大象传媒

Chapter Eight: Home and Away Again

After what Meters had told me I really had to believe that we were going home. This was no rumour, but even at that late time I decided to keep just a wary eye open knowing that things could always change before we actually boarded that ship; anyway we went out for a drink on the strength of his good news.
He had deliberately looked me up before he left because he wanted to explain the position with regard to the Boxing Championship in the Middle East which on going home he was about to relinquish. He pointed out that as he vacated the title it then had to be adopted by the chief contender which happened to be me and therefore I automatically became the champion, but of course I would have to put it up for contention.
All that would have been fine if it were not for the fact that it seemed I too would no longer be in the area and would be in no position to defend it, however I basked in the glory that was mine for what turned out to be about ten days. Then the title became vacant and powers responsible would sort it out. I did much regret that I couldn鈥檛 just have had a few more fights if only to prove that I deserved the title, maybe too I could have withstood all the leg-pulling from my mates when they came down from the desert and continually addressed me as 鈥淐hamp鈥�.
I never saw Meters again after we had parted, wishing each other good luck; I would have liked to have known him earlier because we became quite good friends. It is strange when looking back to think that although we were in the same regiment although in different squadrons we had never met. He didn鈥檛 train with the boxing team but separately. I had heard him talked of so very often but we didn鈥檛 meet except in the ring; that was a pity really because I might have learned a little of his skill.
Tommy Scarrat came down with the advance party and sought me out, bringing me all the news of the lads back with the squadron and of the preparations for our voyage. One evening we went along to where we were told that we could find Doug Driver who was said to be still at the Base. Having found him we had a night out in Cairo; three Northampton townies having a farewell drink and talking of home-sweet-home, Doug was also due to leave and I did meet him in Far Cotton during our leave.
When the regiment arrived I rejoined them even though I hadn鈥檛 completed the Course. Whether I deserved it or not I got a pass; we drew khaki serge battledress from the stores which gave us a feeling of being on our way, at least to a cooler climate. There was still a feeling that we could even yet be diverted and wouldn鈥檛 be sure of anything until we had docked in Liverpool.
It didn鈥檛 go down too well when we found that we had to draw Yankee denims in exchange for our tank overalls; all of the clothing from the stores was coated with smelly yellowish delousing powder. A lot of time was spent bashing each garment against the wall in an effort to disperse as much of it as possible. No doubt it was a protection against the bugs while in store. We had experienced these pests in the barrack rooms where the evidence of their existence was smeared on the walls where their blood which they secreted when squashed formed a reddish pattern.
When on the Course we were allowed Friday afternoons off for 鈥極peration Debugging鈥�. Tin lids containing paraffin were set under the bedlegs and blankets were hung out; it appeared that they were not so active in the cooler air so most of us slept on the verandahs. Most soldiers at some time or other have sung 鈥渢here were bugs, bugs as big as bloody dogs in the quartermaster鈥檚 stores鈥�.
We set sail at the end of October 1943 and our destination was definitely England. There were just a few duties on board ship, on the guns or look-out, otherwise when activities were not arranged for us we read, played cards or took part in quizzes and competitions. Most of our time was spent on deck especially in the early part of the voyage because the decks below were so very overcrowded.
It gave us ample time for reflection and for conjecture as to our future role in the War and how much longer the conflict was likely to last. We gained some news of the world at large, of the progress in Italy being slow against some stubborn opposition, there some of our 7th Armoured Division were then engaged, and news of the defence of Stalingrad.
We wondered how we would find our people at home and how much conditions might have changed with Rationing, Bombing and all the wartime restrictions. I remember being asked one time during our discussions 鈥淲hat will you tell your grandchildren when this lot is over?鈥� I don鈥檛 think I gave a very satisfactory reply because then I hadn鈥檛 contemplated anything that far ahead.
The voyage on the whole was quite restful apart from once or twice receiving visits from the Luftwaffe, and there was the continual fear of enemy submarines, but as far as I was aware our large convoy docked at Liverpool without loss.
After disembarking we boarded a train and noted the stations as we travelled down the country, and Tommy, myself and the other Northampton lads were wondering would we stop and be set down somewhere near to our homes, but there were groans when we passed through Castle station from where I could almost see our road. We carried on but not too far because we halted in Buckinghamshire, the next county, and were billeted in Nissen huts at Great Missenden just a comfortable distance away.
Everyone was speculating on how much leave and pay each of us was due to receive. Leave was calculated on how much time each individual had spent abroad; my own total would benefit by the addition of those months which I spent in France before going to the Middle East. It was about a week before the pay parade took place and our passes issued, then we were able to let our people at home know that we were on our way.
