大象传媒

So now I was with 9 Platoon, with Cpl Reg West, Stan Beauchamp, and one other. They had had 3 previous drivers, the last one for only 10 minutes; a shell had gone through the front of the carrier, through the driver and out through the back. I guess that would be an 88mm armour piercing shell. I remained with them until after the Rhine crossing in March 1945. Soon after this the whole of 15th Scottish Division moved secretly over to the American sector at St Lo. The Yanks had left all sorts of stuff lying around. The guns were mounted at the top of the hill, I had my dinner then I had to stand by the gun so that numbers one and two could have theirs. An order came up for a shoot, so I laid the gun on to the aiming post for 3500 yards and did the shoot myself. Then the real gunners came. The Scottish Infantry went in there and opened the way for the American tanks, who then encircled the whole German army. Then the RAF and American Air Force did the rest. We moved on to the Vire and Mortain area and later headed for Falaise, where William the Conqueror was born. I saw the castle. Our next stop was at Louvier on the River Seine. We did a shoot there, and as the bridge was part blown, the Jocks went across in small assault boats. We drove across the bridge in the early hours of the morning, after it had been inspected. About a mile beyond the bridge we stopped at a farm, then the whole of the British army went through over the next 2 or 3 days.
We had an officer now, Platoon Commander Lt Jimmy Stubbs. He was a democratic bloke, efficient and no nonsense and played cards with lads. When he went to recce a position he took one carrier and a gun crew, and NCO and when we moved we knew exactly where to go. We now moved from Louviers and drove along through the French countryside, we saw the Somme Valley, and Amiens, Lille, and then Courtrai in Belgium, and we were cheered through every town. At Courtrai' half the town had been shattered by an American air raid. We stayed there overnight then went on through Mechelen to Gheel on the Escaut canal. We were bivouacked in a field there, and the Jocks had crossed the canal and were under severe pressure. It was unfortunate that they had come up against a gunnery school, who were firing all sorts.
One day I was detailed to take Major Phillips, Company CO and Lt Jimmy Stubbs up there on a recce. They left me with the carrier on the road, saying "Wait here". There were anti-aircraft shells coming over which burst overhead about tree height. I could only crouch by the side of the carrier. Then there was a clatter of metal on metal, and I saw water trickling from the radiator. Shrapnel had pierced it. The officers came back after about half an hour, so I told them the circumstances. "You should have moved down the road" the Major said. I said it would be OK to drive it back slowly, which we did, and then I went straight into the workshops. I spent the night there and a new radiator was fitted the following day. That was 17th September. I noticed that strips of fluorescent material had been placed on the roof. Then waves of aircraft came over, some towing gliders; it was later made known that they had dropped a carpet of airborne troops from Eindhoven to Arnhem. We crossed the canal that day and arrived at Eindhoven and stopped there. The Guards Armoured Division took the road to Nijmegen and it closed behind them, the US 101st Airborne were supposed to hold it.
After a few days we moved along that road to Best Bridge over the canal, where we stayed for some days. Then we went on again to a small village, more a farm and a few cottages, called St Oedenrode. We took over from US 101 Airborne, and the following day we were to push the Germans further away from the road, and we were to do a shoot opening the attack. The drivers had to do an hours guard each, and wake up the next and so on. I did mine about 3am, but somebody went to sleep again and the system failed. We had a scratch breakfast of porridge and the attack was due to start at 9am, so we had to do a carrier action instead of guns on the ground.
We met and moved along with the Jocks, they all carried grenades hooked on their belt, some of them phosphorous. One lad was on fire because a grenade he was carrying had been struck. One of our lads, Stimson, was walking along when he said. "I've been shot". He showed me his tummy with a small hole in it. I said "You'll have to go back". I never saw him again. Further on we came up to a house, this looked like the end of the road and I stopped there. After a minute or two, something inside me was urging me to get out. So I stood up and took one stride over the front of the carrier and stood by the house. Seconds later, there was a big explosion; a rocket had hit my carrier right by where I had been sitting. It blew a small hole in the armour plate, wrecked the instrument panel, and a 2 gallon can of engine oil strapped on the front had disappeared. I looked up at Reg and he was shocked and covered in oil. I spoke to him and he couldn't speak. After a while the Platoon Sergeant came, they had done their job now and were leaving the Jocks to get on with it. He said to me "You'll have to stay with your vehicle". So I spent the night with the Jocks in the cellar of this house and had to do my "stag" (guard) as well. Our mechanic came the next morning, and crossed the wires to start my carrier. I then drove to Brigade workshops, at Phillips' factory in Eindhoven.
