大象传媒

This story is written on behlf of my friend Jack Tear a member the Rushden Branch of The Royal British Legion. He is now 90 years of age and is one of the twindling number of survivors who landed on the Normandy beaches on 'D' Day

His story begins:-
I was a member of the Royal Marine Armoured Support Regiment, a unit specially formed to give close artillery support to the Commandos and other assault troops as they fought their way up the beaches from the landing craft. We were to go ashore
at the same time as them in waterproofed armoured tanks-apparently in previous landings the only heavy guns to help keep the enemies heads down were from ships two or three miles away.

The tanks and drivers had been seconded to the Marines from the Royal Armoured Corps, with the marines forming the rest of the crews. We had spent months painting each nut, bolt and welding with special rubber paint to make the tanks waterproof.High extensions had been fitted to the top of the exhaust so that the tanks could operate in water almost to the top of the turrets.I was in the co-drivers postion beside the driver, and when we entered the tank we secured the hatch to close us in. To make the hatches waterproof, long candles of soft sealing asbestos was put around the edges by our ammunition squad and this worked fine during underwater trials.

On June 4th 1944, the Sunday before 'D' Day, we left camp on the A18 near Havant,Hampshire in open topped trucks to go to our landing craft at Stokes Bay.

The roads were crowded with vehicles crawling along bumper to bumper. Every time we stopped, local people who guessed what was happening, greeted us with "Good Luck,God Bless" and gave us a rose saying "Heres a bit of Old Englandto take with you." It was very imotive.

On our arrival at the dock side the tanks were already chained to the decks of our landing craft and we went on board.There were only two tanks on the tiny flat bottomed craft. We were told they were made by a firm called KAISER in the USA.

Discomfort and apprehension made sleep impossible that night, and about 8 o'clock on the morning of June 5th we set sail for Normandy.

What a journey it was too, there was a heavy swell and our flat bottomed craft went rhythmically up and down,up and down, but occasionally it would catch the top of a wave and shudder as though it was going to break in two.

There were about twenty four persons on board, five in each tank crew, six Ammunition Squad Marines and about eight seamen, most of whom were sick at least once.

All through the day and night we endured this queasiness and then at daybreak on Tuesday 6th June we saw and marvelled at the magnitude of the invasion forces. As far as the eye could see each side and behind us were craft of every shape and size imaginable, whilst overhead bombers, fighters and transport planes towing two or three gliders each were all moving in the same direction.

About two miles from the beach we took up our posts in the tanks and started firing our 85 millimetre guns applying range and direction adjustments as instructed over the radio. At about 8.30am our craft struck the beach, our tanks were unchained and we entered the water. As soon as we did the sea poured in over the driver and myself.

In the excitement our ammunition squad had forgotten to apply the sealing wax to the hatches.
The intercom was put out of action by the water so we removed our headphones, and all intructions had to be shouted over the roar of the engine. All the air to feed this great engine was coming through the open turret and it felt like our eardrums were being sucked out, and each time the gun fired it felt like someone was clapping both hands over our ears at the same time, whilst acrid fumes from the shells being fired stung our throats and eyes.

We moved forward until the water stopped coming in,someone in the turret shouted "Our crafts been hit, they're wading ashore." One of ammunition squad came by and shouted "Erics been killed, Smithy Davies and some sailors have been wounded."
I felt numb we had only left the craft some ten minutes earlier. Eric Youngman was my special pal and was just 23 years old.

The other tank was still on the craft. marines and sailors had been sheltering behind it when a shell hit the superstructure and shrapnel splattered down on them.

We were now firing at gun implacements and other selected targets, occasionally we could hear shrapnel pepper the tank as shells exploded nearby. There had been about thirty 85 millimetre shells at my feet when we entered the water but most of these had been passed into the turret through the 'escape hatch'as required by the gunners.

After the gun implacements were taken by our assault troops we moved out of the water, each tank was towing two ammunition holders called Porpoises.
These resembled river punts with covers on. Medical corps personnel who were giving first aid to casualties placed several of them on our porpoises and we carried them higher up the beach.

Tanks with revolving flails in front were moving forwards and backward, and occasionally would explode a land mine hidden in the sand. Other tanks were laying wooden tracks from great rolls so that wheeled vehiles could move up the beach without getting stuck in the sand.

Other tanks of our unit came ashore, we got out to stretch our legs and replace the used shells from the porpoises. We also learned very quickly to throw ourselves to the ground every time an enemy shell screamed and exploded close to us, and never seemd to get bruised by doing so.

We examined our tank, pieces of red hot metal had become welded to it, and great chunks of rubber were gauged out of the track bogie wheels. The storage compartments above the tracks were pitted like pepper potts from enemy fire.

I looked around at the many casualties still being attended to on the beach,I thought of my friend Eric and all my other comrades who had died within the last few hours and thanked God that I was not one of them.

We took posts in the tank again and moved off the beach to attack targets further inland. This time I was acting as gunner, doing direct and indirect fire at targets seen and unseen, in conjunction with other tanks.

When darkness fell we took our turns on guard duty, with loaded 'Sten Guns' at the ready, and when at last we had time to sleep we crawled underneath the tank to do so.

These are my recollections of 'D Day, June 6 1944.

Jack Tear

Service number PO/X 113275.

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