- Contributed byÌý
- WMCSVActionDesk
- People in story:Ìý
- George Green
- Location of story:Ìý
- North Africa
- Background to story:Ìý
- Royal Navy
- Article ID:Ìý
- A8027363
- Contributed on:Ìý
- 24 December 2005
NAVAL HISTORY OF G.T.H GREEN: LANDING ON SICILY
We were getting browner and browner and looking more like Arabs every day that passed. We knew of course that very shortly we should be in the thick of the fighting again; word had got round that we were intended for the invasion of Sicily so we made the best of every day, not knowing how many more we might have left. What a holiday after the horrors of the ‘Russian’ and ‘Med’ convoys. So we waited for the dreaded signal ‘Embark’.
It came about two months after we had arrived at Hammamet. We were ordered to assemble at LA Goullette, the port of Tunis, to embark on an invasion barge for Sicily. These were flat bottomed boats quite easy to drive on and off if you kept the wheels on the ramps, if not, you were in the sea and in a lot of trouble from the Embarkation Officer.
In due course we found our location on the upper deck, port side. It was awful. We had to sleep, eat, wash and go to the toilet all in that spot. There was hardly any water aboard just enough for the odd cup of tea but certainly not for washing yourself or clothes and imagine in the midday sun it was about 120°. The reflection off the metal deck made it seem hotter. We sweated it out, trying to find what shade we could, praying that soon we would put to sea where there would be a breeze - hopefully. We waited there two days which seemed like an eternity.
We had been a little worried about going into action again but these living conditions focused our minds on our immediate problems. We all stank, our tempers were getting shorter and shorter, a hasty word would bring a fist and next to no time there was a fight. Then the orders came to sail for Sicily and away we went out into the sea into the open and thank god there was a good breeze. So we sailed on towards the island. The first night at sea was uneventful as regards the war, we were not attacked. But the cold, it was so cold, we were all shivering, a few hours before we could not get cool and now we could not get warm. How our bodies stood up to the contrast of hot and cold, I'll never know. Then, shortly after the middle watch (12 -4 am) went on, the sea decided to get choppy which made things even more unpleasant.
These landing craft were flat bottomed so when the swell hit us she just floundered from one wave to another. She would rise about 12 feet and then drop suddenly. Your stomach would rise and then be in your boots in seconds, very uncomfortable. I have said before that I enjoyed the sea no matter how rough, but this motion was very off putting and different to any other ship I had sailed on. Soon there were lots of sailors bending over the side being sick, believe me, sickness is awful. It makes you want to die, you do not care if the ship sinks. When, at different times, we had been transporting soldiers, their remarks concerning the sea were unprintable, most of them preferring to face the Germans than the rough sea.
After many days, I cannot remember how many, we reached Syracuse harbour in Sicily. The night before we landed, the glider borne troops had been sent in to hold the roads and save the bridges from being blown up. However, this was a catastrophe. The American pilots of the towing planes had been attacked by German fighters and in their panic had let slip the gliders before they had got to there destination. Most of them hit the sea and the beaches, very short of their target.
We saw the next day, the result of this panic. Most of the gliders had crashed killing the majority of the soldiers inside them. Those not killed in the crash were drowned. It was absolutely horrific. All these young men in the prime of their lives had died without firing a shot. Times like this made me feel very angry at the futility of it all.
However, we eventually got ashore without too much trouble. We were attacked by German aircraft at dawn, then again at dusk but they did not press home the attack survived. It was getting quite dark when we and the HQ group were assembled on the quayside waiting for the word to go. It was a dark night, there were no lights on the lanes and roads, so we had to crawl along slowly. We had no headlights to help us.
Once or twice we nearly went in the ditches. Eventually I told one of my sailors to walk in front, it was slow but sure. It took us about two hours to reach the camp site. It was nothing more than a field, which had been cleared of bracken and suchlike. No sooner had we found our position on the site, and settled down, my Captain came to me and said he wanted a signal sent to Algiers. We had no lights in our camp, so it was impossible to set up my transmitter and receiver in the dark. Now and again the moon came out of the clouds but the light was insufficient for the job. However, the Captain insisted that the signal must at once. I had noticed when we came on the site a motorcycle despatch rider which gave me an idea. I sorted around in the darkness and luckily I found the signals tent where he was and pleaded with him for the loan of his bike. It was a Matchless, a bike I had ridden before. After a discussion he agreed to let me have it. I had to give him a sip of rum the next day.
So I set off to Syracuse in the darkness. What a nightmare it was - pot holes in the road, running into ditches. I never thought I should get there but I did. Eventually I found the port Wireless Officer and asked him to send the signal to HQ. It was not until a long time afterward I realised what a dangerous ride it was. There were Germans on the loose just looking for information which I had carried to the P.W.O. However, it was all part of the war game. One had to get through one day at a time, there was no tomorrow in our minds.
