大象传媒

Some years ago my father, Sidney Climpson, wrote down some of his World War Two experiences. He died at Christmas and I would like to add his story to the archive, as the war had such an effect on his entire life. These are his words, exactly as he wrote them in an old exercise book.

When I was about 16 (1937) I went with my mate Charlie Winterbourne from Rosedale Avenue, Hayes End, where I lived, and joined the Territorial Army at Southall. They used to call us the 'Saturday night soldiers', but it was very good to have somewhere to go. It was a searchlight battalion and was very interesting.

We went to a 14-day camp near Cambridge in the summer and everyone was talking about war but this country was nowhere near prepared.

Charlie and I were in the Corinth cinema in Hayes one night in 1938 when our names appeared on the screen to go to the entrance where we met Charlie's dad who said, 'Come on, you've got to report to the drill hall right away.' We went home, got our uniforms on, had something to eat and off we went.

When we got to the drill hall it was really crazy - the road was crowded with people and we could hardly get to the gates. It was about 10 o'clock and blokes were sitting around on their kitbags. No one knew what was going on until about midnight when we got into a lorry behind which was towed our searchlight.

We went to a farmhouse about a mile past Ruislip and there we set up our searchlight. The farmhouse had only oil lamps and we had to go to a house near a main road, as it was the nearest one with a phone. One of the section had to sit on a chair inside the hall for any orders from HQ. Anyway, after a week we were sent home again - panic over. We went back to work and everything went on as normal.

During this period I used to play football with a local team, and when I told the captain that I was going to join the army he thought I was mad. One night I was cycling back from work I saw my mate Charlie Winterbourne and we got talking and one thing led to another and I said 'Let's go to Hounslow Barracks and join the army.' On the way to Hounslow we met another of our mates, Maurice Womburn, and he came with us. When we got to Hounslow the recruiting sergeant told us we'd have to come back the next day as I was under age and would have to get my parents' permission.

After a lot of talking and 'Do you know what you're doing?' from my parents, my dad signed the forms and told me I'd made my bed and had to lie on it. Over the years I have often thought of those words - at the time I though I knew it all, but in the peacetime army it was alright. All three of us went to each of our houses and saw our parents; they all said much the same thing but didn't object.

When our friends found out another one, Albert Blackwell, said he would come with us. He was also in the TA, but as he was eighteen and a half he could do what he liked.

After a day or two we went back to Hounslow Barracks, passed the medical and they sent us to the Berkshire Regiment at Reading. The reason we had to go into the Berkshire Regiment was that we were going into the Supplementary Reserve, which meant we would do six months' training and six years reserve service with a fortnight's training every year, or transfer to regular when we were 18. I thought it was a good thing that we could get out if we wanted to if it was no good.

Our time started on 21 February 1939 and we finished on 22 August at Blackdown near Aldershot. We had not been home a week when we got a telegram to report back to Brock Barracks at Reading, which we did. I came out of the army in 1946 with no reserve time to do.

When we went to Reading it was a funny feeling when the 4 of us went from home (we all lived in the same street), but it didn't worry us. I think it was knowing that the army would look after us and it was right. We had tickets from Hayes Station via Waterloo and when we got to Reading a corporal was there to meet us and we went on a tram to the Brock Barracks.

We were given a few words from the corporal, shown our barrack room and given some tea, and then drew our sheets and blankets.

The next morning we met our squad sergeant, Hooky Walker. He frightened the life out of us, but he was one of the best NCOs - he had to be as he was a 22-year-serving career man. It turned out to be one of the best times - everything was easygoing as long as you behaved yourself.

I had a short spell in the cookhouse, mainly washing up and dishing out the food to the troops. I used to dish out the cocoa and biscuits for supper, and needless to say our squad never went short of biscuits. Well, we only got 5 shillings a week - the other 9 shillings went into your savings and one week a month you had extra money for cleaning stuff, boot polish, brasso, soap and blanco for your equipment. You got your savings money when you went on leave, also a travel warrant twice a year.