While at that house I had a look round and going from the living room, I opened a door and found an old man was lying there dead. The man was white haired and he had a large white moustache, he was properly laid out on the floor. I quietly closed the door and went back to the cellar. It was late September, and in the village were large apple trees covered with sweet yellow apples. I only had one. When I came out of the workshops, 51st Highland Division had taken over and I rejoined 9 Platoon in another village with a Hosiery mill, where we billeted, and we were entertained by the people nearby. We were soon off again, this time for the liberation of Tilburg, whilst the 53rd Welsh Division went for S'Hertogenbosch. We were in the town by midday and left in the evening, going across to take over from the Yanks again on the east side.
Another incident took place in the autumn of 1944. We were on the move at night as was usual and the only light we were allowed was the small red tail light under the back of the carrier. It was only a dirt road and quite narrow, so when we met a convoy coming the other way we had to pull over to allow passage. One of the lads got out to guide me, but in the event, the edge of the road gave way and the carrier slid into the ditch. We were stuck fast. The crew took the gun and ammo and left me, this time with a helper, Johnno, Pte Johnson. I never knew his first name, but he was a great guy and came from Bethnal Green, he was spare driver and took over in time of leave or sickness. It was pouring with rain as well, but we had to get the carrier out. We stopped an American half-track and they tried and failed. A while later a Sherman tank came along and with a long tow rope hooked up to my carrier, I sat in the driving seat of the carrier which was bending like a cardboard box while the tank strained and tugged. I thought if anything gives way now, I've had it. Well, it slowly dragged us up on to the road. We thanked them and then found that the track had come off. So then we had an hour's hard work to split the track and get it on again, and it was still raining. Thanks to Johnno and me we got going again and set off we knew not where. After a while we came to a village and there were our lot, they had had breakfast, but we got fed and then had to dry as best we could. My trousers dried on me as I stood near the cook's petrol burner. And Johnno, well he just took himself off as usual.
After a few days, we pulled out to the village of Asten; in a farm there, we had photographs taken of the whole platoon. Preparations were being made for a big push, which included river crossings on the Maas and the Rhine. The break through by the enemy in the Ardennes caused delay and in the event we were in positions overlooking Venlo on the Maas and we spent the winter a week on and off until March 1945. We had occasional trips to the cinema at Helmond and otherwise we had comfortable billets on a farm.
At Christmas 1944 we were in the line on Christmas Day, but had a party on the 29th, when we all got drunk. It ended in tragedy when a lad fell downstairs. This had been a party amongst our own platoon and the drink came from the Sergeants who had an allowance from their mess, so there were all sorts of spirits etc. I was brought up a non-drinking, non-conformist, and the loss of a young life made me think that it was time to draw the line on the excesses of drink related activities. I came home for 10 days leave in January.
There was much snow and ice about and Holland is not very attractive in the winter. It was cold and grey. So we progressed through the winter, and we had trips to Brussels as well. Preparations were now taking place for further actions. We moved up to Nijmegen for the assault on the Siegfried Line. There was to be an Artillery barrage, and at the same time the Middlesex were to fire a million rounds in the direction of Kleve. This was called operation "Pepperpot" and Lt Col Browne, our CO, was commanding it. The Canadians had been holding this line and had left a string of anti-tank grenades close to a tree on the footpath. These had been drawn across the road as part of their defences. The barrage went on for about 3 hours and by 8am tanks were queued down the road, and infantry were marching down the sides. Young boys these, with white faces, not weather-beaten veterans like us. Then a jeep came along driving down the footpath and it suddenly shot 30 feet into the air. It had driven over those grenades. The bodies of the occupants were lying in the field alongside afterwards. It was our CO and driver. Our Sergeant Major wrapped them in blankets and buried them by the roadside.
