大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War website by Helen Smith on behalf of John Rawlings, and has been added to the site with their permission. The author is fully aware of the terms and conditions of the site.

Chapter Nine

SECOND FRONT

Brentwood and its neighbouring Shenfield were one of the best areas in which we were billeted. It was in May/June and the weather was kind. Muriel and Jo were in Shenfield having breached the prohibitions of entry to this area. We had suffered damage to our house from buzz bombs and our friend, the Croydon Borough Engineer, managed to get special permission to evacuate to Essex. We had an excellent bunch of officers most of whom had been with the company from its earlier formation. Mess life was pleasant and Muriel and Jo were well received. Our sister company was suddenly ordered to take on a special assignment which involved Air Transport. The company was upgraded with younger men and a few of our own youthful officers were also drafted in. This was reason enough to throw a farewell party in the local hotel. I am sorry to say that it got rather out of hand. An inexhaustible supply of spirits was pressed on all and sundry. Muriel and I found it difficult to refuse but the contents of each glass was surreptitiously emptied into a series of flowerpots which decorated each side of the dance floor. My special friend, Dicky Daw, preferred to drink his share and as his condition deteriorated we decided to take him home. As we slowly dragged him along the main road, a couple of ladies in colourful dresses overtook us and to our consternation Dicky started to describe in a loud voice what he saw. 鈥淭he lady in front has a white frock with spots on. There are spots on the top and spots on the bottom鈥�. The last phrase was repeated ad lib interspersed with guffaws of laughter and a small variation in the words used 鈥� 鈥渟pots on the top and spots on her bottom鈥�. He then left out the first phrase and concentrated all his verbiage on the second鈥�. 鈥淪he鈥檚 got spots on her bottom鈥�. Dicky was a solicitor in his father鈥檚 firm in Exeter and was one of the politest gentlemen one could wish to meet. It is not surprising that he would not admit to such behaviour when he was eventually found sleeping in the bath at his mess the following morning.
It was only a week or two later that our call came. It was a Sunday and I was duty officer at Company office in the centre of Brentwood. I was very much on my own. It was warm and I may have been dozing when the telephone rang. The caller announced himself as a staff officer at War Office. By now I was fully awake. He asked for the OC but agreed to speak to me as the duty officer. Our company was to be drastically reformed. All vehicles, primarily Commers and Austins, were to be exchanged for Bedfords to be collected from various centres 鈥� locations to be decided. Our old vehicles were to be delivered in small groups to units all over England. All men above a certain level were to be sent to nominated depots together with the ill, halt, lame or undesirable. Replacements would arrive within the week. Written orders would follow. The changes would be complete within ten days. This information to be passed to the OC immediately. Having given the order, he became quite chatty and I knew that we were for the second front.
For obvious reasons, the next two weeks were chaotic. If a driver was delivering his Commer to Sunderland, he could not collect a replacement Bedford from Bristol at the same time and, if that driver was among those to be posted, then both vehicles stayed where they were. Apart from a few items, this was completed pretty well on time. What I hadn鈥檛 been told was that some of the Bedfords were articulated, whereas our existing vehicles were four wheelers. Whilst we collected them with untrained drivers, they were to cause some problems later.
The order to move to Portsmouth arrived and the company and some 140 new vehicles would leave at four a.m. the following day. Muriel was still in Shenfield and to leave her and Jo at three a.m. was a shattering experience. We travelled in groups of about twenty to avoid congestion but with the assurance that we would be met on the outskirts of Portsmouth to be shepherded to a temporary laager until called forward for embarkation. Loading was the responsibility of the RE鈥檚 (Royal Engineers) who did a magnificent job We approached the loading bay in stages, boring to the drivers, but in accordance with the RE鈥檚 plan to restrict the bays to the units actually loading. When our turn came we were told to reverse on to the TLC (tank landing craft). This caused a few hiccups, as some of the less experienced were unfamiliar with their new lorries. A major jam was threatened when the articulated vehicles arrived as reversing was an unknown art to most of our drivers. There was no panic or shouted commands or even confusion. As soon as a problem occurred one or more REs quickly climbed into the cab and, with an expertise it was a joy to watch, each vehicle was backed on to the craft with great precision. When fully loaded the ship moved into mid-stream anchored to await instructions. All this was an adventure to our contingent and it kept them from guessing the future.
We sailed that evening. The ship鈥檚 captain was a young Naval officer, possibly just out of training, and excited with his first command. I met him on the bridge soon after loading but when orders were received to proceed, I left him and, at his invitation, spent the night comfortably in his cabin with free access to his well stocked bar.
He woke me as dawn was breaking and we could see the low-lying beaches of Arromanches. The tide was out and the underwater defences were clearly visible and to be avoided as they were mined. A safe passage had been cleared and we nosed our way forward and gently ran onto the beach. We disembarked quickly with no opposition. It must have been very different on D day when the same beaches were under fire and bombardment. There was a steady stream of every type of vehicle, all routed to a specific spot on the beaches. It was several days after the initial landing and the urgent rush of transport units was due to the breakthrough at the Falaise gap which created a demand for more transport as the lines of communication lengthened. Again the control was excellent and we were escorted inland to a pre-determined location where we waited for the remainder to catch up. It was then we realised that a sub group of our company was missing. It took a day or two to find out what had happened. The troops on the ground had moved forward at incredible speed. Dieppe had surrendered and could be used as our main supply port. Whilst en route to the beaches to join us, the missing section received orders to change course to Dieppe. It was some time before revised plans could be made and conveyed to affected units. In the event I was given the task of finding the missing convoy and bringing them back. This was not so easy as it sounds. The situation was extremely fluid and the advancing troops did not stop to clear the areas they passed through where pockets of resistance still remained.
As troops moved forward, a support group established and marked out a main road route to be used by following units. These routes were declared safe. At intervals, reporting posts were created at which all movements were recorded. My job was thus facilitated although the areas between the report posts were badly damaged and lonely. My batman and I had rations for our trip and we set off. Our first post was at Amiens and the information given was well up to date. The convoy had passed through on a certain date at a recorded time and was instructed to go to the next post at a specified map reference. The long journey to the next report post was often delayed by obstructions and the first night saw us in the middle of nowhere. We had been told not to travel at night, as this could be dangerous so we had no option other than to stop. The only building in sight was a dilapidated farm house which my driver Heap approached in fear and trembling. He managed to make our needs known and we joined the farmer and his family at their evening meal from our army rations, which Heap had stored before leaving the coast. I was then escorted to my 鈥渂edroom鈥� in the attic shared with one of the sons, who was distinctly anti anything or anybody British, or that is what it seemed. He watched my every movement until I was in my valise There were others sharing our bedroom mostly with four or more feet and certainly not British. A quick if meagre, breakfast and thankfully, we were on our way again.
The next post took us across Belgium and it was dusk as we approached the Dutch frontier. The report post was in a deserted nunnery and was not yet fully established. The sergeant in charge gave us permission to bed down for the night and then told me that our missing convoy had reported in the previous day. The airborne attack on Arnhem bridge had failed and this meant that our missing unit could not get to their nominated destination. They were ordered to unload away from the 鈥渇ront鈥� and return to Dieppe. The sergeant then asked me by which route had I approached the nunnery. When I showed him on the map he told me that that particular stretch of road changed hands at dusk each night and would have been in German possession at the time of my arrival. He immediately made enquiries and later confirmed that the Germans had moved on the previous night. I was relieved that, fortuitously, I had arrived a day later.
I started my long haul back to Dieppe where all sections of the company had been told to regroup and this was to be our base for some time.

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