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I joined the Royal Signals in Manchester on 6 September 1939 and went to France that October. There I joined the 2nd Air Formation Signals at Bouzy-aux-Marne [sic]. The unit was responsible for all grounds communication for the airfields in France.

The headquarters of the Royal Air Force (RAF) was the Advance Striking Force (codename Panther) at Reims. The telephone number was Bouzy 43.

Champagne at 9d (6p) a bottle

The unit consisted of six sections of 60, mainly from the General Post Office (GPO) in London but with 60 from Manchester and another 60 from Glossop. It was housed in the compounds of Moët et Chandon, and our company office was above the grape presses. Opposite our gate was the compound of Veuve Clicquot, and there were several other companies in the village. Champagne was 9d (6p) a bottle.

In the middle of May 1940, the Germans broke through at Sedan, thus threatening Reims. We lost communication with the Auxiliary Air Force (AAF) at Reims, so the major sent a party to find out what was happening.

Everyone had left or was leaving

We found that the RAF had scarpered. We got the operations’ clock as a souvenir, a dozen brand-new Dodge trucks (our transport consisted of a baker's van, coal lorries and so on, brought over from England), a dozen Lewis guns and all the ammunition and petrol we could carry.

In the next 24 hours the roads were thick with refugees from the Ardennes. As they reached our village, we pulled out. Most of the unit was absent, away on airfields, as far distant as Metz, Verdun, Nancy, around the north at Amiens and Arrus [sic]. But we got the HQ company (myself included), 14th Line Section (Glossop), 15th Line Section (Manchester) and a line section from London.

A welcome of sorts from German bombers

We tried Colomiers — no joy there — and we tried at the airport at Romilly. There was a reception there — German bombers.

Then we went to Troyes, Sens, Orléans, Le Mans then Bloid [sic]. In June we dumped Signals’ stores in the Loire.

Evacuation of Paris and Dunkirk

Sometime after 10 June we saw the evacuation of Paris and watched a French armoured division going, so they said, to oppose the Italians, who had come into the war. Sometime after this we met French troops, who told us about Dunkirk, about how they had been evacuated to England, refitted and landed back in France. They had been equipped with US uniforms and rifles.

About this time (remembering that we had had no rations for several weeks except what we had scrounged) the major — he was Australian — told us it was every man for himself, and he was making for St Nazaire. Rumours around the French population told us that the French were about to give in.

Desperate measures

We arrived at St Nazaire about 16 June and tried to get some food from the shops. The people were very antagonistic, and I had to point my rifle at a shopkeeper before he would sell me some food.

Reaching the port we were told to park our vehicles in a portion of the beach where there were hundreds of vehicles, field guns and the rest. We wanted to set fire to ours, but the military in charge forbade it.

House of women refugees

I wandered around the beach all day. As nightfall approached, I met a girl, a Belgian refugee, who told of a house where I could sleep on the floor. I went there, and there were 28 women, all refugees, living there.

Next morning I went back to the beach again. Eventually, I heard a voice calling, 'Vilfred' (that's how she said my name). She gave me a slice of bread with marmalade on it.

A ship with 5,000 aboard goes down

Sometime during 17 June we assembled. Small boats — manned by the navy, I believe — started to ferry us out to the troop ship Lancastria, a 20,000-ton liner, offshore.

We got most of the Glossop boys on, and a German bomber appeared. He made a bombing run over the ship then it went up in flames. I estimate there were about 5,000 men on board.

Survivors burned and thick with oil

Things got foggy about my recollections then. I remember going on a 'button boat' down by the harbour, where I had room to sit down on deck. All through the night we were machine gunned.

We replied by setting the Lewis guns we had carried all the way from Reims. We had an old sergeant major from World War One who had taught us how to fire them. Meanwhile, survivors from the Lancastria, some badly burned and all thick with oil, had been arriving.

Next day we set sail. Somewhere at sea the alarm was given. Out of the mist appeared ships, battleships, cruisers, destroyers and so on with an aircraft carrier in tow. I believe this was the Cardinal Richelieu. I understood it was the remnants of the French navy fleeing Brest bound for Dakar.

Home to a band playing

Eventually, we arrived at Plymouth to a band playing on the Hoe. We disembarked and spent most of the day on the quayside eating 'bully' or tinned-beef sandwiches and drinking tea provided by the Sally Ann and the Women’s Voluntary Service (WVS).

We were put on a train that went along the holiday beaches, where the holidaymakers waved at us. We stopped at Bordon [sic], where we went to the barracks and got cleaned up. I hadn't washed or taken my clothes off for a month.

Eventually, I went to Hendon Aerodrome and stayed in London through the Blitz, until, about August 1941, I was posted to Aldershot.

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