大象传媒

During my stay in Northern Ireland with the 53rd Infantry Division, we carried out many military exercises in local towns or villages, where we would practise 'attacking' or 'defending'. Unfortunately, many of these exercises seemed to take place during bitterly frosty and cold nights when we would often set up a 'Divisional Headquarters' in some farm outbuilding or rough outhouse. We, also, rehearsed setting up 'Regimental' and ;'Battalion Headquarters' at this time. Eventually, in June 1944, all the units of the Division were performing these exercises for real and these very early forays had certainly toughened us up for the serious fray and situation we found ourselves in.

Many soldiers from different areas of the UK met and fell in love with local girls. I was one of these men and I came back in 1943 to marry Mollie Knowles, whom I had lost touch with. I discovered that she had volunteered for the Forces -- as did many Ulster people. Her preferred choice was to be a vehicle driver. She enlisted initially in Belfast on this promise and, also, with the knowledge that she would have to train at Bridgenorth with her WAAF unit. However, on arrival at Bridgenorth, she was told that she was actually half an inch too short in height to become a driver! She told her Commanding Officer that she had been recruited under false pretences and would be returning home. The Officer told her that she could not return home as she had now enlisted and was taking 'the King's Shilling'. Knowles said that the King could have his 'shilling' back! She was warned that she would be arrested if she tried to leave the Camp. Prolonged discussions took place offering her jobs as a Batman, Cook, Hygienist etc., etc., What was the Officer to do with this headstrong Irish lass? She suggested that she send her father a letter tellling him about the situation. Her father received it and wrote back the following reply, which was seen by her Commanding Officer: "Tell them to go to Hell!". The Officer kindly offered to try another tack and set her a test for the Photographic Section. Happily, she passed that and thoroughly enjoyed her work from then on -- part of that work actually involved the placement of cameras in Bombers prior to raids on the Continent.

Taking a short break from my story, I'd like to fast forward to 1990 when I returned to Northern Ireland to take part in a Remembrance Service at Derriaghy Christ Church. At one such service, I was asked to read a poem I had composed as a tribute to the part Northern Ireland had played in the War. Here it is:

The World War generaion, of whom are left so few
In horror saw a Europe laid prostrate and subdued.
An evil power bestrewed war's flames o'er land and from the air;
on nations thus struck down, descended deep despair.

But in those dark and threatening days a people stood alone
and bore a fearful onslaught, as ne'er before was known.
Yea, loudly - let it be said - Britain and brave Ulster, side by side,
strove 'gainst overwhelming odds, alone, to thwart the evil tide.

Firm and resolute though all around seemed lost, we stood
with faith and prayer and hope, to stem the fising flood.
Succeeding generations one day may think to say: this was indeed their finest hour -
and prayerful one will say, in truth, 'twas providential power.

Thus, now, again, in reverence we stand in thought and silent grief
forgetting not Empire and Allied aid that brought at last relief.
But, above all, our lasting thoughts and prayers for those
who first endured -- and, to the brave - too soon in their respose.

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