After we had learned how to salute and march properly we had plenty of time to ourselves, but if you wanted to go out on the town you had to pass the inspection at the gates. The bugler was a right little so-and-so - if he said you weren't to go out, that was it. He would make you take your cap badge out to see if you had cleaned the back of it. Those sort of things didn't happen after you left the depot and went to Blackdown into the 1st Battalion, which we did on the last month of training.

If we were not out on training in the fields and woods, we had all weekend and Wednesday afternoon off, and the rest of the week we finished about 4pm - it was a real cushy time.

At the end of six months we had to go in front of the commanding officer, Lt.Col. Dempsey, who told us that we were first class soldiers and he thought we would soon be back with the army. He was dead right - about two weeks later we received our call up papers to report to Brock Barracks in Reading. A few days later, on 3 September 1939, war was declared and lots of reservists who had been in India in peacetime were sent to France with the 1st Battalion, and with them was one of our mates, Albert Blackwell. He was captured at Dunkirk and was a POW, but I never saw him again.

When we were at Reading lots of people were sent to different regiments, but Maurice and I were sent to the 6th Battalion Royal Berks Regiment, a TA battalion. Most of the lads had been working on farms in Berkshire and had joined the 'terrors' for something to do. We both went to A company and our job was guarding airfields for the RAF. I was on guard every night for a month and then a week in a big house near Reading where we had an easy time, then back to another airfield for the same thing.

About the beginning of 1940 we were sent down to Southampton to guard German POWs. They were all German merchant seamen and had been captured by our navy on ships, trying to get back to Germany when the war started. They were a real tough lot and we were like a lot of school kids. After a few weeks we had to take them by train to a camp in the Midlands. We then had a second lot come in and after a few weeks we had to take them to another POW camp up north.

When we got back this time there weren't any more prisoners to look after so we went training on a long route march. We had to sleep in the open and the next day they marched us back to Southampton. When we got back we were told that the Germans had got through to France and we were trying to get our soldiers off the beaches at Dunkirk. We were billeted in a school that night and the next day told we'd be moving again.

No one would say where we were going, but we ended up in Northern Ireland. I had some leave in 1940 and it was a very long journey from Larne to Stranraer in Scotland where we used to catch a train to London. It was worked out that the leave trains used to get to London about 8 o'clock or when it was light because of the bombing and damage to stations in the Midlands. I was lucky that I didn't get caught in the raids, except once when we had to bail out of the train and walk through the roads near King's Cross.

After the Yanks came over to fight the Germans (or us - I don't know which) we had to clear out of the camps in Londonderry and move to another place, until eventually we came back to England. We moved all over the place, training for the second front.

England was full of soldiers, sailors and airmen from all over the world - it was like being abroad with all the different uniforms we used to see.

During 1942 or '43, we started to send reinforcements to other regiments fighting in North Africa and also to Burma. I missed going on these drafts as I was in the boxing team and they liked to keep us together as long as they could.

When the second front started in Normandy we were stationed in Kent and after a week they moved us to a camp near Newhaven in Sussex and then on a ship to France. The camp we stayed in the night before we sailed was in the middle of a wood and we couldn't get out of it. The military police were surrounding the perimeter to stop any deserters. There were some chaps there from the 8th army in Africa. They had been given leave when they got back to England and a lot of them had had enough, but of course they were caught and they were in a sort of prison within the camp.

That night the canteen was open and all of the Berkshires got drunk, including me. Well, we had been together for about 4 years and we knew we wouldn't be seeing each other for a long time, if ever, and it worked out like that.

We got to Newhaven harbour in the morning and were soon loaded on a landing ship. We were packed like sardines below the decks. We were allowed on deck once we sailed and it was a sight to see all the different types of ships. All the navy was there. Once we were in the channel we were in convoy and didn't get to France until the next morning.

When we got to Normandy there were lots of wrecked ships close to the beaches, so we were thankful we hadn't been there on D-day. We went down steps on the sides of the ship onto a pontoon, which was going up and down. Good job it was calm or we would have fallen into the water. This pontoon was about 50 yards long and was in small sections. We had to jump from section to section until we got nearer the beach, and only got our feet wet. As we got to shore there were stacks of stores and ammo with soldiers loading it onto lorries.

