大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Norman Wigley of the 大象传媒 Radio Sheffield Action Desk on behalf of Mr George Martin, and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

This edited account is taken from the book 鈥淐assino to the River Po. Italy 1944-45. A personal account of life and action in a tank troop鈥� written and published by George Martin.

Other parts to this story can be found at:

Part 1: A7832441

Part 2: A7832702

Part 3: A7832964

Part 4: A7833152

Part 5: A7833549

Part 6: A7833710

Part 7: A7833837

Part 8: A7833972

Part 10: A7834179

The River Panaro swings into a wide curve to the south west of Bondeno; apart from the bridge in the town, the only other means of crossing the river was by a bridge some miles to the southwest. Reports indicated that the southwest bridge had been demolished, so thousands of German troops, trapped south of the river, would be obliged to make for the bridge at Bondeno. This bridge had not been blown. With this information the reason for our withdrawal and regrouping became clear. We set off early on 22nd April 1945. We found ourselves acting as reserve squadron, our 鈥榗ircle鈥� friends, 鈥楥鈥� Squadron had orders to attack and capture the bridge at Bondeno before the enemy could 鈥榖low鈥� it.

Because of the nature of the ground, progress was rather slow but the early stages of the advance met little or no opposition; within sight of the outskirts of the town, 鈥楥鈥� Squadron perhaps felt that the worst was over, but, at that stage, shells began to pour from well concealed defence posts. Several tanks were knocked out in quick succession but the Troop Leader leading the central attack went straight through, ahead of him lay the bridge, a German infantryman, apparently on point duty, waved him on! The Sherman thundered on towards the bridge, in passing and the crew commander cut the German down with half a magazine from a Tommy gun. At that stage the Troop Leader saw he was being followed by a Tiger tank, but because of the bridge structure, it was unable to fire at him. Dashing across the bridge, luck deserted him as he swung left and into the town; turning into a side street, he found it was a dead end. Before he could smash his way through the houses, a Bazooka fired from an upstairs window, knocked out his tank causing some casualties. By this time the Germans realised that the attack was a major threat to the escape route, so brought up armour and established a line of tanks and guns on the north bank to prevent any tanks approaching the bridge.

We listened in to the destruction of 鈥楥鈥� Squadron: with sympathetic understanding to the tank commander who bitterly complained over his radio, that his shells were just bouncing off the front of a Tiger, the sudden loud explosion and then silent radio told its own story. My wireless operator looked at me and said, 鈥淚 reckon they鈥檝e just about lost the whole squadron sir.鈥� He had just about finished speaking when the Squadron Leader came on the air to inform us that we had been ordered to take over from 鈥楥鈥� Squadron and get to the bridge. During the short breathing space, and no doubt because we had no infantry with us to harass the German engineers, they managed to blow the bridge. We heard the explosion as we closed in on the bridge approach road. It was by now late afternoon and with the bridge blown, it seemed pointless for us to head in that direction. Instead we had orders to cover all approach roads to the bridge and the open ground between, to await the arrival of a large German force believed to be heading for the bridge. We were ordered to take up defensive positions at a 鈥楾鈥� junction where the enemy were most likely to arrive.

Set back from the 鈥楾鈥� junction was a house, just sufficient room between it and the road corner to get a Sherman 17 pounder into the shrubbery. The remainder of the Squadron formed the west and north sides of the box, the fourth side, the east, was protected by a walled cemetery, 80 yards or so to our flank. Squadron HQ sat in the centre of the box with the 105mm close support tank set to fire over our heads along the main road. A knocked out Sherman of 鈥楥鈥� Squadron was standing on the road at the junction. I set my Sergeant鈥檚 tank between the house and the tank; I was on the other side of the house, and some 30 yards to my left, the Corporal鈥檚 tank, all well concealed and with a good field of fire.

200 yards or so along the main road and almost blocking the road, was a burning Sherman of the ill-fated 鈥楥鈥� Squadron. With our guns aligned to cover the road we reckoned all was ready. I was just about to get some rest while we waited when a young officer of the Rifle brigade arrived. 鈥淚鈥檝e been ordered to bring our anti-tank gun and cover your position,鈥� he said to me. 鈥淲ell, what have you got and where do you intend to put it?鈥� I replied. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a six pounder and er 鈥� just here,鈥� he said pointing to a shallow ditch which ran along almost under the front of our tanks, and just about eight feet form the muzzle of my tank鈥檚 17 pounder! 鈥淥h, hold on now, if you dig in there, when my 17 pounder fires, the blast will blow you and your crew for six, you鈥檒l wonder what hit you.鈥� He pondered for a minute or two, looked at our guns and said, 鈥淲ell, if you鈥檝e got 17 pounders, our six pounder isn鈥檛 going to be much good is it?鈥� He decided to stay put however and to shelter unless they were needed. He also agreed for his chaps to fire flares to illuminate the scene when the fun started.