We felt the cold December very much, especially in our beds, it was far from pleasant also when we were forced to stand on parade for some considerable time waiting to be inspected by some 鈥榖rass hat鈥� who was unpunctual and kept us in line shivering.
We passed an evening in a nearby village pub where it was warm, friendly and homely, the kind of place and atmosphere which we often dreamt of in those sun-parched days of the past. It was there that 鈥楤ig Geordie鈥� who I had battled with prior to Alamein came over and bought me a drink.
It was rather late in the day when the five or six of us Northampton men had received our passes and set off for Castle station and home, arriving there a little before nine. Before parting to go our separate ways we had a drink in the pub opposite (was it then called the 鈥楪reen Man鈥�?) then arranged to meet up during our leave; only one lad came my way but he left me after we had walked through what is now St. Peter鈥檚 Way and on entering Bridge Street he turned into a yard at the side of the brewery. I鈥檝e forgotten his name but it鈥檚 strange that I never saw him again when back with the regiment.
From where he left me and walking home alone towards Far Cotton was a time that I have never forgotten; it was all so quiet there was no-one about in the black-out, no air raids, or sounds of gunfire. As I passed over South Bridge I had that wonderful feeling that comes over one when returning home, which is especially poignant in times of war. I left there as a boy and was returning as a man of many experiences. I remembered as I neared home the time when I couldn鈥檛 leave home and get away from Far Cotton soon enough. I was so keen to get away when the job in Bedford was offered me, now I was to be at home for six weeks. It had been five years since I had lived at home. I reached Eastfield Road and turned in the gate, I was home.
My parents were in reasonably good health and pleased to see me. Arthur鈥檚 wife Joan was there so I met her for the first time; it must have been a considerable worry for parents such as mine who had three sons in the services, apart from all the other hardships that civilians had to endure.
The day after I had arrived I met the girl with whom I had corresponded, she had apparently been a regular visitor to my home. Our letters had brought us close together so that I regarded her as my girl friend, that was as far as any understanding went, it was a sort of courting by mail.
Hilda had been a member of the Land Army for a number of years and was based at the village of Stanwick. She had managed to get time off in order that we could meet. She was expected to arrive at the bus depot in Derngate (where the theatre now is,) but actually we met in Guildhall Road, her bus had arrived early.
It was nearing Christmas and brother Ern was on leave. For Christmas dinner Dad had procured a couple of rabbits and had killed a hen so that we had quite a banquet, leaving only the pickings for Dad when he came home from work. Being home for Christmas was simply wonderful, the first time in five years and a time I have never forgotten.
Over at Irthlingborough I met Hilda鈥檚 parents and her sister and I think that those weeks were the beginning of our courtship. We were seeing each other regularly, she staying at our house at the weekends and I at hers during part of the week. I made the usual round of visits to friends and relatives; there were not many young men about with the exception of those who were classed unfit for service or were employed on work of national importance.
Dad was proud to introduce me to his Home Guard colleagues most of them men who had fought in the First World War, all of various ranks, Dad being a sergeant. They took their role most seriously and were keen to show off their armaments to me. I was convinced that if they had been properly armed and were called on to assist in the defence of our island they would have given a good account of themselves.
A satirised version of the Home Guard has been a very popular television programme for some years now but it contrasted greatly with the efficient dedication I found in Dad鈥檚 force. Their headquarters were conveniently at the 鈥榃hite Hart鈥� pub at Cotton End and their guardroom one of the Bridge Street railway buildings. In the pub darts were played by the men not on duty and we all joined in, Hilda, Joan, even Mum sometimes. In those days every house owned a dartboard and any caller usually stayed for a game. We had a board pinned to our door in the living room for years and the door and the surrounding area showed the evidence of many badly-aimed darts. In the pub which seemed always to be crowded teams were formed and competitions played.
Our next-door neighbour was a regular drinker but his local was the 鈥楥linton Arms鈥� (which was demolished when St Peter鈥檚 Way was made), and he asked me to go out for a drink with him one Saturday lunchtime. I accepted his offer and it turned out to be quite a binge. On introducing me to his drinking companions everyone wished to buy us drinks, he began by showing me off as a recently-returned local man who was a Desert Rat and a Military Medallist; I was embarrassed and was pleased to get away. When I told Dad where I had been he didn鈥檛 at all approve and said a few choice words about our neighbour.
