大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Sarah Harding of Kirklees Libraries on behalf of Mr. Smithson and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

THE ARNHEM OPERATION
MONDAY THE 18th SEPTEMBER 1944

This was the date for me, as we were on the second lift, the first lift being on Sunday. As there were to be three days of the "op", we talked a lot about the advantages or otherwise of being on one or other of the lifts. Not that it mattered, "Orders is orders" and we did as ordered. We though that each day would be slightly easier but as it turned out there was nothing in it and all were equally bad. On thinking back I realise that I was lucky but did not think so at the time. However I must get on with the writing. I had not much time for introspection.

We loaded the glider we were to fly during the morning. Our load was a 6 pounder anti-tank gun, its jeep and three Airborne Gunners, one of them a lieutenant corporal. We had a chat about the "op" along with what to do in case of any emergencies. I do not remember how many combinations [Tug and Glider] there were setting off from Fairford but the perimeter track appeared full of Stirlings. We were to use the Horsas lining up alongside the main runway. After lunch the first combination was away and every two minutes another one took off. The ground staff had had plenty of practice by now and no hitches occurred. Soon our tractor pulled us on to the runway and in position behind our tug. The towrope was fixed to the plug under the rear gunner's turret and then the two arms of the yoke were fixed under our wings. They released properly when we pulled the release knob. Then we were away and in a few hundred yards were airborne. Having something to do had settled us down and the calmness of flying was beautiful. The view from the cockpit of the Horsa is brilliant as the Perspex is all around and goes down to our feet, making map reading very easy. This was an aspect of flying that I always enjoyed. We made the usual circuit to give time for all the planes to get airborne and we were heading almost due east parallel to the Thames. We crossed the coast north of Canvey Island. A change of direction and we headed for Holland. The flight was easy and I flew across almost the whole of the North Sea.

We could see the coast of Holland and Spinner took over. I relaxed a little, but not for long. Just short of the coast I heard the rear gunner of the Stirling calling to his pilot telling him to climb and go right, fast, as a Dakota was moving in towards us. I immediately looked to my left and there, about forty yards away and sliding towards us was a Dakota pulling a Waco. At the same time I shouted to Spinner to go right and up. We had no time to think and by now the wing of the Dakota was almost passing over our tow rope but as we were going right and up, so the rope went around the wing of the Dakota and that was the last we saw of the Americans. We had no time for fear. In going up we had climbed as well as the Stirling and now were lifting its tail and this caused the nose of the Stirling to go down. At 160 mph and heading for the ground, which was a mere 1000 feet below the pilot pulled back on his stick to stop the dive. The towrope was not strong enough to have the Stirling doing down and the glider going up. [We had not had time to change our path from up to down as everything happened so quickly.] It snapped and we were now flying free. At once the noise quietened and the sound became a peaceful sizzle.

We had to decide what to do. We were still just over the sea and knew that Air-Sea-Rescue launches were underneath our flight path and our first reaction was to turn and head back to where they might be. So I went into the back and told the gunners to prepare to ditch, inflate their life jackets and cut a hole in the roof with the axe I had taken from its fastening. I then returned to the cockpit and got ready to help Spinner. We were still close to the island and I thought the idea of a wet landing a bad idea. The glider could only stay above the water for an hour even if the touch down was perfect and we had no idea how near or far away the launches would be. Spinner thought the same and therefore turned back towards the land. Now I had a problem - which way was the wind blowing? I looked around to see if I could see any smoke but I could only see one building in the distance and no sign of smoke. I even looked to see if I could see any seagulls as I know that birds always alight into wind. No joy! By this time we were only 300 feet up. No time to think now. The touch down was perfect. I have said that Spinner was a good pilot and he proved it here.

I told the gunners to take their kit and put it some distance away from the glider and then to destroy their gun. They knew how to do this and started at once. I then looked about me and saw that we had become the centre of attention for some Dutchmen who must have been working in the nearby fields. We had an audience! Spinner had started to get our kit out of the glider so I went across to the Dutchmen and asked if anyone spoke English or French. A young man said that he spoke a little French. My French was poor but with signs and what language we had in common I understood that the Germans had seen us come down and were already on the way to us. It appeared that a local farmer had phoned them. The name Quisling was used. The young man told me that the Germans would come from the general direction of the farm we had seen as we were coming down. Some of the Dutchmen seemed to expect us to start fighting the German Army on our own, but during this time Spinner had been pouring petrol on and about the glider so when I got back, he set it on fire. As there was a lot of ammunition and more petrol in it, it soon started to explode, with bullets flying all over the place. The audience melted away. We headed away from where we expected the Germans to come and towards a high banking, which was on two sides of the field. We climbed the banking and saw what I realise now we should have expected, the sea and a short stretch of beach. The banking was, of course, a dyke. We got together on the beach and rested and tried to decide what to do. I was the only one with any experience of action. Spinner had been on "D" day [3 days] and the gunners had seen no action at all, so it seemed as if it was up to me. Not that there was much we could do, on an island, on the edge of the sea and far outnumbered by a fast approaching enemy. I thought the best we could do was to try and keep out of sight, wait until dark and then see if we could move to a better hiding place and even find a boat.

We had no sooner discussed this when two young Dutchmen walked along the beach clearly looking for us. I went to them and using Spinner's escape map they pointed to the island of Schouen [this is why, for fifty years I thought we landed there]. They then told me more about the direction that the Germans were coming from. On being asked about boats and about hiding, they just shrugged and left us. We had little chance.

Looking about us, we saw a dip between two dykes where there seemed to be more cover. I posted one of the gunners to look over the left-hand dyke and the other gunner to cover the right, a more open area. Spinner the lieutenant corporal and I then had a talk about the possibilities open to us. Not very many! Movement was very restricted and no possibility of any hiding places in this area where we found ourselves. From the two Dutch chaps, any direct help could not be expected and boats - an impossibility. They had also pointed out another direction from which the Germans were coming. Things looked bleak! Just then the gunner on the left dyke came scrambling down and excitedly signalled me to come to the top but at the same time to keep my head down. Poking my head over the dyke edge, I saw the reason for his excitement. There, not 25 yards away, was a German soldier looking out to sea. Obviously he was trying to impress his Officer with his efficiency because he had his hand above his eyes and was constantly looking to right and left, out to sea. He never saw us. We slid down the slope as fast as we could and silently signalled the others to move away fast. We had no need to bother as there, half right and on top of the third dyke was a section of infantry looking at us, with one soldier prone on the ground and behind a machine gun which was pointing straight at us, at a distance of about 50 yards. The moment of truth!

I asked if anyone had a white handkerchief.

The Officer standing beside the machine gunner came over and we were now Prisoners of War!

THUS ENDED MY ACTIVE SERVICE CAREER AND A NEW PHASE BEGINS THAT OF BEING A PRISONER OF WAR

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