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As an occupational force, we were not allowed to fraternise with the Germans after the war. Civilians were very wary of us because of our appearance — we wore black tank suits and berets — very much like the SS who were feared. Hitler Youth caused us a lot of problems — creating craters in the roads. We made them fill them in.

After the war we used coffee, cocoa and cigarettes to barter with the Germans for cameras, watches etc. I bought a Great Dane puppy for 2,500 cigarettes whilst on peace-keeping duties.

About this time I was also put in charge of the petrol station in Wuppertal (a very powerful position!!), doling out petrol to army personnel. I had a Porsche car which had silver vases fixed on the sides for flowers. A good time was had by all. Then I went on leave, and when I returned the petrol job had been given to someone else. I was very sorry to lose that job and the car!

I was told after the war that I had a very blase attitude, appearing not to have a care in the world. It wasn’t a front — it was just my nature. Some years after the war I suffered severe bouts of depression and I often wonder if that was a belated response to the tensions of my experiences during the war. I was kept on recce duties for longer than was normal and at the end of the war the captain of my squadron apologised for keeping me on such a stressful job for so long.

I visited Brussels twice, once during combat, once after. The first time I spent drinking and going to night clubs where you picked up girls — the girls, they were prostitutes really, actually flaunted themselves in clubs and brothels. Brothels were legal and prostitutes weren’t cheap. Soldiers visited brothels as a matter of course - we were only young and for some the anticipation was more than they could manage! Some used protection, others didn’t. I did as I had seen films of what it was like if you caught VD. It was also a serious crime to catch VD in the army — you got your pay deducted. I would say I was a jack-the-lad — always first in the queue.

When we were in France, during combat, we pulled back one night and heard about two girls who were ‘on the game’. I went with a mate to this house where they were - and joined a queue!. Our troop captain, Jackson, found out and had us up before the troop as an example of how not to behave!

I marvelled at the Bon Marche, a large store in Brussels — it seemed to sell everything and was flourishing.

The second time I visited Brussels was after the war finished. I was with my wife Audrey and we spent the time sightseeing — a much more sober affair!

I visited Antwerp and saw ‘Apache dancing’ — a very athletic form of dancing where the girls were thrown all over the place. I also visited Hamburg which was absolutely flattened.

I don’t remember coming into contact with any non-combat units at any time — we were too near the front and they kept well back. The only rivalry (probably envy really) was with the Yanks because they had everything — silk stockings, chocolate, more money.... I thought the Yanks were mad — they’d swagger down the road calling out: ‘Come out you Krauts’. You could sell them a Luger — they’d give anything for a Luger. They had very smart uniforms but they weren’t very practical — not very warm in winter. They liked our battle dress.

There was some rivalry between us and the RAF. They were known as the ‘Brylcream Boys’. We felt they had the life of Riley compared to the Infantry. They did a bombing mission and then went back to base to a life of comfort compared to the infantry who went back to a trench.

I don’t remember changing the way we operated at any stage, apart from that. We just carried on as usual.

Nobody liked the SS, Hitler’s elite troops because of the atrocities they were supposed to have committed. The SS were part of Hitler’s strategy to have a superior race. We were always wary of them because the SS divisions were responsible for the persecution of the Jews in Poland. The SS were fanatical and we were really fearful of the Panzer division.

The Wehrmacht were like the ordinary British ‘Tommy’ so you didn’t feel any particular hatred for them. In fact, whilst I was based at Wuppertal after the war, I was on guard duty at the prison where Von Rundstedt, the German Army Commander was being held. He was a terrific soldier — looked the part, a real soldier’s bearing. I thought he was a brilliant general, the way he conducted the war. I had a lot of respect for him. We in Britain had a lot of old fashioned ideas especially at the beginning of the war. We didn’t know anything about Blitzkreig and had to modernise our ideas as the war progressed.

In France the resistance movement was mainly communist controlled. Once we captured a town occupied by Germans these resistance workers came out of hiding. They shaved the heads of French girls who had gone out with Germans as they were seen as collaborators.

I personally never had any dealings with the Resistance, but those higher up obviously did and used them to gain information.

I remember one time when we on a recce, we asked a group of French nuns if they’d seen any Germans on the road they were walking along. They said no, but when we got there, the Germans were waiting for us. So I’d never trust a nun!

In our troop, our officer strictly enforced the ‘non-fraternisation’ rule. But we found ways round it — what the eye doesn’t see....! So the experiences I’ve mentioned earlier were not endorsed, or even known (mostly!) about by the officers. You’d have been for the high-jump if they’d found out.

Recce had a reputation for being disciplined, one of the few units not to indulge in widespread looting. I’d have to agree with this: there was no looting because there was no time for looting. The job of a recce unit was to ‘seek, find, observe and report back’ so the practicalities of the job didn’t allow time for looting. If there had been time, we would have seen it as a ‘perk of the job’. The infantry obviously did have more time than us.