Again I was asked out and that was by the man who owned the General Stores in Delapre Crescent road, Mr Bains, who had been a good friend to our family over a good many years. He wanted me to spend an evening with him after the shop was closed, I did so and it turned out to be a very pleasant time.
The fact that he opened a bottle of whisky, a drink that I had not tasted for a long time certainly added flavour to the evening, whisky was almost unobtainable at that time, or so I thought and was a great luxury.
Anyone acquiring a bottle then would be sure to only indulge on very special occasions, I therefore felt that I had reason to feel honoured. When I left he gave me a miniature Military Medal. Another neighbour who lived down the road who I knew only by sight, never having spoken to him, had made a house-to-house collection on my behalf after reading in the local paper of my exploits in the desert and of my injuries, with the result that he presented me with a beautiful large cut-glass fruit bowl which I still have and treasure. I expressed my sincere thanks to him.
When in Irthlingborough Hilda took me to visit many of her friends and relatives and one of those happened to be a local boot-and-shoe manufacturer in the town, and a town councillor. At his home we had a most enjoyable evening where once again a whisky bottle was produced and I was able to partake of a glass or so. It began to become apparent that businessmen knew how to acquire this rare commodity.
Toward the end of my leave Hilda and I decided to become engaged. We had been in each other鈥檚 company a lot during the past month or so and we had grown to know one another. We made the decision in spite of my earlier opposition to such ties in wartime, it was because of my belief that it was unfair to risk being killed and leaving a partner. However I eventually came to accept that if the other person was willing to take that chance then I would be content to go along with it.
A further reason was that although the war had then moved a little more in favour of the Allies we were yet to invade the continent and force a German surrender so that the conflict appeared then that it was some years from a conclusion and could possibly last another two or three years which was too long a period to ask anyone to wait.
We set off to shop for a ring. The first jeweller which we called on was Samuel鈥檚 at the bottom of the Drapery and Mercer鈥檚 Row. Here we encountered some misunderstanding regarding the price of the ring which we had selected. The salesman said that it was 鈥渢hirty-five鈥� which I knew I could afford being less than my weekly pay. I said yes, that was fine, I could manage that, but when I offered him my hard-earned 鈥榯hirty-five鈥� he looked aghast and with a disdainful look politely told me 鈥淚t is thirty-five pounds, Sir, please.鈥�
Needless to say that we then beat a hasty retreat. I should have informed him that I was a British Tommy, not an American. We found another salesman whose prices were more suitable to our means, I would need to have saved my Army pay for about three months to meet the thirty-five pound price.
While writing on the subject of rings I am reminded of the ring which Dad had passed on to me which belonged to my ex-fiancee and it was my intention to sell it, so in town one morning I went into a jewellers in Abington street; as I came out pocketing the cash I saw a lady a few yards away watching me. It took me a moment to realise who it was, then knew it to be Jane鈥檚 mother. She would no doubt be surprised to see me, believing me to be still overseas but she would have guessed of my purpose at the jewellers.
I regret now to say that I didn鈥檛 approach or attempt to even speak to her but let her go on her way without a word while appearing not to notice her. I should have at least had the decency to say 鈥榟ello鈥� and acknowledge her, why I didn鈥檛 I cannot say.
Neither she nor her husband had caused me any harm and the broken engagement was long over and almost forgotten so I bore them no ill feelings. What I ought to have done was to arrange to meet them at the Club but I let the situation pass. It was one of those things which I ought to have done which then became too late to rectify.
In January (1944) instructions came for me to report back to the regiment who were in 鈥淲est Toffs鈥� deep in the heart of Thetford forest among the pine trees. The nearest station was Brandon. The immense depth of woodland hid the Nissen huts of thousands of soldiers, armaments of all sorts, tanks, guns, ammunition and masses of various war supplies. It was fortunate that the Luftwaffe was no longer anything of a threat because all this material was part of the massive build-up for the invasion of Europe, the 鈥淪econd Front鈥� as it became known, which everyone knew was imminent.
One of the first things which came to my notice on returning to the regiment was the information on the notice board that I was promoted to sergeant from 1st January 1944, unpaid of course for nine months when I should then become a full sergeant.
We of the Desert Rats thought that on returning to take part in the attack on Europe that we would play only a secondary role because there were enough trained troops in the country ready and available who had been waiting years since the fall of Dunkirk in 1940 to play their part, and were keen to do so. Also we considered it would give us more time to receive extra training for a role which was so much different from that of the desert.
