大象传媒

Beach鈥檚 War Chapter 4 Part 1鈥� The Break Through at Monte Cassino

Note: A volunteer on behalf of Fred Beacham has entered this story. The author has seen and agreed to the People's War House Rules.

Another night passed slowly. At about half past three, the enemy started to shell our positions with the largest calibre shells that I had heard from their side. They came in like an express train pulling into a station and erupted in a tremendous explosion. I virtually shrank into the ground with fear. My ears strained for the first sound of the next incoming shell, which was not long in coming. This one came in, with an even louder sound, or so it seemed to me and I felt like getting up and running like hell. But where could I go? That shell burst no more than five yards away, vibrating the earth and sending clods of earth in all directions, which fell down upon us like rain. I listened for the next one and prayed 鈥淥h God, don't let me die yet, I promise that I will always be good, if you let me live.鈥� and I really meant it. The next shell came in and went a little further on this time. "Thank God," I thought, my prayers have been answered. The shelling, as far as we were concerned stopped. If it had not, I might well have died of sheer fright.

I had not eaten at all since before I left to go to the riverbank and I still did not have an appetite. I was thirsty though and drank almost all my water in the morning, as we waited for eleven o鈥檆lock to arrive. The time passed so slowly and was as hot as hell. Lying there in that drainage, or irrigation furrow, I dreamt of home. What was my mother doing at that moment in time? Doing the washing? Or, peeling potatoes in readiness for dinner? It all seemed terribly unreal. My being where I was with the drone of insects, the occasional rumble of the guns and of course, the spotter plane, our friend above us.

As the time approached eleven, I tried to relax my stiff muscles a little and prepared my Bren gun. It seemed that only seconds went by, before whistles sounded and as one man, we rose to our feet and began to run forward. The machine guns began to open up at once and the crack of bullets, as they sometimes passed close by my ears almost made one deaf. I had no idea what was happening on either side of me. As I ran, I knew that Bill was still with me and looking ahead, I saw the ground was flat, except that these irrigation furrows, which ran parallel with the river for a distance of about 400 yards. The ground then sloped gently upwards to where the enemy was 'dug in.' I could see no movement at all, simply hear the sound of bullets as they ripped by us. I don't think that we had covered more than 100 yards or so, when, with no orders being given, the rest of the Company and myself dropped into another of these irrigation furrows (thank God they were there!). Puffing and panting with exertion and fear, we tried to get our breath back. The enemy kept up a constant stream of machine-gun fire, in the general direction of our new position. Because we were that much closer to him, he was able to traverse the far side of the ditch. We found ourselves pressed against the side nearest the enemy. There we were in a much worse position than before and wondering what to do about it.

After a few minutes, a whispered 鈥榦rder鈥� went from man to man. We were to make our own way, in our own time, back to our original starting line. I waited with Bill until we got our breath back and then I told him on the count of 'three,' to get up and 'run like hell.' I counted and did we run. The thought of bullets ripping into my back, made sure that we did. Bullets ripped by us as we ran back and it seemed to me to be longer returning than going for it. The hair seemed to stand on end at the back of my neck and eventually we made it to our original starting line.

From start to finish, I do not suppose that we had been more than twenty minutes. It seemed like twenty hours, but I was grateful to be back in one piece. After that, we just lay there. I finished off the water and felt completely exhausted, as the hot sun beat down on us once again. I began to wonder when the Germans would counter-attack and finish us off? After all, we were in no position really to defend ourselves. We could be massacred. We were unable to see, unless we knelt, or stood up and we were unable to retreat. I suppose with the Germans, heavily engaged on other sections of the front, nothing happened, other than the odd shell, or two, bursting in a bit further along the bank from where we were.

The hours dragged by. All my water was finished, I was getting thirsty. I would have to go without. I was much too dry for eating, so I remained both hungry and thirsty. Still I was alive, wasn鈥檛 I? The afternoon came and went almost like the day before. Night closed in on us, once more. I slept at times during that night, out of sheer exhaustion.

