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Now we were to leave the coast, spending a mere fortnight in Rye, where we had one of our guns on the slimy, muddy bank of the river Rother.

Next into Kent to Mersham, some 4 miles from Ashford, where we were given a degree of toughening-up exercises and having to stand at attention for a long period of time, within the grounds of a large estate nearby, the purpose of which became known later on.

It was here that I received the shock news that my brother, Tony, aged 20, had been killed whilst transporting ammunition in Libya, on 27th May, 1942. He had added two years to his age in order to join up, possibly because he felt out of it once I had joined the Army.

As a grand finale, the Divisional Cross-country Championships were to be held near Folkestone, over a distance of 6.25 miles. The teams entering consisted of several Olympic runners. It later turned out to have been 8.25 miles, a mistake having been made, and it included clambering up a very steep mound.

As a team we apparently gave a very satisfactory performance, and in commemoration thereof, a medal was struck with the name of each runner engraved on the milled edge of same.

Our final destination in England was at Blackwater, near Camberley, Surrey.

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