大象传媒

Continued from part 1.

This contribution to WW2 People's War website was received by the Action Desk at 大象传媒 Radio Norfolk, with the permission and on behalf of Edward Lees and submitted to the website by the Wymondham Learning Centre.

We left Rome and were taken south of Florence, eating peaches straight from the trees. I was in charge of the Bren-gun-carrier platoon, and my own transport was a 250 cc Matchless motorbike, which scared me, as you couldn't hear anything coming (shells for example) above the engine noise. We advanced to Prada, where we were showered with Vivas and flowers, but had to push on.

We came to a long road past fields and I sent my sergeant forward to recce with two other soldiers. They were nearly out of sight when they were shot at. Two were killed and the sergeant came back wounded. I can't remember what happened after that, other than that we were the first infantry troops to enter Florence, crossing a Bailey bridge over the river Arno. All the bridges except the Ponte Vecchio had been destroyed. (When I visited Florence some fifty years later, they had an exhibition of photos from that time showing the British Troops entering the city. So I could stand in front of them saying I was there - 鈥淜ilroy Was Here鈥�.

Our first local spot was near the Hippodrome (race track), which seemed to be an execution area for local banditti. Near a factory we came to what seemed to be allotments. There were two footpaths. My partisan guide took one and I the other. After about ten yards he stepped on a Schuh mine and his foot was blown off. I stupidly collected him and took him back to our start line. I must have been round the twist, walking into a minefield.

Our next objective was Bologna. We made our way through the mountains, complete with mules. We were amazed at the way the muleteers treated their animals. If they fell down under the weight of their packs the poor beasts were beaten relentlessly with sticks until, much to our amazement, they stood up and carried on.

The battalion took positions on the crest of a mountain overlooking a valley. My platoon was sent to a small cottage halfway down the mountain as a forward observation post. I was sitting just inside an open door covered in camouflage netting trying with my field glasses to see any movement in front when I felt a bang on my right knee and found that I had been shot by a sniper.

I was carried back up the mountain on a stretcher, given morphine and taken to a hospital in Assisi. There were lots of UK nurses, who were very strict, especially when the Physios were demonstrating the method of exercising my muscles with some kind of electric machine. I was given an injection in the buttocks every four hours from a large syringe. I wonder if it was the first use of penicillin? Eventually I went to a Red Cross convalescent centre for officers in the private house of Beniamino Gigli, the then famous opera singer, at Porto Recanati. For what must have been three weeks, we played bridge all day and poker during the evenings. One visitor who joined the parties was the NOIC (Naval Officer in Command) from Ancona. Gigli wasn鈥檛 there himself but his staff had stayed on, and served us with wonderful food. It was the best pasta that I have ever tasted. I had my twenty-first birthday there and they gave me a wonderful party.

When I was discharged from the centre I was told to go to Biano re-allocation centre near Naples, and as I was an officer I had to make my own way there. All I had at that time was a backpack. I thumbed lifts to Rome, where I stayed in an officers鈥� transit hotel for about a week, and finally arrived at Biano. Would I like to go back to my own lot who were still fighting, or to 5 Corps HQ defence company? Yes please to 5 Corps HQ! I was not very brave, and still am afraid of being killed.

As usual, when posted to 5 Corps HQ Defence Company I was not given many instructions other than 鈥済o north.鈥� I remember one town that might have been Sienna. Eventually I arrived at the new company, whose duties were to secure the corps HQ and also look after POWs. We had to learn the words 鈥渟chnell鈥� (鈥渉urry up鈥�) and 鈥渓angsham鈥� (鈥渟low down鈥�).

While near Forli, I stupidly played Rugby. This was OK until I tried to kick a ball, when I was reminded of my wounded knee and had to quit rather quickly. We were playing against the Irish Horse on St Patrick鈥檚 Day, and afterwards adjourned to a bank building in Forli requisitioned as an officers鈥� club. A small group of us were standing on the balcony of this building cleverly pouring beer over those underneath, when we noticed a senior MP (military policeman) just behind us, and exited smartly. We were very lucky to get away with it.

When the Germans packed it in the company was given a day off to visit Venice, but I was sent with a 15 cwt truck, sergeant, driver and batman to recce a company location in Austria. This was summer, 1945. We were following some of the armoured division when we came across a truck containing four girls from the WVS. I think one was called Evelyn Turner. She came from Preston I think. I always called her Bambi.

I secured a company position in an orchard beside a pub in a village called P枚rtschach, on Lake W枚rthersee in Carinthia. The four WVS girls were billeted a couple of miles along the lake. We actually used a water truck to bring in beer 鈥� very naughty. The soldiers were intrigued to see the harvest being worked by young ladies in their underwear (I, of course, took no notice).

I was sent home for twenty-eight days advanced LIAP leave. [Leave In Addition to Python. 鈥淧ython鈥� was the codename for leave given to troops due for home posting after four or more years abroad.] Just before I left we voted in the General Election of 1945. We were all Labour then, having been told they were offering something different, other than 鈥渢rust us again.鈥� The trip home was by train, six officers in a compartment. I鈥檒l always remember Domodossola, where we were given boiled eggs for breakfast.

