大象传媒

Our purpose there was to support the Partisans, who were harassing a corp. of German troops trying to return home from the south, and one day we had a visit from a party of them. They had required an old jeep with very doubtful tyres, and they came to see if we could supply them with something more reliable. As it happened, we had some used, but serviceable tyres which we had saved. After having a word with Johnny Johnson, we fixed them up.

This turned out to be a good move. They had come from a small town a few miles away and they asked if we would like to join them in the evening for a meal and a drink. Four of us went, and we arrived at this place, which was what we would describe as a town hall. There was a long, bare wooden table down the centre of the room and long wooden seats without a back. The table was laden with food. Chicken, Salads, Cheese, Bread rolls and bottles of wine.

We mixed in with our hosts as we sat down, there were seven or eight of them, and we made conversation in 鈥楶idgin Italian鈥�, and had a very good evening. We knew they were a wild bunch, even their women wore strings of hand grenades round their waist when walking down the street, but that knowledge did not prepare us for this experience. After the meal we went out into the town square and these chaps started pooping off their hand guns into the air and making hell of a racket. They had consumed a quantity of liquor of course!

I had admired a beautiful little Beretta automatic pistol that one of them was carrying. 鈥淚 will get you one鈥� he said. And would you believe it, he turned up at our camp a few days later and handed me a Beretta!

We were to spend Christmas 44 there. On Christmas morning I went over the road to see the boys and was invited to join a pontoon school. When I left they seemed to regret having given me the invitation. In the afternoon a party had been laid on for some local children which the boys had rounded up, and they all seemed to enjoy it. We did anyway!

Sometime into the New Year, a leave party was organised for about 30 men to go to Rome for two weeks, I was called into the office to receive the order to take charge.

We embarked on a LCI (landing aircraft infantry) this time, went back to Bari, where I was to report to HQ at the rest camp for further instructions. Two Lorries had been laid on for our transport, but before we left I called the chaps together for a little chat. There were some chaps there who were strangers to me, and I didn鈥檛 know if they could be trusted, so I explained to them about the accommodation reserved for us, the arrangements for meals and that I would insist on only one rule 鈥� there would be a roll call every morning (I had a list of names) If anyone was missing I would immediately report the matter to the nearest military police.

There was a full corporal in the party, who I didn鈥檛 know, and I asked him to take charge of the second lorry, we set off early the next morning, using the route which we were now used to. There were over 300 miles ahead of us, but we noticed that some of the boys were stocking up more tins of bully beef than I thought necessary. I asked my second in command if he had an explanation. Apparently the bully was intended for barter for commodities beyond the reach of soldiers in a foreign land!

Our route took us over to the west side of the country again, passing Caserta and travelling north we came to Monte Casino for the first time. We went straight through the main street and, apart from the road, which was now clear; the buildings on either side were simply heaps of rubble. It was quite a large town, and as we travelled through the street, we could see the monastery which had caused the allies so much trouble on the top of the hill ahead.

Our next stop, after making numerous enquiries, was the hotel which had been booked for us. It was a nice little place and we had no complaints, particularly bearing in mind some of the accommodation we had occupied already! And the next move was a good meal!

To arrive safely at our destination was a great relief, and the responsibility of mothering 30 plus young soldiers over two weeks was a daunting prospect. However, this was my first holiday for some time and I was determined to make the most of it. I took it easy the first day and then joined two of the chaps, bought a sightseer鈥檚 book on the city, and we visited as many of the more famous palaces and buildings as time allowed.

The coliseum was, for me, the most impressive of the ancient buildings, but of the churches, St.peters in the Vatican is the one to visit. We went to the Vatican because we were told that we would be able to visit the pope. We were escorted into the palace by the palace guards in their uniforms with yellow and blue stripes, along corridors to a very long chamber, with rails along each side about 10 or 12 feet from the walls. The visitors were ushered into place behind the rails, and when the pope came in, he was Pius XII by the way, and he was carried in on a bier seated on a throne at shoulder height.

He eventually dismounted and walked along the rails, blessing everyone in reach, and he spoke to some of the visitors in English. After leaving we walked round St. Peters square to view what we could see of the pope鈥檚 residence and the palace.

Other noticeable sights were the Parthenon, where royalty was buried, the Victor Emanuel monument with the unknown warrior鈥檚 tomb, and the trevi Fountain. This I think is one where people throw in coins. Rome is a wonderful city, full of monuments and works of art. I wonder if it would be possible to repeat the skills of the old artisans today.

After about ten days in Rome we had to think about returning to Dubrovnik. The roll call system had worked better than I hoped for, and there was no need to call in the military police! The stocks of bully seemed to be exhausted, and I think the chaps were ready to go back because Lira was in short supply!

We travelled back by roughly the same route and arrived back at the rest camp at Bari without further incident. The following morning I reported to HQ to receive orders for our return to Yugoslavia, and they told me we would have to dig in at the camp for a while because my company was planning to return to Italy. When I had time to consider this arrangement, I realised I was stuck with all these chaps for an indefinite period, with nothing to occupy their minds except getting into mischief!

I eventually called them together and explained the situation. I reactivated the holiday rule, and said we hadn鈥檛 got on very well whilst on holiday, and hoped they would not let me down now. And they didn鈥檛.

Whilst we are waiting for the return of the company, I would like to recall an incident which had occurred earlier in the campaign. Unfortunately, I do not remember where, or when!

