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This story has been added by CSV Volunteer Linda Clark on behalf of the author Major E. Donald Nisbet of the Honourable Artillery Company. The story is based on his diary which was written between September 1944 and February 1945. The site’s terms and conditions are fully understood.

It was September 14th 1944 when we left Eastbourne by a circuitous route which was in defiance of all normal rules of column control. We were in a team of four, Major Corcoran, Major Rose, Flight Lieutenant Wilson (a Canadian who lived in New York, was born and educated in England and who was quiet, decent and humorous). The ‘tent’ transit camp was under trees and whilst it was O.K. for me, it rather shocked some of the older and weaker members. I had forgotten how to use blankets so was slightly cold in the night.

The following morning we left the transit camp in an L.S.T. and there was some confusion on board. After order then counter order we ended up sleeping on trucks on the deck. Four in a fifteen hundredweight truck was a bit of a squeeze and I lay on a narrow seat, strapped in and unable to turn. We left at midnight and got up at dawn. We washed on deck and found we were back where we had started from. The engine had broken down! We disembarked and then embarked in another L.S.T. I had an argument with Rose about A. Huxley and psychology. Rose was rather like Fred Clarke, quiet and self assured. This time we slept below decks which was more comfortable but rather chilly.

On Tuesday September 19th we arrived in Arramanches which was a amazing feat of engineering with its ‘roads’ and jetties and there were a colossal number of ships. We disembarked and went a couple of miles inland to our transit camp which this time was in ridge tents which were acceptable. It was a dry hole for kip and I slept well.

The next day we started in convoy about ten o’clock and we had a most interesting journey. Corcoran and I travelled in the truck with the top down, with all the luggage. Caen was badly damaged in the outer parts and was largely just masses of rubble. Lisieux was heart rending, just rubble and Bernay, Evereux and Bivry, near Passy-sur-Eure were in a marsh!. It was dark when we arrived so I arranged for our food to be cooked in a café where we ate it. The people on the whole were cheerful, except in Caen and Lisieux where they seemed apathetic. They were all glad to see us, I think. They had not been starved but there were no luxuries; wine was scarce and very expensive, there was not much milk, there were few basics and in the café, there was only lemonade and green tea. That night we slept comfortably under a tree.

After a very rushed breakfast on Thursday 21st we left at 7.30a.m. passing Vernon, Gisors and Beauvais and fields of Autumn crocuses. We arrived at our next, good, transit camp at Arras early in the evening. It was a most interesting journey with much to see and it was good to see France again. German tanks and vehicles lined the route all the way but the damage to buildings, whist pretty serious was much less as we went north. One village was however in ruins and was deserted. I discovered that my French was still okay. Rose and Wilson got into trouble for holding up the convoy and we had to stay behind to help at the scene of an accident. An old man was knocked down by an m/c and I used my field dressings. That night we slept on camp beds in ridge tents which were very comfortable.

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