It did come though, very hot, very dry and humid at the same time. The powers that be decided that we should mover our camp to another site miles up the road away from Syracuse. It turned out to be close to the spot on the beach where the airborne troops had landed so tragically, losing 80% of the men killed or wounded. There must have been at least twenty gliders in various stages of crash destruction in the sea, overturned on the beach, burned out. It was an awful sight, it took a long time to collect all the bodies and bury them. I had a friend who was in the airborne. I did wonder it he had died. Much later I heard that he had survived and with the rest of his squad had managed to stop the Germans from blowing up some bridges. What a price to pay, war is not glamorous when you see it in stark reality.
NAVAL HISTORY OF G.T.H GREEN: A BRIEF TRIP TO HOSPITAL
We settled down in our new site. It was so hot, all we wore during the day were khaki shorts, we were so brown we looked like Arabs. But the flies, they haunted us, in your eyes, nose, ears, mouth and when you were eating they just descended on the plate. They would have the gravy before you could. The food was pretty bad, nearly always fried up eggs, spam, bacon if we could get it.
After 4 weeks I began to feel exhausted and ill, with absolutely no energy at all. All I wanted to do was to lie down in my small tent and die. I forgot to mention that our camp site was in an almond orchard. I love nuts, and seeing all those nuts hanging from the trees, just could not resist them, so I ate more and more, sometimes instead of the food from the RAF Cookhouse. Problems arose when I could not go the bog (toilet). This was a big hole in the ground with planks across to sit on, the smell was diabolical with millions of flies all fighting to get at you and try as I might nothing would come.
After a week, I went to the doctor who was an Officer in the RAF. He examined me, asked a lot of questions, then decided to send me to the RAF field hospital about 10 miles inland. It was a rotten journey, with the roads being so bumpy, the ambulance was most uncomfortable. The heat in there was like a furnace. Was I relieved when we eventually arrived at the ‘hospital'!. This was a row of tents with stretchers on the floor, there were no beds~ Can you imagine the heat of a Sicilian summer on these canvas tents. We lay there and sweated it out, the perspiration just pouring from every pore. The smell of bodies was not nice, I wanted to die I felt so ill. By this time I had a feeling of nausea with all the smells and heat. I would loved to have been sick. Anything to relieve the feeling in my stomach.
After 4 hours the doctor in charge came to see me. He was not very ~ impressed. He had been used to seeing men shot and wounded. I suppose to him it was nothing. However, he told the sick bay orderly to give me some castor oil. Usually, after taking that I would have been dashing for the toilet in a matter of minutes. When the doctor came the next day I still had not been. He then ordered me another dose of castor oil, but double this time. This I swallowed with difficulty (ever had castor oil?) and waited hopefully for sometime, but nothing happened. I felt dreadful. I had not eaten anything for 3 days. The water was in very short supply and tasted horrible. Three more days passed. I was still the same. The doctor seemed a little more concerned now, talking vaguely of operations. I did not like the idea much. Then he had a chat with me explaining that he would try one more medicant, if that did not work he would have to operate.
He gave me this thick yellow fluid which took some swallowing. However, I got it down eventually. The doctor’s assistant told me that this really was the last resort. The doctor had told him that the medicant I had taken was quite dangerous if it did not go through you straight away. I was not a happy man. But joyl The next day I managed to go, it was just like passing concrete!!
From then on it was not too bad. There was one incident which is worth recording. After I had spent hours sitting on a plank over a mass of human excrement with the heat and millions of flies, the feeling of hunger came. I had not eaten properly for daysl
At breakfast time the next day an orderly came round asking who wanted breakfast. I was so hungry I immediately said that I did. He brought me bacon and eggs which I scoffed very quickly. An hour later I was so sick I thought I should die. However, I got over it. At midday the doctor came to see me and asked how I felt. I said I had been sick. He then asked what I had eaten. When I told him he went ‘up the wall’, he was so angry. He sent someone for the orderly and asked him why he had given me the breakfast He said, ‘because I had asked for it’. The doctor then gave him a real telling off, apparently I was not supposed to have any grease of any kindl When the doctor left the tent, the orderly gave me a telling off, calling me a few choice names, believe me, after that he nearly starved me to death. All I could have to eat was boiled potatoes or plain bread, nevertheless I was getting better.
My stay in this field hospital was coming to an end. We heard the rumour that we were to be evacuated to Tripoli (or close to). What a nightmare of a journey that was. The short air trip was alright but the road journey in those old ambulances was murder. There was a badly wounded soldier in the stretcher above me in the ambulance, so with every bump the poor chap groaned in pain. Eventually we arrived at the hospital.
It was a single storey building covering quite a large area, very spacious and airy. Although it was very hot outside, inside was quite pleasant. It was like being on holiday. Nothing to do but sleep, eat, sunbathe and get fit again. I can assure you, no-one there wanted to get well too quickly, it seemed a long way from the war. However, time marched on, and approximately 4 weeks later my discharge from the hospital came through.
Now quite fit, but told I must not eat grease etc apparently my diet over the last 2/3 years had given me yellow jaundice. Heaven knows how diet could be arranged. After all, Army, Navy and RAF cooks were not known for their understanding of individual diets. Things like diets were unknown in those days. You ate what was in front of you or you went hungry.
This story was submitted to the People’s War site by Anastasia Travers a volunteer with WM CSV Actiondesk on behalf of George Green and has been added to the site with his permission. George Green fully understands the sites terms and conditions.
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