully-beef and biscuits a 12oz tin between two of us. Our situation soon improved however when we embarked on a snip belonging to the East India Snipping Company, the S.S Maloja. The usual boring journey was now averted as well known Pianist gave a Recital in the main saloon for an hour each day and it proved most popular.

We landed at Liverpool from where we entrained and arrived at our next Posting which was to Boston in Lincolnshire. We occupied a vacant camp site and were given our Disembarkation Leave from here. We now contacted our families. It was winter time and how welcome after the heat and constant comings and goings in North Africa. I took advantage of the Duke of York鈥檚 Fund and collected petrol vouchers for 300 miles of travel. My father was more than pleased to have his private car fully serviced and made ready for the road and he generously placed it at our disposal, for I was now able to collect Mac, my future wife and together we visited the O.T.S which had moved from Bournemouth to Southend. We met Jeff once more and several Officers I had known it was then I realized how much I had enriched my life by moving on when I did.

On my return to Boston the C.S.M was determined to recreate his Coy to the high standard it had been before we had all split up and we had by necessity adopted a more casual attitude, with our diverse activities. The company was made up to full strength and we were plunged into intense activity our forced marches ( a certain mileage completed within a set time) took place regularly together with more concentrated Physical Training. More frequent sessions and longer periods. We soon came up to standard and with the colder weather felt really on our toes. The Parachutes Platoons were now sent to Branston nearby accompanied by the Transport Section. We had only four 3 ton Bedfords at this time and when notified that our allocation of 40 jeeps and 80 trailers had arrived at Wellingborough and were due for collection, we were more than pleased. 40 drivers were now despatched to pick them up and I accompanied them on a motor bike. It was a clear bright day the vehicles being ready we made a quick turnaround and started on the return journey immediately.
As it became dark it also became very cold. We were not yet fully acclimatized to the change in temperature. I had to make several stops to restore my circulation.

After passing through Stamford I saw thankfully the Aircraft Recognition lights which I knew were coming from a large airfield near Branston. On my arrival at the main entrance I called out to the sentry
鈥淚ts Blaxley don鈥檛 stop me, don鈥檛 stop me鈥�. I carried on down the long dive under the Coach Arch and literally fell off the bike into the yard, beyond. I was quickly picked up in a state of frozen immobility. The convoy now followed on and the cooks having been alerted soon had a hot meal ready for us all.

At this time a number of N.C.Os were selected to attend a Weapon Training Course at the Northern Command Weapon Training School at Catterick. This comprised of target practice, assault movement, defence and pull back. There was also a test on Field craft which entailed Movement without being observed. All of this I thoroughly enjoyed. The course including travel only lasted about 10 days. It was after this Exercise Mush took place. This engaged the 6th Airborne and the 1st Airborne. The platoons involved moved our transport in advance to strategic places in Oxfordshire. We were then briefed regarding our objective which was to be transported by Glider to recognized Landing Zones (L.Z) where our jeeps had already been parked. The Glider Pilots were British and the Tugs were to be American. Reveille was at 11.59 hrs when we made our way to the parked Gliders off the runway. There were approximately 28 men per Glider including Officers.

