大象传媒

The crossing of the channel was uneventual and we landed at Boulogne, France. We boarded a train and arrived at our destination, which was a huge field where we had to erect large tents. Beavau(?) was the nearest town.

Once we were settled we were told our job was to help build a railway track to the Maginot line which was the French defence line. How far this was I had no idea. So far there was no word of any German advance.

Each morning we paraded to collect our picks and shovels, then marched off to complete the next small section of track. This went on for a week or more, until, on parade as usual, our sergeant asked for volunteers who would like to become dispatch riders. Dennis and I both decided to have a go. Dennis was quite capable on his motorbike. Myself, I prefer 4 wheels beneath me! I gave it a try and the next few days were spent riding up and down the road outside the camp. I must admit, I was not very good.

It then happened that word came through that the Germans had breached the French defences and moved through Belgium. Everything seemed undecided, in a state of flux. Each time we completed a part of the railway track, the Germans would bomb it. Thus ended the railway.

Dennis was taken on as a dispatch rider. I was left behind. With both of our futures so unsure, this saddened me. It was the last time I ever saw Dennis, and to this day I do not know if he survived the horrors of that war. Myself and approximately 10 other lads became a rear guard while the rest of the battalion left the camp for the front line. We would be rejoining our regiment in a few days. This was not to be. I never saw our battalion again.

The Germans had moved around the Maginot line and through Belgium. Those who had been left behind to guard the camp had very little to do. We would take it in turns to stand guard at the gates to the camp, protecting our tents and the belongings that remained there.

After 2 days we still had no news and uncertainty filled every man. We often heard rumblings from the road outside the camp. We cheered but had we known what was happening, we would not have. The road seemed full of tanks, lorries, field guns, all French. We assumed they were heading to the front. They were not. They were retreating as fast as they could, running away. But of course we had no news and so were unaware of the situation. The next day, still unaware as to what was happening, we were again standing at the gate to the camp. Realisation came that the French were running away. What were we to do? It was now 4 days since the battalion had left and still no word from them.

The next day we gathered at the gate again. We heard aircraft approaching and looking we saw about 6 planes. Of course we asumed they were British or French. We all started to wave and cheer. Alas, the next we knew, bombs were raining down around us. This was something none had ever experienced before, and our first real taste of war. When the camp was being built, a sump had been dug. We ran and leapt into it, covering our heads in case shrapnel should come our way. We all survived.

Although the German planes had long since gone and night had fallen, none of the men could sleep. We roamed the camp all night trying to decide what to do. Dawn came after what to me seemed an endless night, and again the men gathered at the gate. The corporal who was in charge was attempting to calm us down.

Suddenly we saw a figure coming towards us at a steady run. As he came nearer we realised with relief he was a major of our British army. When he reached us he said, 'What are you men doing here?' We explained the situation. He then said, 'Get out, get out as fast as you can. The Germans are only 2 miles down the road and advancing this way.'

After reading thus far, try within yourself to imagine how we felt, standing at that gate, hearing this news.

Nobody panicked as some would think. Picking up what little we could carry, we left the camp and headed in the direction of the closest railway station which was about half a mile down the road. As we neared the station a train was just pulling in. There seemed a lot of people rushing and confused, jostling each other to be the first to get on board the train. 8 of our men managed to board. Our corporal was calling for myself and another young man named John, who had become my friend, to get on board. I said to John, 'I'm not getting on that train, something is telling me not to.' John replied, 'I'm not getting on it either.'

The train pulled out. John and I stood there, now completely undecided as to what to do. The Germans were advancing behind us and we knew we had to evacuate this area somehow.

We noticed some army trucks heading off up the road. I said to John, 'Let's jump on one of those trucks.' He agreed and with help from those already on the truck, we managed to scramble n board. We were off , although we had no idea where they were headed, who these chaps were, or even whom the trucks belonged to. It was Bedlam. French guns were trying to get past us on the narrow road. As we drove along, the sky was coloured red from the fires started by the German bombs landing on the towns in the distance.

Everything was in turmoil around us. We passed French soldiers who were kneeling in the fields, praying. It was a sight that has and will always stay in my mind.

We travelled on that truck all day, stopping only to see if anybody remained in other camps and NAAFI tents along the way. But all were empty, everybody had already left. Several chaps helped themselves to the chocolate and cigarettes that were left behind. Anybody could of helped themselves. At last we stopped for the night. At some time during that day John and I were told that the train we had refused to board had been bombed. Had any survived, we never knew.

Eventually we were asked who we were nd where we came from. After telling this and explaining what had happened, we discovered we had joined up with an Irish anti-aircraft regiment, all of whom were volunteers and much older than both John and I. These men treated us with great kindness, sharing whatever food they had. We stayed with them for quite some time. It was a time we both enjoyed very much, and we helped wherever we could.

The regiment travelled all round France, setting up the guns for short periods, firing at German aircraft, and then moving on to another position, alhough each man knew it was hopeless. We constantly saw the French army retreating, not so much retreating as running away from the fighting. As our journey through France continued we often continued to see French soldiers kneeling in prayer, even as German bombs dropped about them.

These men treated John and I like one of them, so well indeed that we both decided if we were ever lucky enough to return to England, we would tr to remain with the Irish regiment. We had become very attached to them, as maybe only men facing such adverse conditions can.

One day we stopped at what we could only think was a staging camp. There was a vast number of soldiers from all different units. I overheard 2 young officers saying that they had run away from their units. In other words, deserted. John and I were both disgusted with them. We steered clear of them whenever possible. We did not remain at this camp for long. We were informed the guns were moving. Large lorries towed them and also had what was called R.D.F., which I later found out stood for radio direction finder, which as I understood, traced the aircraft. Whether any aircraft were shot down by the regiment, I could not tell you. But I do know these men were very good at their job. We continued our journey round France, still only stopping for a day or two at any one place, and always attempting to avoid being spotted by the German planes. Although I cannot speak for John, I at no time felt any fear being with the anti-aircraft regiment.

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