When we were out on a pass or on duty and meeting men of the Home Forces they were wary of us and of our reputation, we being easily recognised by our bronzed and leathery appearance. They knew that we were battle-experienced, had been in combat longer and to a greater extent than any other land force since the outbreak of war and were responsible for the only victories achieved from the Italian campaign through Alamein to Tunis.
It was said about us, unfairly I thought, that we appeared to be conceited, cocksure, using such words as 鈥榮hufti鈥�, 鈥榖uckshees鈥�, 鈥榤aliesh鈥�, 鈥榓ckers鈥�, 鈥榖int鈥�, 鈥榮ayeda鈥� and suchlike and wearing the Africa Star medal ribbon with the Eighth Army clasp. None of us agreed that we were in any way aloof; in my opinion it was more likely to be a calmness brought about by nearly four years鈥� of fighting a war often against greater odds and with inferior equipment and learning how to survive and shrewd enough to know when to take chances. We had witnessed a great deal of death and accepted that war was a bloody awful business.
We were not very pleased to learn that our division after all was to spearhead the attack in our section of the coast when we had landed in France. Our leaders when addressing us told of the great honour it was to have been selected and given the opportunity to be in the vanguard of such a great enterprise, a momentous occasion which would be recorded in history as the greatest invasion ever to take place. We were also reminded that just as a good man will be used time after time to serve so would a good regiment.
It was said that we were Churchill鈥檚 favourite division and the great man once reflected that one in five servicemen never heard shot or shell and ran no more risk than a civilian. Some men however return again and again while the great majority are kept out. We still asked ourselves 鈥渋s anyone else fighting?鈥�
Our new tanks arrived, far superior to anything with which we had previously been equipped; we were eager to get acquainted with the monsters, they were called the 鈥楥romwell鈥�. We and the tanks were transported by train to Kircudbrightshire in Scotland to fire the guns. With the result that we all felt that at last we had a fighting machine comparable to whatever the enemy might oppose us with, perhaps with the exception of the German Tiger. We took part in several exercises; I remember the names for two of them, one being Shiver and the other Shudder.
For some reason unknown to the rank and file there came about a further reorganisation within the squadron, and it affected myself and Sergeant Robinson in like manner. 鈥楻obbo鈥� had been a good mate of mine over a number of years, he was a Brummie and sported an outstanding pointed wax-like moustache. Both of us were far from pleased when we found that we were to be transferred to HQ Squadron and to become members of the leader鈥檚 crew, 鈥楻obbo鈥� as gunner and I as operator-loader. We thought the change as it affected us was disruptive, it was annoying that we should lose control of our our own tanks and the crews with which we had trained and to have to serve within the confines of the commander鈥檚 machine.
Also the particular leader was not one I would have served with if there was a choice, of course there was not; it was said that he had a record of recklessness and neither of us wished for that sort of gamble. So we conferred and conspired, Robbo and I, to conceive a means by which it might be possible to reverse our movement order; we decided that we must not make ourselves too efficient and when on the range not to have a good shoot. If the result was a poor one then perhaps he might part with us in exchange for another pair more suitable.
When on the range our shots either fell short or were wide of the target, consequently we had a poor shoot. He said nothing at the time which was disturbing for us because if he found that the resultant poor showing was deliberately planned then we would have been in very grave trouble.
We quite possibly could have been court-martialled, however nothing came of it except that we were returned to our own tank troop and crews with not even a reprimand. Some months later though and just prior to D-Day in fact both of us were transferred once again to Headquarters under the control of the same leader and reduced to commanding Honey tanks. That was a particular setback because we had set our hopes on our Cromwells. It did appear very much that this was some sort of punishment meted out to both of us for our previous lack of co-operation.
I agreed with Hilda that we should set a date for our wedding with the possibility that we could be married before I went away again. It wasn鈥檛 easy to set a date though, the timing was difficult. I knew that I was due for a week鈥檚 leave in April but there were repetitions of 鈥榩anic stations鈥� with everyone confined to camp. There was never an explanation given for those situations but whichever date we chose seemed to have to be cancelled.
I made a call at the squadron office daily to obtain a definite date for my leave pass so that Hilda could proceed with the arrangements at her end but each time after a date was assured there would be a curfew then I would be caused to send a message to her in the form of 鈥� wedding postponed鈥�.
Not many households in those days had the benefit of a telephone, so to get in touch with Hilda I would ask the landlord of the nearest pub which was the British Arms to pass on a message.
Bill Smith must have been kept busy passing on messages from absent servicemen, eventually a date was given and Hilda arranged everything for us to be married on April 13th 1944 which after so many anxious moments turned out for us to be the day.