In due time we took off and flew in close formation in a repeated circle until dawn. When the sun came up the clouds below us were completely silver and it was quite cold. When a signal was given we were cast off, we were below the clouds by then and could see quite clearly the layout of the fields below. Our pilots found a spot which seemed suitable and headed for it in a steep dive, giving themselves as much room as possible across this quite small field. We finished up draped over a hedge at the far end of the field. This taught us many things one of them being to ascertain all loose equipment was adequately secured on take off as flying pieces of equipment can be quite destructive. We were minus one wing which was laying nearby but the large side door was intact which allowed us easy exit. The officers and planners were experimenting as well, this was new to all of us. An intensive course on the Yorkshire moors followed this. We were based at Holmefirth. All live ammunition was used with a 10 degree aim off. As we moved from site to site we had to invent casualties which could them be dealt with on site by the Medics. We continued with this for a number of days living rough with just a groundsheet nothing more. Eventually we occupied an old mill at Holmefirth which became our base. This training really hardened us off.
One evening whilst on Regimental duties I saw a young lad about 12 years old leaving the cookhouse with something stuffed up his jumper. I called
out to him 鈥淪top sonny, what鈥檚 your name?鈥� 鈥淛ohnny Runaway and I鈥檓 off鈥� he replied. He promptly disappeared rapidly his clogs clattering on the path. I found this most amusing he certainly scored. I decided it must be the keen sharp air that brought this faculty to the fore. We eventually occupied a tentage camp at Harwell. Five gliders were selected and I was put in charge of them. These were duly loaded with our jeeps and trailers which had in turn been loaded with 6 inch mortar shells and strapped down ready for take off. The remaining jeeps contained either 303 ammunition in clips or 9mm Sten gun ammunition, in magazines. Then came the period of waiting, having in the past weeks had so many false alarms we hoped this would not be another one. We were now given 48 hours leave and took this opportunity to go home. I now became officially engaged and at the end of the 48 hours I left my fianc茅 at Sgts Mess and made my way to the accommodation arranged for me. As it was now quite late at night and everything looked closed down I decided not to arouse the household and slept instead in an air raid shelter near the Cathedral with another soldier. During the early hours of the morning we were visited by a Policeman on his rounds. We asked him if he knew where we could get some tea in the morning. 鈥淭here is a Salvation Army Canteen across the road鈥� he said 鈥� Which opens at 07.00 hrs. Try that, no doubt they can fix you up鈥�. At 07.00 we walked across the road and knocked smartly on the door. 鈥淲hat do you want鈥� a voice called. 鈥淭here are two of us, can you fix us up with some tea?鈥� 鈥淲ait a minute鈥� said the voice and it was accompanied by such a clattering as somebody fell down the stairs. 鈥� Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear鈥� came the voice. 鈥� Can you reach the bolt?鈥� we said. 鈥� Yes鈥� he quavered and released it. We pushed the door gently open and stepped over the body to pick him up and carry him upstairs. We sat him in a chair and made him some tea instead. We found he only had one leg having lost a leg in the Great War. Poor fellow.
The Sally Anne had turned up trumps again.

Events from now on seemed to take place with lightening rapidity. Capt Kavannagh together with the Parachute Platoon departed on the 17th Septembers, day one of Market Garden. It was now our turn to follow suit, for we were scheduled to take off on the 18th September, day two.
Day one personnel were given the task of defending our landing zone, and establishing a rendezvous point Blue smoke. In the meantime we were given our full briefing and a substantial breakfast, after which we eventually joined our respective Glider and each in turn were hitched up to our tug with a nylon tow rope. There were two tow ropes, one to each wing but they both joined at a central point on the tug.

After we had been airborne for some time I stood in the central bulkhead between the two pilots and after a few more minutes flying I glanced down at the instrument panel and discovered that the tow rope indicator had gone off screen. The Co pilot on my right whipped his communication mike to his mouth and called 鈥淐limb, climb, climb. At the same time the pilot adjusted the airbrakes (flaps) on the wings to slow us down. At that moment to my horror the camouflaged nose of our Stirling Tug appeared through a cloud just in front of us and I was looking straight down into the face of the rear gunner who mouthed BLOODY HELL.
The tow rope them took the strain, thankfully no damage was done. I turned round and looked at my two crew who were with me, they both gave me the thumbs up sign and grinned.

After a little while we passed over the North Sea. We are now over Belgium the pilot explained and as we progressed in land we encountered opposition from Ack Ack fire. All was quiet except for the Crump Crump of the Ack Ack missiles targeting us. From my position standing where I was, I could see what was happening in front of us, and was most impressed to see how quickly the R.A.F Typhoons dealt with Ack Ack forces on the ground with their rockets.

As we approached our common target bunching became a hazard, our pilots had selected a spot however and we landed quite successfully. I looked about me at the quiet efficiency, everybody going about their appointment tasks. I also went about mine, and made for Blue Smoke. I was caught from then on in a maelstrom of activity swept for ever onward by this current of events until it culminated in my being arrested in my tracks.

Quote 鈥� I was caught off balance鈥�.

To Be Continued...............

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