大象传媒

I cannot remember if we used that phrase鈥�. 鈥楤ale out鈥� when evacuating our vehicles in times of emergency.

I鈥檓 not sure if it was used by Major Bindon Blood on that fateful February day 1945 when he, Bert Loveridge and yours truly had to get out of the Humber Light Recce car in a hurry.

Major Blood was Squadron Commander of 鈥楥鈥� Sqdn 43rd Reconnaissance regiment. Bert was our driver and I was the Gunner/Wireless operator. We had been up this long road somewhere in the Cleve area [Germany] I believe it was, and it wound through densely wooded sections. The trees lined each side making it something of an avenue.

We approached the troop that the Major intended to visit. [There were four troops in a reconnaissance regiment, three of which consisted of large and small armored cars and bren gun carriers and the fourth had assault troopers in American half tracks].

I was busy with the wireless set and then I looked out of the turret and realized that we were passing some parked carriers.

At that time we came under shell or mortar fire, or so it seemed. Actually the bombs were crashing down on the trees and the branches were in turn coming down and the noise was tremendous. I have wondered since whether our car鈥檚 movements that morning prompted the attack.

We stopped in front of a farmhouse which seemed to shield us from where it seemed the fire was coming from. We had not contacted any of our chaps at that stage. There was an explosion very close to the LRC and it rocked the car. This presumably prompted the Major to tell Bert to move from the area. Corporal Loveridge started the engine and we pulled away from the farmhouse into what may have been the view of the German mortar team.

At least, that鈥檚 how it felt when after a few yards the engine stopped. Bert stabbed at the starter again and again and it became obvious that we were not going anywhere in our armored car.

Did the C.O. shout 鈥楤ale out鈥�? Bert told me fifty years afterwards that the Major did not even tell him to move the car after we were hit. My memory is quite vague about that.

It is quite clear about us all running to another farmhouse for shelter, joined now by some of the carrier crews. We had passed some parked carriers and I wondered why there seemed to be an overcoat left behind in one of the carriers, it being a bitterly cold day.

I had only a fleeting glance. Two men of the regiment were lost on the 15th February 1945. Was that the day we baled out? Was that overcoat in fact one of the chaps killed that day?

Memories and facts become very vague and often very wrong. On page 117 of "Record of a Reconnaissance Regiment鈥� it states that Cpl Loveridge got the vehicle back to Tactical HQ despite the holes and tyres in ribbons etc. Not true!

The LRC would not go anywhere because its petrol feed had been ruptured and the carburettor had had just enough in it to get us from behind the farmhouse and then it was 鈥楤ale Out鈥� time.

At the farmhouse, the German civilians had barricaded the front door probably for protection, not to keep us out. It took some work to get through the pile of furniture and when we did, I realised that some of the chaps were wounded. One had injuries in the lower stomach area and in obvious distress. I think one would prefer to be killed than that. Bert told me fifty years after, that one of the chaps moving the furniture had a piece of his wounded arm hanging down as he struggled with us.

The mortars continued to crash down around the farmhouse for a while, but eventually must have stopped and the Major ordered a retreat. The carrier men went presumably in their vehicles. We did not, for whatever reason and it appeared that the C.O. with Bert and myself would be making our exit on foot.

Major Blood was a kindly sort of man and I do not think that he ordered me to go back to our LRC. however I did, perhaps I volunteered to return to the car for the wireless codes, the Bren gun, the maps and even Bert鈥檚 Sten gun. We had left in such a hurry and taken nothing.

I climbed up on the side of the car away from where the Germans perhaps were and tried to unclip the Bren. Normally this is easy, but of course, I was all thumbs. At last I got back to the farmhouse with my load. I even had two pouches of bren ammo.

At the start Major Blood helped by holding one end of the Bren gun. Although Bert must by now have had some of the gear, the C.O. must have felt that he had to assist us. His long legs were in a different gear to mine and eventually I told him I could manage. He could be very awkward sometimes and was always in trouble with his tank suit sips and with his microphone headset etc!

Major Blood did not need telling twice to let go of the Bren and forged on ahead. At least he knew which way to go. I had no idea where I was at any time in the war. I was the radio man and once away from the 19 set I was completely disorientated.

Bert and I somehow managed to follow the Major and eventually we were reunited with the Squadron. A patrol went out and recovered our dear old car. It was in a bad way with all the boxes containing our personal stuff ruptured with shrapnel. The tyres were in shreds and in particular the little canvas turret cover that used to hang down behind my turret was ripped badly.

My head would have been a couple of inches away when that last fateful bomb landed right next to the engine compartment. How lucky not to have had a direct hit and yet what odds would there be on the shrapnel flying up at an angle as it did under the armour-plating and cutting the petrol line to the carb?

It鈥檚 all about luck in wartime and being in the right or wrong place at the right or wrong time.

Cpl. Roy Merrett G/op HQ Troop 鈥楥鈥� Sqdn 43rd Recce

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