Dusty was a private soldier with a heart of gold. When he had not been drinking that is! His surname was probably Miller, but I am not so sure. He told me one day that he had received a letter from his wife, who had said his son had broken a neighbour鈥檚 window. 鈥淥h dear鈥� I said, 鈥淲hat happens now?鈥� 鈥淚 sent sixty three鈥� he said. He was referring to one of our several communications with home. We had a list of numbered phrases, of which we could select three of four, and then would be decoded when arriving in the UK. 63 meant 鈥楯olly good show. Keep it up鈥�

I was on duty as orderly sergeant, and then men were billeted in a hut, similar to a Nissen hut. The time was near lights-out and as I walked in the door all was quiet and there was a man sitting on nearly every bed. 鈥淓verything all right?鈥� I asked. The chap nearest me nodded towards the other end of the hut. There was Dusty sitting on a chair with a Lea-Enfield rifle across his knees, and holding the chaps in terror. I asked if it was loaded, and he nodded. Now what does a chap wearing an orderly sergeants鈥� tab do in a case like this?

I walked straight down the middle of the hut and sat on a bed facing Dusty. 鈥淗as the missus got the window mended yet?鈥� I asked him. He didn鈥檛 know. We had a chat for a few minutes, and then I said to him, 鈥淚 think you had better give me that鈥� and held out my hand. To my relief, he handed over the rifle. I withdrew the bolt and took the round from the breech, took out the magazine and handed back the rifle. I gave the ammo to the corporal IC.

Dusty should have been charged with something! But I didn鈥檛 know how to do it! It had not been part of my training. I don鈥檛 think I lost any bonus points from the boys, but I could quite easily have lost three stripes if any one of those chaps had let the cat out of the bag! But they didn鈥檛 and I call that a real comradeship!

I went for a walk in the camp to watch a game of soccer in progress, and I thought a face on the sideline was familiar. It turned to be a very well known sportsman who has recently died; it was Stan Cullis, a Wolverhampton Wanders player, later to become Wolves manager. He was in the RAF, and his job at the Bari rest camp was PT instructor.

Eventually our company returned from Dubrovnik, and after a few days preparation, we set off again, travelling north. The same old route, Foggia, Naples, Caserta, etc. but this time we travelled beyond Rome, past the leaning tower of Pisa, and on to Milan. Our destination turned out to be a very large Italian factory in the Milan district of Lambrate. The factory had been very badly damaged by bombs, whose bombs I never discovered, and the roofs had mostly fallen in. However, the office block was largely intact, and this was to be our billet for a while.
As a matter of interest, the name of the factory was Innocenti, and after the war when Italy started exporting the small motor scooters, one model was the lambretta, (Lambrate!) and printed on the scooter was the manufactures name, innocenti!

Our purpose in Milan was never clear to me, but as the war in Italy was now finished I think the division was assisting with clearing up the mess. Milan was the only place apart from our leave in Rome, where we could go out after duty and enjoy the surrounding, have a drink and a meal, sit on the side walk and watch the world and the signoritas go by! This is something we never think about doing at home, but it is a very pleasant way of spending a few spare moments!

Milan is another fine city with marvellous old buildings and monuments, lovely wide streets and a tramway system, which I used quite a few times. It was a novelty to me! My friend at this time was sergeant D.W.French-cottage, he came from Folkestone and I tried to contact him after the war, but could not get in touch. Frenchie and I explored quite a lot of Milan together, and made a few visits to the theatre as well.

We saw the opera house but did not attend a performance. We visited the Piazza del Duomo and the Cathedral and also the piazza where Mussolini started his journey to power as a journalist. I bought some postcards with pictures of Mussolini and his mistress, Petacci, strung up from lamp posts in the square after they had been captured by the anti-fascists.

We slept in offices upstairs in our billet, and we were in the habit of leaving the windows open when we went out in the evening to cool the place down. We also left the lights on. When we arrived back one evening, the whole place was covered with Black Beetles. The ceiling and walls, our bedding and mosquito nets and all our kits were Black. What a difficult job to clear up that was! The following morning we could see the reason for the problem. The grass on the large area in front of the factory had been cut, and the beetles had been attracted to the light after dark. Thereafter, we changed our tactics!

After a few weeks had passed I went with a detachment under staff Sgt. Jock Henderson to a village close to the Swiss border. Our mission here was to support a company of South African Engineers who were to clear the frejus tunnel had been blocked by the retreating German army.

Our sergeant mess was established in a private house in the village. It was here that I learned to play the Pianola! The house was fully furnished with some lovely furniture, and we made good use of it. Yes, and we did respect it. And it was from this point that I received the authority to proceed on LIAP! Leave in advance of Python. Python being repatriation to the Uk-28 days leave.

I organised transport to our HQ, picked up the necessary papers, caught a train, and I was on my way home. We passed through Switzerland, through Paris and on to the channel port, and boarded a ferry. On the way over the channel the loud-speaker system was working overtime and one of the messages promised dire consequences for anyone caught with un-authorised weapons, The Beretta! I didn鈥檛 want to be sent straight back to Italy from Folkestone without stepping ashore! I dug into my kit and found the gun, put it in a paper bag and threw it over the side! And then went to the bar for a drink. I had cherished that little pistol, and taken it on my travels practically all over Italy.

When my leave was over I boarded a train, and when it arrived back at Folkestone the loud-speakers were still issuing instructions. 鈥淎nyone in release group 25 or over please report to the RTO鈥� That鈥檚 me! I found the rail transport officer鈥檚 office and saluted, by force of habit! He told me that I was due to be released shortly, I would not be returning to Italy.

I was despatched to Cheshire to a holding camp, I believe it might have been Oulton Park, but im not sure, and when I arrived, there were several chaps at the camp in the same position. In September 1945, I went to Bulford Barracks at York, where I was presented with discharge papers and a civilian overcoat. I could have had a suit, but I didn鈥檛 care for the style!

There is a small twist to the story and an extra bonus for me! I think the release group numbers were age groups, and because I miss-stated my age when enlisting in1939, I was released two groups earlier than I should have been.

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