大象传媒

I was born in Norfolk, and in 1939 was working as a civilian store man at RAF Feltwell. I naturally thought I would be called up to the RAF, and was therefore surprised to be told in 1940 to report to the Royal Artillery. My boss said I would be sent to Cranwell for training and could transfer afterwards. However, when I passed my exams, the sergeant sent me to Norwich. I kept trying for transfers, but with no luck.

We were in Nelson Barracks for a while, but then moved to Ipswich where we were lodged in private houses. This was at the start of March 1940. I remember we paraded in Landseer Park and trained in the streets. We were there about six months before moving to Shottisham near Woodbridge. Our guns were placed forcing the sea. The only thing was that they were all left over from the 1914 鈥� 18 war, and I don鈥檛 know what would have happened if we had had to fire them.

I was a dispatch rider for the unit, but went too fast one day and had an accident. I broke my ankle, and was sent back to Ipswich in plaster. There wasn鈥檛 much else for me to do, so I went to the picture house. I saw a nice young lady there; actually she fell over my foot and apologised to me. After that she used to cycle over to Shottisham to see me. One day I was on Guard Duty when she came over. The Sergeant felt sorry for me and let me have some extra time off. We were married in 1942.

At that time you could be granted 28 days Agricultural Leave to help your father with the harvest. I was granted the time but went and got married instead! We had our honeymoon at St Mary Cray, but after only three days got a telegram from my father to say he needed me for the harvest. News also came through that you could extend this leave by two weeks. I duly reported to the nearest army depot and gave my particulars, and went back to the farm. When I finally got back to my depot, I found I had been listed as a deserter. The Red Caps had even been round to the wife鈥檚 house and had stopped her marriage allowance. Luckily I was able to get it sorted!

I was with the 72nd Medium Regiment. Our main base was officially at Sevenoaks in Kent, but often moved round the country on manoeuvres.

In June 1944 we boarded a boat in London Docks and went to join the invasion, landing near Arramanche. We lost a lot of men around Caen.

The Germans had a habit of tying wire across the road at head height to get us dispatch riders. We lost many men that way. I just kept low and drove fast!

I remember a time when we had been on iron rations for about two or three weeks. One day we were delighted to be told that we would be getting fresh vegetables that day. We queued up for our meal that night with anticipation. The Germans were up on a neighbouring hill and saw us. They shelled us. We lost a lot of men. I was lucky. I had been at the back of the queue and survived.

The Falaise Gap was also very bad. We were travelling one night. There had been heavy shelling and dead animals were at the side of the road. We got the order to make camp, so pulled off the road and settled down between two rows of trees. When we woke up in the morning we found that we were among a lot of German dead. They hadn鈥檛 been buried properly, but just laid out and covered with soil. To wake up in the morning and see an arm sticking out of the ground is an image you never lose.

We went on from here to Belgium and had a great welcome in Brussels; they must have thought we had won! We were nearly diverted to help support the Battle of the Bulge.

I remember we spent Christmas Day 1944 in a chicken hut. We were just pleased to be out of the cold.

We were the first Artillery Regiment to cross the Rhine, being sent over to shell the retreating Germans. I was actually at the surrender as well.

We ended up in Hamburg. There was hardly a building standing. One night I went for a walk and found a church that hadn鈥檛 been damaged. My friend Bill played the organ while I pumped. As we finished we heard a shuffling noise. A German lady had been asleep. She shuffled past us, pausing only long enough to wish us 鈥淕ute nacht鈥�

We were always being warned to be aware of fifth columnists. You never knew when you were safe. I ended up on the Dutch German border doing peace keeping duties until I was demobbed in 1946.

While we were in Holland I remember we liberated a concentration camp called Vught, near a town called Hertogenbosch. The smell was terrible. I later took an officer to Belsen but didn鈥檛 want go in with him.

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