大象传媒

My father was a medical student in Kings College, London when war broke out in 1939. When he qualified in 1944 he volunteered, joined up and commanded a field ambulance. He went to the Cherbourg peninsula in France. His unit moved behind advancing military forces in France, Belgium, Holland and Germany. They set up Regimental Aid Posts which were casualty posts.

He had mentioned the diary to my sister Margaret but never really discussed it. He was a very private man. When we returned to my parents' home after my father died we looked in the loft for a trunk which contained all his papers and found a brown envelope with 'For my son David'. I had no idea what it contained and I discovered it was a diary he had kept of his time overseas. The first page reads -

'Having found this old book in a pile of rubble (an old accountant's book) in Aardenburg, Holland I have decided to keep some record of events. The newspapers state that we are making history. However the average soldier is not concerned with history although he may help create it. He is concerned with the events that happen to him and around him and what he sees rather than what the papers say that he sees.'

My father spent one month travelling through northern France, into Belgium and then into Holland. He found himself on the Belgium/Dutch border.

'Well we've reached our new location after half a day and we found a lot of Gerry equipment in a nearby dug-out together with numerous bodies killed by shell-fire . . .
one of the bodies was lying near to the entrance of the dug-out with one leg nearly severed by a shell splinter and the contents of his pockets were strewn about nearby - no doubt someone had been through them and left the residue in disgust. Amongst these neglected items were a couple of photographs which I have stuck on the opposite page to illustrate this account. He looks quite a decent fellow from the photo and again it was impressed upon me what a silly bloody mess this is - men lobbing explosives over at each other and burrowing in the ground like rabbits.

I suppose each one of us never thinks that it can happen to him as Death is something which knocks out the other fellow. Anyway, the subject of the photograph is lying dead and mutilated outside a dug-out in flooded Holland whilst his treasured photos are now stuck in the diary of one of his enemies . . . to dwell on such things however is morbid over here. There would be no more wars if the fools at home on both sides didn't glamourise it.'

My father spent the next few weeks travelling through Holland treating and evacuating casualties. He then went to Breskens at the mouth of the River Scheldt.

5 November 1944

'We have a Gerry Medical Officer in the dug-out now. He seems very depressed but he's damned lucky to be treated as we treat him almost as one of us. Had a very interesting talk with him - my German is lousy but with the aid of a pencil and paper and diagrams we get on okay. He outlined a new German method for treating fracture of the shaft of long bones by inserting a soft metal tube into the medullory cavity via a hole drilled through the compact and caucellous bones leading to medulla. Claims this is superior to external splinting by plastercast and that fractured tibiai can walk painlessly after two days.'

By 22nd December 1944 my father was in Gangelt, a village just inside Germany. He was housed in a convent in the centre of the village. He writes -

'The nun who showed us the available rooms spoke very good English and I asked her if she was German. She said "no, Welsh". Sister Bernadette, a Welsh girl of about 22 from Ebbw Vale who was captured over here when the Germans came. Apparently she was over here studying and her last convent was burned down. She's very nice and in fact far too nice to be a nun. It's amazing to find someone from one's own country as soon as one enters Germany. I wonder if we can invite her to sing with us on Xmas Day. The other nuns are all German and no doubt would not approve.'

My father's account of Christmas Day is very telling.

25 December 1944

'Start morning going back and forth across frontier with 15cwt ferrying chairs from Gerry houses to seat our assembly at Dinner.

The Commanding Officer came up this morning with the beer and addressed the men. The Assistant Director Medical Services also came up when I was out on a 'looting raid'. We don't give a damn about taking German property as they've taken everything from these people and if we can use German goods to better our Christmas - so be it!

The room (our MI room) looked terrific with rows of beer bottles (NAAFI) and tablecloth laden with wine glasses, apples, oranges, chocolate, sweets and pies, etc. The men donated their chocolate issue to the kids so we've done up 5 bundles of chocolate in red crepe paper and tied them on to the Xmas tree; each has the kiddies name on it . . .Xmas Dinner, a great success . . . I made a short speech which was a hell of a job and then we had the King and started smoking German cigars. Major Lind then arrived with a huge bag of mail very opportunely and this was greeted with cheers. I got the 'British Medical Journal' but managed to regard it as a Xmas present.'

One of my father's last entries in the diary was written when he was posted east of Bremen. He writes -

4 May 1945

'A general capitulation of all enemy troops in Europe has been announced to come into effect from 8.00 am tomorrow . . . The significance of Norway is our big query in this Division as they do not appear to be going to surrender.'

8 May 1945

15.30 pm Churchill has just announced the "ceasefire" in Europe so the war here is finished and we now have Japan only left . . . I think the Division is going to Norway and I hope I don't get drafted to Burma before this happens. It's hard to realise that it's all over. We all lay on the grass in the sunlight round the 22 set to hear Churchill's speech in the orchard. German civilians are everywhere looking cheerful or neutral - none openly hostile. They are glad it's over but we are strictly forbidden to fraternise . . . it seems impossible that there will be no more shelling or mortaring in store for us.'

My father's diary is very detailed and a telling account of how the war affected both soldiers and civilans alike and in particular how it affected him. It is a wonderful gift to bestow on one's child.

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