During this leave I went to Bognor Regis to stay with aunt Margaret, who with her in laws owned a small hotel. On the way I went to the bar at Waterloo Station, and there was Jack Whiteley on leave from Germany 鈥� a coincidence, to put it mildly.

I returned from leave by train via Milan, to be told that my company had been disbanded and I was to join the Black Watch in Greece. They were at Kifissia on the northern outskirts of Athens. We were billeted on local families and I was with the Xanthos family. (After the war my wife Beryl took a telephone call at Great Yarmouth from Lythia Xanthos. She rang only once 鈥� I think Beryl gave her a right heave-ho!!)

The CO decided to hold a sports day for the troops, and I was selected to be the sports officer. One new officer, Tom Graveney, who could play rather a decent game of cricket, was a great help. The sports day was held round a swimming pool, and when I told the CO we had no competitors for the twelve-foot diving board he volunteered me to demonstrate. I鈥檇 never done it before, and haven鈥檛 since.

The Battalion was sent to Volos on the east coast of Greece, halfway towards Salonika, where we were part of a Brigade detachment. The locals were still fighting each other 鈥� the KKE party versus the KKE External.

When I first arrived I was interviewed by the CO, who asked 鈥淒o you play bridge?鈥� and 鈥淒o you dance?鈥� We had mess nights once a week and always invited the two naval officers from the locally based torpedo boat. The pipe major played during dinner and after dinner he played tunes such as 鈥淪trip the Willow鈥�, 鈥淧etrinella鈥� and of course the eightsome reel, for dancing.

I was given the job of Mess PMC [President, Mess Committee], PRI [President, Regimental Institute] Officers Transit Club and RTO [Railway Transport Officer]. As PRI I was in charge of the Regimental NAAFI [Navy, Army and Air Force Institutes] club. At this time a new officer, Lt Geoffrey Newlands from the Manchester Regiment, joined us. He had been transferred to the Black Watch when his machine-gun regiment was disbanded. His peacetime job had been with the District Bank. Together we managed to sort out the NAAFI finances, selling supplies from the club compo packs to the locals in exchange for eggs. Newlands was promoted to brigade HQ and became brigade major. We kept in touch.

We also had the job of distributing UNRRA [United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration] food parcels to the outlying islands using the RN ship. On arriving at an island we were met by men with mules and taken up to the village, where the local Papa would supply hooch brewed there. The local saying was 鈥渙ne for the left foot and one for the right foot.鈥�

One of my jobs in Volos was acting town mayor, and one of my duties as liaison with the local authorities was to inspect the local brothels, of which there were more than thirty. About once a month I took a Jeep with a sergeant and driver to visit them, sharing a brandy and nuts (truly) with the madam while my men cleared out the customers, some of whom of course were our own soldiers. The German army had set up official houses and the girls had a medical inspection on Sundays, when they would all walk past the church parade saying hello to the officers, but seeing the state of the girls, who really looked terrible, put me off taking my business to a brothel for evermore.

In my job as RTO I got into serious trouble when a troop ship arrived from Athens on route to Salonika. I was told to disembark some 350 Royal West Kent soldiers, but the major in charge of the ship said the orders had been changed, and instead of disembarking they all went off to Salonika. Needless to say I was in the wrong. I should have held up the ship and sent a message to brigade HQ, but I though the last order was the one to follow. The brigadier was not at all happy to have 350 soldiers in Salonika instead of Volos, and it was all my fault. I expect that will be on my record.

Our next move was back to the outskirts of Athens at he beginning of 1946, when I was sent home on compassionate leave because my father was very ill. I flew along the Italian coast in a DC3. My father died, aged forty-six, and I was sent back to my regiment in Athens via Toulon and then by sea. On route there was a case of polio on board so we were disembarked at Malta. We took over an established regimental mess. All the troops were put into training and as I was a captain by this time I was appointed acting adjutant in charge of part 1 and part 2 orders, walking around with a stick under my arm while the others were running up and down hills.

After about three weeks we sailed on to Port Said, where I developed tonsillitis and was transferred to El Kabir General Hospital. The base was also the headquarters of REME [Royal Electrical and Mechanical Engineers] and I asked the ward sister whether she knew an old friend of mine, Staff Sergeant Derrick Hurst. Much to my surprise, she was engaged to him. I was invited to the sergeants鈥� mess, where I made my name winning a game of table tennis.

After all these delays, when I finally arrived in Athens I found that my demob number (45) had, as they say, come up. The authorities said I must wait in Athens transit camp and hope to get my personal luggage sent on from my regimental HQ. I contacted the regiment and they sent a Jeep, so I managed to collect my bits and pieces.

I arrived at the demob centre, collected my grey chalk-striped demob suit and went home on December 10th 1946, almost five years to the day after I had first volunteered on my birthday in December 1941.

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