大象传媒

One-Five-Five.
.............

Honour to One-Five-Five!
Immortal story!
Nine men remain alive
Battered and gory.
"Victory" on their lip
See how the Hun they whip
While they of Honour sip,
Honour and Glory!
............................................
End of "Gunner magazine" report. The Gunner Team has now moved to Larkhill and its current Editor is Major (Retd) Mike Shaw. - Deputy Editor is Kate Knowles.

email address is - gunner@hqdra.army.mod.uk

HQ DRA,Artillery Centre,
Larkhill, Salisbury, Wiltshire SP4 8QT
Civ: 01980 63 4204
Mil: 94322 2204
............................................

SIDI N'SIR

ONE-FIVE-FIVE

By Vivian Bewick

Dawn broke on Sidi N'Sir, and the mist-wreaths thinned and died
As the daylght's probing fingers crept along the mountain side;
Lightly touched on bank and boulder, on a muzzle staring blind,
And flowed along the barrel to the tense white face behind.

Little time we had that dawning for our parting breakfast cup,
For the daylight came in thunder as the mortars opened up.
One moment on the crest we saw those upward spires of smoke,
Then Chekak Ridge dissolved in dust as all the Battery spoke.
We took them as we found them and we gave them shell for shell,
By Chekak Ridge and Mateur Road and half-way back to Hell;
Till the Hampshires sent us warning from their post upon the flanks,
And we heard the clash of armour and we turned to meet the tanks.

As dreams that come in daytime, as shapes that pass in haze,
We heard the breech-blocks slamming, we saw our muzzles blaze.
Through spouting earth and smoke-drift we saw the tanks attack;
We saw them reach the minefield and we saw them beaten back.
Had we eyes for things above us, where the Stuka screamed in pride?
Had we eyes for things below us, where our comrades fell and died?
Had we thoughts of home behind us and the friends of our abode?
No; we never knew we lost them. We were there to guard the road.

One by one our links were broken. Point 609 was gone;
The dumps were hit and burning; but the Battery carried on.
With eyes no more to see for us and cordite borne through flame,
We strove to break their massing and we broke them when they came.
Through a sheet of steel and fire, we could hear the mortars roar
And the sharp insistant chatter of the rapid '34';
While noon crept close and closer, till the sun was overhead
And we scarcely made more shadow than the still and silent dead.

Then again the Hampshires warned us and again we heard the tanks,
But they dared not face the Battery, so they drove upon our flanks;
Till the road was reached and taken, and the ammunition lines
Were as lost to us as sunlight to the convict in the mines.
Then we fought with smoke and star-shell and they took it for a sign,
And the Panzers came against us in a red and roaring line,
While the hull down squadrons raked us and the Stuka gave no rest,
And the sun descended slowly to the mountains of the west.

Yes; the twilight came on gently and the shadows grew more deep,
And the dead seemed faintly smiling; they were smiling in their sleep.
And though in peace went down at last, that last of all our suns,
The swan-song of the Battery was the thunder of the guns.

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