I tried to get some sleep, and about midnight, felt someone shaking my shoulder. It was the sentry who thought he could hear an engine running in the distance. We listened carefully and faintly, from a long way off, we both heard what sounded like a motor-cycle; possibly a D.R. checking the road ahead of the column. The Squadron Leader was advised of the situation and everyone was made ready for action. We mounted up, and loaded solid A.P. shot 鈥� our priority was to get the armour first. Very slowly, the sounds drew closer and louder, tension mounted as the time dragged on. Listening carefully, we then picked out another sound, the unmistakable sound of a tank engine, and the noise of tracks and bogies. Suddenly in the light of the flickering flames, we saw a figure walk round the burning tank; a D.R. then came into view, got past the tank, and parked his motor-cycle 15 yards or so on our side; he then walked back to his colleague by the Sherman. We then watched as the enemy used their tank to tow the Sherman clear of the road 鈥� an indication that they had some wheeled transport following. The flames outlined the German tank, and we could see it was a Mk.4 with a long 75mm gun! The Squadron Leader had come up beside my tank and said quietly, 鈥淭hey鈥檒l probably see the knocked out 鈥楥鈥� Squadron tank on the corner, wait until they鈥檙e real close before you fire.鈥� Before I could reply, my attention was caught by more vehicles moving directly in front of us. It was our quartermaster bringing up ammunition, fuel and rations! 鈥淕ood God!鈥� exclaimed the Squadron Leader. Quickly they were brought in along a track behind us, which led into the walled cemetery. 鈥楺uarti鈥� as he was known, stopped and came over to join us. 鈥淒o you see what鈥檚 going on over there?鈥� asked the Squadron Leader. 鈥淵es,鈥� said Quarti, 鈥渂ut I can鈥檛 see why they鈥檙e moving the tank.鈥� 鈥淚f I told you they鈥檙e Germans and you鈥檙e just in time for a spot of action, what would you say?鈥� continued the Squadron Leader. 鈥淥h, bloody hell,鈥� said Quarti, beating a hasty retreat into the walled cemetery with his men and vehicles!

We could now concentrate on the impending action. The Germans now seemed to be in discussion in the flickering glow of the fire, unaware of the numerous eyes watching their every move. The tank then moved slowly forward, and in the darkness I could see what looked like a half track with infantry sitting on the back, and behind that, a gun being towed, the outline of which looked very much like that of an 88mm anti-tank gun! The column finally came to a halt about 70 yards from the corner. The gunner voiced my thoughts, 鈥淗e鈥檚 seen that knocked out Sherman on the corner and is going to belt it.鈥� 鈥淚t鈥檒l be the last thing he does belt, be ready,鈥� I said. Tension was acute as we all waited patiently 鈥� gunners with feet resting lightly on firing buttons; the enemy appeared in no hurry to make his move.

Suddenly the stillness of the night was shattered by their simultaneous firing of a white verey flare and the long 75mm gun of the Mk.4 special. His solid shot whined as it ricocheted off the tank and into the distance. The star shell lit the area with a pale, almost ghostly glow, illuminating the whole scene. He had no sooner fired when my Sergeant fired his first shot, the 17 pounder shell went straight through the German鈥檚 turret. Quickly dropping his aim, the second shot went through the hull. Soon the tank was 鈥榖rewing鈥�. Before long, its ammunition started to explode. Within seconds of the first shot, the Corporal and I engaged the vehicles behind the tank, and the 105mm lobbed shells into the area behind the burning Sherman at the corner hoping to catch infantry and other arms to the rear of the armour. We continued firing, as I wanted to get that 88mm before it could open up on us. As the light of the German flare faded I wondered what had happened to the R.B.鈥檚 flares. At that moment, they soared into the air. Once again the immediate area was bathed in a cold ghostly glow; as far as we could see, no movement among the enemy column indicated that the remnants had fled into the darkness. The firing ceased, nothing stirred, and a profound silence fell. The German tank continued to burn furiously, blowing itself apart as its ammunition exploded. Of the R.B.鈥檚 six-pounder gun crew I heard nothing until next morning. Apparently the young officer, after sighting his gun, ordered the crew to dig a trench for shelter for themselves so that at the outset they could observe progress and, if we should get knocked out, then get their six pounder into action.

The officer had devised a system of code words to give his men according to the action he wanted. The first blast from the muzzle brake of a 17 pounder is shattering and the first shots just about blew the infantry crew out of their shelter. The officer decided enough was enough and shouted the code words to get out; before the last syllable sounded there were no soldiers to be seen! While all the night鈥檚 action was taking place, not all was peace and quiet in the cemetery either.

Long before Quarti arrived with his echelon of soft vehicles (water truck, 15cwts. And three tonners with food and ammunition), the Squadron fitters with the Mech/Sergeant in charge, had been safely established in a corner of the cemetery, the one hopefully, furthest away from any likely action. When Quarti arrived and was bustled into the other corner, neither was aware of the presence of the other. The Squadron Leader, because of the tense situation, forgot to mention it to either group. For some time we had suspected that to slow our advance, the enemy had dropped pockets of paratroopers to cause diversions behind our front line. The Mech/Sergeant was very much aware of this. While the battle raged outside the walls of the cemetery, inside Quarti decided to have a look round the monuments to the deceased.

Stealthily he picked his way between the memorials, blissfully unaware that his presence had not gone un-noticed and that his every move was being followed by the Mech/Sergeant, who, pistol in hand, dashed out from his hiding place. With his pistol blazing, he swore loudly that he鈥檇 get the 鈥渂lasted paras鈥�! Now, as a mechanic, he was first class, but as a marksman he was rather poor, fortunately for Quarti, who hurriedly taking cover, recognised the voice of the Mech/Sergeant and swore loudly at him! 鈥淗ell 鈥楺鈥�, I might have shot you,鈥� said the Mech/Sergeant later. Perhaps it is just as well that Quarti鈥檚 comments were not recorded! The Squadron Leader though did have something to say, 鈥淪ergeant, your standard of marksmanship leaves much to be desired. Get some practice in forthwith, and that鈥檚 an order.鈥�

Pr-BR

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