大象传媒

I was a captain in the Royal Signals and during the period of 1942-43 we were stationed in Inverary, Scotland. Our training involved getting in and out of landing craft but we didn't know why. We were then moved to Forres and onto Fort George (outside Inverness). We were now involved in joint operations with the Navy, still unaware of our final goal.

In 1943-44 I was shown a partial map of a coastline without being told where it was. My brief was to draw up the signal plans for an assault. I just considered this another instruction and got on with it. On completion (having used teams of sheets of foolscap), we practised the assault with the Navy at Burghead Bay. Even in practice, live ammunition was used and we were told it would land approximately two feet away from us - at least that was the theory!

Early in June 1944 we were told we were going to France and our objective was Gold Beach. We were shipped out on HMS Goathland. As we neared the coast and waited for the assault brigade signal, I wondered what the terrain would be like. When the coded message was received, we were told to get into the landing craft, which was supposed to take us to the beach. However, there were concerns about grounding, and so it was decided to stop some distance from the shore. We had to wade ashore, up to our necks in water. As we reached the beach I was absolutely fuming because in my pocket I had a 1lb of Navy issue pipe tobacco completely ruined by sea water!

My earlier concern over what we would find on landing was immediately quelled as it was exactly like Burghead Bay. On being ashore a couple of hours, a shell landed among 12 of us, killing four and injuring the rest - the whole brigade intelligence section had been wiped out. You heard shells flying past you to the side and overhead, but the saying 'You never hear the one that hits you,' is perfectly true as none of us heard this one.

I received treatment at the field hospital and shortly afterwards the Brigadier told me that he had seen a soldier in previous battle lose his hands with the same wounds. So I was sent back to England for treatment. After a period I returned to France on an American Corvette and rejoined the division at Falaise Gap. The Germans were retreating - I thought 'Good riddance!' but of course we had to go after them to advance...

I never had any doubt of the outcome and that we would all return home. It was an interesting experience, not as frightening as you would think. The thing that sticks mostly in my mind was the noise - absolutely terrible.

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