We packed up and followed the infantry into Kleve, which had been wrecked by shells and bombs, and went onwards the next day to Goch where there was a castle which had been on fire. It was dark now, there were lights within the castle so we crept in, there was a white gowned surgeon operating at a table, we sat down and rested. There was a motto painted on the wall, in German, which in my translation said "Who will live must work". We pulled out the following day.
Preparations began for the Rhine crossing which took place on 24th March. The 15th Scottish Division was in centre forward position again. We moved up the previous Thursday to Xanten, all the area was covered by smoke to cover our movements, and we spent Friday night in a wood, on guard in turns, we got no sleep. The crossing was at Saturday midnight preceded by the usual artillery barrage. The gun crew were to carry the gun and tripod and as many boxes of ammunition as possible which wasn't much. I was left with the carier, word came back of a successful bridgehead, but I was still anxious because, if they were in trouble the ammunition would only last a few minutes. I finally went over, with my carrier loaded on to an Alligator Tank, and I was soon on the other side and had found my crew. It was 11am. The 51st Highland Division had another successful bridgehead at Wesel. Then the Airborne troops came over, parachutes and gliders, and the job was complete. I lose track of time here.
At 11am on Sunday 25th we moved on, we must have been on the move all night and we stopped in a farm yard in the early morning. The first thing I did was to fill up with petrol. Then we had breakfast and I went back to the carrier, which I had parked under a shed. I met a man with a red beret, I knew him - it was Jack Chamberlain. He worked at Porritts (Ramsbottom) where I did, so we just had a chat and on he went. I thought, I'll check my oil with the dip-stick, but on withdrawing I couldn't see the hole to put it back, so I flicked my cigarette lighter. Whoosh! The petrol vapour was still hanging about after filling up. The camouflage nets were all burning, so I put them out with the fire extinguisher. It was all out. I went back to the house, I was gasping for breath, my face was burned. They insisted on me going to the Regimental Aid Post, where they smothered me with oatmeal cream and bandaged all my head up like the invisible man. From RAP you had to go to CCS - Casualty Clearing Station, and so on till you got to hospital. At CCS they gave me a shot of morphine and then I went on in the front passenger seat of an ambulance to hospital at Venraij in Holland. I sat on a stool and waited with my head on my hand and my elbow on the table and went to sleep. It was Tuesday night and I hadn't shut my eyes since last Thursday. Then they came and put me to bed. A beautiful Red Cross nurse said "I am going to look after you, you're battle weary". I felt much better the following morning and the bandages were taken off. "Third degree burns" they said, and in 4 days I was sent out convalescent where two well known footballers took us for PT which was football.
Volunteers were asked for to drive stores up from Helmond in Holland to Osnabruck in Germany, so in spite of the old adage "Don't volunteer for anything", I volunteered and that was the end of the war for me. We had to take a truck to Helmond, load it ourselves and drive to Osnabruck, it was a day each way. At first we had two to a truck and then later only one. I was with a Glasgow bus driver and he taught me the knack of driving diesel trucks. The dump at Helmond was on a recreation ground and some people living nearby asked me to stay the night, which I did on a few occasions. The man regretted the fact that he had lost his fat tummy during the war.
By May 8th I was in a holding Battalion, waiting for dispersal to some unit. We moved to Celle, which was a lovely town, we were in barracks there. Among my souvenirs I have a small book of the Thanksgiving Service of the British Second Army, the order of service. I was in Helmond and at the cinema where we were entertained in the winter. I was by myself, I don't know why I was there, but I went to this service and I got the book. After Celle, where we could see the smoke rising from the Belsen horror camp, we went on toward Hamburg. Somewhere I can't remember I saw one of our own Company trucks and I knew the driver, so I asked for a lift and he took me to Lubeck where I got another to Schoenburg and back to my own company. We went from there one day to an airfield outside Wismar, where General Dempsey CO 2nd Army thanked all members of 15th Scottish Division for their help and support during the Campaign. He had come to say goodbye as he was now leaving. (Pipes and drums of 15th Scottish). I always thrilled to the pipes and drums and still do, it brings many memories. We were now doing guard duty on the frontier between us and the Russians. Later we moved to Lubeck, and our platoon was billeted in a house at 29 Uhland St, from where we did various duties and had quite a pleasant lifestyle.

Written in 1997 by Edwin Longworth, 1915-2002.

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