As we got onto land we had to walk round a wooden house at the edge of the sand dunes and follow a narrow road where we saw notices in German warning about mines. They had a skull painted in white, with the words 'Achtung Minen' on them. We made sure we kept to the road after that.

After a march of a couple of miles we got to a field and were told that we'd be there for the night. Me and my mate Bob got together and made a tent with our ground sheets and then wandered about having a look around. We went out of the field and came to a main road with directions in English put up by the military police, and one said 2 miles to Bayeux, so off we went, all unofficial of course.

When we got there we couldn't get into the town as there were notices saying it was out of bounds. We were sent back by a military policeman. That was our first look at France.

We got back to our camp, or near it, when all at once two military police on motor bikes came rushing past us, then a big car with General Montgomery in it. That was the only time I saw him - I never forgot it though.

When we got back to camp we were just in time for tea and the next morning we were told that some of us would be sent to different regiments. I was sent with about 30 others to the King's Own Scottish Borderers, but my mate Bob was not going with us. It was a sorry moment when we got in the lorry and left our mates but we couldn't do anything about it. I never saw Bob again.

We got into the lorry in charge of an officer, very young he was. Everyone was very quiet as none of us had been in action before. We had not gone far when we heard gunfire and the lorry suddenly stopped. The officer came round the back and shouted to us to bale out quick. We didn't ask why - we could hear the guns. We got in a ditch at the side of the road, and stopped there until we were led up the road to an orchard and told to dig in.

We were told the Germans had broken through our lines in the night and we were now at the battalion HQ of the KOSB. Nobody told us anything more, but we could still hear firing down the road we had been going along, and we were lucky we hadn't run straight into the German lines.

We started digging trenches near the edge of the orchard and as it got towards night we were told to move out and another Scottish regiment took over our positions. We were then split into different companies, so I didn't see much of those blokes again.

Most of my mates went into rifle companies, but when they asked if anyone had been in an anti-tank platoon I said yes and was taken into the support company. I went into a section that had lost a bloke from the gun that had stopped a German tank the night before. It was very strange going to a Scots regiment, but there were some English and Welsh blokes.

The sergeant in charge was a Londoner and as time went on I had to go with him as a runner. We used to go with the rifle company and when they had advanced their positions and dug in I would go back and lead the two guns to where he was, with his gun going in one place and my section gun in another position.

My section was in the charge of Corporal Bob Palmer, a nice bloke. We used to dig in together. We had a dispatch rider between the two sections and he waited while things quietened down. I had many a bumpy ride with him, as the enemy had started to shell us when they realised we were moving up our infantry.

Anyway our system worked well and even in night attack I used to link up with him, but it was more difficult then as you could get lost as you were diving down to escape the shells, and you could easily miss each other. The guns were six-pounders towed by a Bren gun carrier, a small armoured vehicle with caterpillar tracks.

The most memorable thing about Normandy was the smell of dead cattle lying nearly everywhere we went. There were these cows with their legs sticking straight up and their bodies blown up like balloons with loads of flies round them, it was horrible. The weather was very hot.

At last we pushed the Germans back and they started to break up along the Normandy line, and then the yanks started to chase them. We were moving day after day until we got to the River Seine and had a few days of rest. Then on again through Belgium, where the Germans held us on the Escaut canal where we lost a lot of our mates.

After that we went on to Holland. It was raining and cold weather until Christmas 1944 when we were in a town called Venlo on the River Mass. We stayed there for 10 days and were then taken back to the rear where we had our Christmas dinner on the 3rd of January.

We were getting close to the German border and the Germans were getting more aggressive. Their artillery was heavier and we were getting anxious, as we could see that the war was getting near to finishing and everyone was getting jumpy (me included). Anyway we pushed on and luckily I didn't get hurt.

The Germans surrendered on the 8th of May 1945, so it had taken us about 10 months to push them from France and we were about 30 miles from Hamburg. I was moved around from place to place until I got back to Hayes about a year later.

When I got home it was as if I hadn't been away at all. All my mates gradually came back from the war, except one who'd been lost at sea. We all had a night boozing and then everyone seemed to disappear, except for my mate Charlie Winterbourne - we stayed mates for a long time.

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