I was only granted just the five days鈥� leave, so allowing for travelling there was not a very long honeymoon period. As there was no truck going anywhere near Brandon railway station I walked the five miles there and then had better luck as there was a transport lorry which gave me a lift as far as Peterborough from where I caught a train home.
On the wedding morning my parents and best man set off from Derngate bus station for Irthlingborough; I didn鈥檛 know my best man and Dad introduced him to me as one of his workmates, but I was grateful to him for accepting the duty.
We were married at St. Peter鈥檚 church and the reception was held in the lounge of the British Arms. There was quite a large gathering mostly of old people and no males with the exception of the older men. Everyone it seemed had made a contribution towards the food and in spite of Rationing they presented a very nice tea. The cake itself was little more than a sponge, nevertheless it was a happy gathering and Hilda and I expressed our gratitude to them all for making it such a great day.
A small group saw us off on the bus at Irthlingborough Cross which took us to our honeymoon hotel - a flat in Burton Latimer High street which belonged to a girl who was the daughter of the family at the farm where Hilda had her meals. She had lost her husband in the early days of the desert war. We have always been indebted to her for her kind offer; we had such a short time together but were grateful for it. I suppose we were lucky really because there were many cases where after getting married some couples would have to part and the serviceman board a ship to some foreign land for what could be a number of years.
On my return to West Tofts I found that until further notice all leave was cancelled and everyone confined to camp. It was the general opinion that any day we would be on the move but it was over a month before we actually did so, which was towards the end of May 1944. Then, we took our tanks by road to Bognor Regis. Once there Robbo and I made our transfer and took over Honey tanks.
It seemed to us both that our earlier conspiracy had failed and had now backfired. The move must have been by design, a subtle act of revenge because we were the only ones to have been affected on this occasion and only involved the two of us . Anyway, however disappointing it was, we had to take it and make the best of it.
Our role with the lighter Honey tank would be a more dangerous one as we would be pushed out in front on reconnaissance to make contact with the enemy. We would be told frequently to 鈥榩ush on鈥� to which we usually added 鈥渞egardless鈥�.
We used a leap-frog method of advance, one tank overtaking the forward one. If you happened to be that lead tank you hoped when having a corner to negotiate that there wasn鈥檛 a big Tiger tank just waiting for you. But it was as the soldiers of the First War said when going over the top: 鈥淚f there鈥檚 one for you, you鈥檒l get it鈥�.
Schemes took place over the South Downs and a lot of our time was spent on the waterproofing of the vehicles. Every garage in the area was commandeered for the purpose; days and hours were spent under and around them, sealing every joint with a pliable compound, I believe it was called Bostik, making sure that it was impossible for any seepage of sea water to enter when we hit the water on leaving the landing-craft before we rolled up onto the beach. The exhaust too had to be extended with a vertical chute standing clear of the water. We had had no training for a beach landing and were not sure of the depth into which we would be put down. As it happened it was quite an easy landing with no problem at all.
There were lots of photographic sessions. Firstly the whole of the regiment, followed by each squadron, then all the officers, all the NCOs and numerous other permutations. The reason for it all was probably for the regimental history records which would be a register of all those who were to take part on what was thought to be the greatest show on earth: the biggest invasion ever attempted, an enterprise which no-one ever doubted would be anything other than successful. Every member of the regiment who took part in the historical event would therefore be captured in those photos in the regimental archives.
One Saturday afternoon I had a very pleasant surprise when my brother Ern turned up, so together with one of my mates we went along to a little teashop where we sat and talked over a pot of tea and a bun, a bun then being the only thing available - no cakes or pastries. But that was not a problem because we were able to pass an hour or so in conversation.
Ern being a member of the RAF Regiment told us that he had been informed that they would very soon be following us into Europe. I didn鈥檛 know when I would see him again but it was great that we should have met at that time just prior to the big event.
All officers were called to a briefing conference and when they returned, that information was passed down to us NCO tank commanders. We then learned where we would leave from, where we would land and which area of the beach we were to occupy, the times and dates, and all of the plans for the role which we were to play in the invasion. It gave us all a clear picture what our intention was when D-Day and the hour was announced. It was all very secret because the element of surprise was essential and would give us a considerable advantage when attempting to form a bridgehead. All passes from then on were cancelled but not confined to camp but allowed out locally.
That being so it came as a great surprise to me when I was called to the squadron office and given a leave pass to London to attend an Investiture at Buckingham Palace where next day King George VI was to confer honours, in my case I was to receive the Military Medal.

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