It has also been said that 43rd Recce was not involved with any mistreatment of German prisoners. To my knowledge, this again is true: as already stated, our job was to seek, find, observe and report back - not to take prisoners. Occasionally we picked up prisoners but I never recall any prisoners being treated badly. Shouted at, but not physically hurt. We didn’t have any particularly vengeful feelings towards the Wehrmacht as we saw them as like us.

Seeing the concentration camps for the first time was a terrible shock. I couldn’t believe that people could treat human beings like that. The guards at these camps were the dregs of Germans. I felt sorry for the state of the inmates — I couldn’t really take it in, seeing all the bodies and the people like skeletons. As a recce unit, again all we could do was continue to advance leaving the infantry to deal with the situation.

My attitude to the German people didn’t change — I just carried on doing my job. Perhaps it’s more difficult to associate yourself with foreign people — if the concentration camp inmates had been English prisoners of war being treated like that, or if I’d actually had to go in there and deal with the situation, maybe I’d have felt differently, more vengeful.

There was no drinking of alcohol when you were on a recce apart from the usual rum ration — which was in fact only available when the weather was cold. I was detailed to collect the rum rations from HQ so I developed quite a liking for it! During action, we rarely drank apart from that — again there was no time — except when we were in France and we had all that Calvados.

When the war ended, there was much more drinking. Some soldiers got hold of illegally distilled Schnapps from the Germans. It was lethal - rumoured to make you go blind. We were warned against drinking it and we didn’t in our troop, though I know some infantrymen did.

My memories of VE Day were that it was just like any other day for us. It was ‘spit and polish’! On VE day we were in civvy billets patrolling near Celle, maintaining a curfew. If we saw anyone out after curfew we took them back to base. VE day was a routine day for us. It was different for others as they were waiting to be told they could go home, but as a regular I had to complete my 7 years which would be in 1947. We heard the celebrations in London on the radio — I remember feeling envious because all we were doing was patrolling.

I felt glad it was over, but there were rumours of a ‘werewolf movement’, an underground German movement which we were apprehensive about, and we were still resented by some people. The ordinary Germans weren’t cowed by defeat and I remember seeing a torch-lit parade in Wuppertal with Germans singing and marching. It was an impressive sight.

After Germany surrendered I don’t remember any problems maintaining discipline among the men, despite the number of swaddies waiting to be de-mobbed. The 43rd was disbanded and we were transferred to the 14/20 Kings Hussars which had returned from India. This was a tank regiment attached to the Ghurka division. We were stationed at Wuppertal and I think I used my position as a tank driver effectively — everything got out of the way. I enjoyed that. I took some delight in knocking German trams off their lines — a touch of the tiller bar did the trick.

Soldiers did get drunk — they’d order a bucket of beer at the bars in Wuppertal, but they never got out of hand.

You could stay on the fairground all night for a cigarette. Germans would follow you for a cigarette end. I used to drop mine down the drain — my small way of taking revenge. I also had a suit made for 10 cigarettes — it took about a week to make.

I had a fatalistic attitude — I suppose we felt that we had a right to have some fun whenever there was a chance to because you didn’t know if you’d be alive the next day. My fiance had packed me a writing pad and when I found it after I’d arrived in France I remember thinking that I didn’t think I’d be alive for long enough to fill it up.

The only time my attitude changed and I really believed I was destined to survive was after an incident that happened about a month before the end of the war. We were on a recce and pulled up in a lane. A group of us disembarked and did a foot patrol to see if the Germans were in a nearby farmhouse. Half way across the field, the Germans opened fire on us. We fell to the ground as bullets whizzed over head. I tried to return fire with my Bren but it jammed! Typical. We retreated crawling backwards to the lane where the rest of the patrol was waiting. Walking back up the lane, I reached my car and the gunner informed me that he’d tried to open fire on me as I approached thinking I was a German - and the gun had jammed. A close shave and one that made me re-think my ideas about my destiny.

I feel quite cynical about what’s happened to our ex-servicemen since the war. I believe that it is totally wrong that they should be dependent on charities like the Poppy Day appeal. Leaving wreaths in memory of those who have died is sentimental and does nothing for the men who survived. They’re not valued as they should be. The countries that lost the war provide more for their ex-servicemen than our government has done.

I believe soldiers gave their lives so that people could have their freedom today. I think that parades — at the cenotaph etc. - are hypocritical. I’ve never had any time for them. People who fought in the war can sit at home and remember their fallen mates etc. quietly and in private without the hullaballoo and all the superficiality organised by ‘nobs’ who’ve never fired a gun in their lives.

I think that soldiers are used as tools — bureaucrats who have no experience of war make decisions and gamble with other people’s lives. After they’ve gambled, those remaining are forgotten and some have to depend on charity to survive. I think that young people today looking back at what’s happened to ex-servicemen wouldn’t come out and fight for their country.

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