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15 October 2014
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The Last Shell in Africa

by ateamwar

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Archive List > British Army

Contributed by听
ateamwar
People in story:听
Joan Larkin
Location of story:听
Croydon
Background to story:听
Civilian
Article ID:听
A4283552
Contributed on:听
27 June 2005

I first met Dennis at Clarke鈥檚 College in Croydon in 1936 where we were trained in various aspects of office work. He was a very handsome man with beautiful big blue eyes. We got on very well and it wasn鈥檛 long before we went out together on a regular basis.

When we left college, we went into different jobs but kept in touch and saw each other regularly. At Easter 1939, we decided to get engaged. I was very happy because I loved him so much.

When the war broke out, Dennis was called up into the Royal Artillery and went through the usual training. I continued my job in the office of a firm at Blackfriars, London who made measuring instruments for HM Customs. On the 27th of July 1940 we got married despite not knowing what was around the corner. This was not long after Dunkirk remember!

Apart from the odd bits of leave he managed, we saw very little of each other. In October 1940 Dennis came home on embarkation leave before being posted to Greece. After the fall of that country, he ended up on Crete before finally arriving in North Africa. As part of the Eighth army he took part in a number of actions and had to escape from Tobruk when that fell.

When the Allies were pushed right back into Egypt, Dennis was recommended for a commission and went to OCTU for training as an officer. On receiving his commission, he was posted to 111th Field Regiment, Royal Artillery. When the tide of war changed in the Allies favour Dennis was part of that massive army chasing the Germans all the way across North Africa. On the 12th of May 1943, the remaining Germans in Africa were trapped in a pincer movement by the Eighth and First armies and the fighting was all but over.

The CO of the Regiment, Dennis and a signaller sited their truck in an orchard in a town called Enfidaville, Tunisia. Resistance was all but at an end and the Germans knew it but they decided to fire off a last defiant shell. This was the last action of the war in Africa and that shell hit the truck with the three men in it. They were all killed instantly. Second Lieutenant Dennis William Granville Cassell is buried in Enfidaville war cemetery.

I received the news in a rather strange way because one of Dennis鈥檚 fellow officers contacted his mother by priority mail and asked her to visit and give me the news before the official notification. She lived quite near me and was very brave in doing this. I didn鈥檛 cry when I heard but was sick in my stomach. Dennis was the only man I had ever loved and now he was gone. This happened to many people but that didn鈥檛 make it any easier to bear. Dennis wrote his last letter to me on the 9th of May, he was killed on the 12th and I received the letter on the 17th. He spoke about the desert war being nearly at an end and his hopes for us in the future. I still have all his letters.

In time I returned to work because that way I didn鈥檛 have time to think about my loss. My company had been bombed out of its Blackfriars premises by this time and we had moved to a new site near Guildford. It was quite a journey for me and on some occasions could be quite dangerous. I had a near miss when German bombers hit the tram network and I had to get off one very quickly. They were put out of action so I ended up getting a lift in a coal lorry. I also did civil defence duties and was called out one night in a hurry. I only had my nightie on and slipped my rather grand fox fur shawl over that and put my tin hat on. When I reported to my post, the men all laughed and made jokes. I must have looked a right sight.

After Dennis died, I didn鈥檛 think that I would ever marry again because we had loved each other so much. After the war ended, I used to go out with friends and met a man who had also been in the British army during the war but had been captured and ended up in a prisoner of war camp in Austria for more than four years. His name was Martin and eventually we started going out together. We married in 1952 and our daughter Frances was born in 1955. Martin died a few years ago and I now live on my own but quite near my daughter.

'This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by 大象传媒 Radio Merseyside鈥檚 People鈥檚 War team on behalf of the author and has been added to the site with his / her permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.'

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