It did not seem long before the sun rose again. The early morning mist was a godsend, but it cleared much too quickly, as far as I was concerned and soon it was hot again. I think that it was around 10 o'clock, when we heard the sound of heavy vehicles to our front and the whisper went around quickly that the tanks were coming. I thought this is it; crushed into the ground by arriving tanks. . There could be no escape, when someone said the tanks could be 鈥榦urs.鈥� The noise grew louder and the word went around they were our tanks. The Canadian Armoured Brigade had at last been able to cross the bridge that the engineers had thrown across at the village of San Angelo. They had come up behind the slight ridge to our front, and the enemy gunners had made a hasty retreat.

I stood up and looked around me for the first time since the battle had started. Away to my left, I could see part of the bridge over which the tanks crossed, still subjected to heavy enemy artillery fire. Our forces to conceal it, had put down smoke, but the enemy had ranged very accurately. I would have hated to be with them, at that point in time.

I looked to my right and there, lying face down and obviously dead, was our Company Commander. Walking forward, only a few yards, I recoiled, as I nearly stepped on the bodies of four dead Fusiliers. The furrow they had been sheltering in had been slightly wider than mine had and they were lying in pairs, instead of singly, as we had been. I could see no sign of injury to their bodies. It was obvious that the large shell had slammed right into their furrow, about one yard away from the heads of the first two, then sucked the breath out of their lungs, causing instant collapse and death. The shell in question had almost certainly been the one that showered us all with debris, the night before last.

I hastened on. By now, the rest of my platoon was a little distance in front of me. As I looked even further to my right, I saw two more Fusiliers lying out in the open. One of them moved. I went to them and recoiled in sheer horror at the sight. One was dead, his name 鈥� Bartholomew. Lying face down, he was still clutching his rifle. He was an 'old-time' soldier, having served on the North West Frontier of India. As far as I was aware, he had volunteered to be a sniper. A burst of machine-gun fire had struck him on the left side of his head. As a result, the side of his brain had slipped out on to the grass. As I went nearer, a swarm of flies arose from his body. I turned my attention to the other long serving soldier, and was an inseparable pal to the dead man. His name was Vinnicombe. I could see that he had severe wounds to his legs, one which was practically hanging off, he had lost a tremendous amount of blood and he looked up at me and whispered 鈥淕ive me a drink mate鈥�. I had no water left in my bottle and when I shook his there was none either. I tried the bottle carried by his dead companion, it was also empty. I looked at him; it was clear to me that he was dying and there was no water to hand. I retraced my steps to the nearest drainage furrow and saw a small amount of water there. It was obviously not too clean, but I did collect some of it in my water bottle and returned to him. I knelt down and cradled his head in my arms, as gently as I could. He made no sound and looked at me as I placed the water bottle to his lips to moisten them. He took the smallest of sips and said 鈥淭hanks a lot mate鈥�. He closed his eyes and died. I laid him on the ground and went back towards the furrow, where I had fetched the water.

I had spotted another soldier, lying in the furrow a little further along, with a leg wound. He was soaked in water from the bottom of the furrow and in a very bad way. He asked me to help him get out of the ditch as he was cold and shivering. I gently rolled him out and upon leaving him, a bullet smacked into the nearby ground. I looked around, but could see no sign of anyone and about to leave him once more, when a bullet cracked by. It was obvious then that a sniper was around and trying his marksmanship out, on either me, or the wounded soldier. I bent down and said, 鈥淪orry mate, but you had better go back in again鈥� and rolled him as gently as I could back into the ditch. I could see that a medical team was attending to the wounded down by the river. I told him that they would soon be coming. I hailed them to go to him and left...

I looked towards the top of the ridge and could see that some of my Company were still there. I suddenly felt a chill running down my spine at the thought of walking towards them. There must surely be many mines between them and me. I began almost to wish that I had not left them. However, walking as gingerly as a ballet dancer does in hob-nailed boots, I made my way to the top of the ridge, stopping only to look into one of the enemy slit trenches that had held us for so long with such grievous casualties. That particular position had suffered not at all from our artillery bombardment, despite all the given talks before the attack took place.

I joined up with the rest of my Company or, should I say, what was left of them. As far as I can recall, there were twelve other ranks, two NCOs and one officer left of 'B' Company. We were now so thirsty, that despite the risk of drinking contaminated water, we drew a bucket of water from a well and I drank long and hard from it.

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