大象传媒

Trying to steer my Sherman tank through the debris of Caen in the distance I could see a naked woman standing in the rubble. As I approached nearer I saw a window model that some joker had placed there. So this is war.

Entering the town of Lievin my tank was disabled by a mechanical fault with the right hand track. Ian Cohen , my comrade, was detailed to stay with me. " We will send a recovery vehicle back for you " said the sergeant as my unit and all the lads carried on. Days passed and no one returned. A French family, Mama Steffens and her six children took pity on us and offered us hospitality. How she found the space I will never know. More pleasant days passed and we were in no hurry to leave this luxury but we felt guilty about putting on our friends, especially the food as they had a struggle to manage. Ian said," Let's do something and get some rations ". How ? A plan. Borrow the doctors car from next door, he was allowed petrol. Ian had acquired an officers coat and beret from I don't know where, put them on and said lets drive to Arras.

Just before Arras we ran into a military police check point. Ian leaves the car and is immediately saluted by the police. We are in wartime France driving a civvy Citroen and impersonating an officer. Charges loom ! " What are you doing with a civvy car" was the question. Ian , who had the gift of the gab could say black was white, and you would believe him. " My jeep has broken down and I have commandered this vehicle. I have urgent business in Arras " . A salute and carry on from the MP. " Get going " says Ian. We drive round to the town major's office. Ian tells a tale of how we had been left without rations and suffered by the side of the road and gets a stamp chitty for provisions for two. He comes back to the car and puts a nought by the 2 making 20. Round to the RASC resupply depot, and we cram provisions for 20 personnel into the car. We have a job to shut the doors, I say "How are we going to get through the MPs again". " Stop about a mile before" Ian tells me. So I do. " Wait for a convoy to come through and when you get the chance nip between two vehicles and stick the bonnet under the tail board". I see my chance - talk about modern tailgating! The DRs (despatch riders) are waving through the 3-tonners as fast as possible, we are out and gone before anyone can stop us.

Needless to say, my French friends and the doctor's family, were over the moon. We felt we had repaid so much that they had given to us.

Now we were concerned about getting back to ou unit. A few weeks had gone by - AWOL is no good, especialy in wartime! We said our goodbyes and started hitch-hiking with RASC supply convoys, After some time, we did manage to find our unit and were greeted by the sergeant! " Where the * have you pair been? Orderly Officer in the morning." In the morning once again being told the sob-story of untold suffering, a few seconds of thought, and then the officer said "Dismiss and carry-on." We'd got away with it, salute and go. My regret is that I have, over the years, lost touch with my French friends and Ian. If you are out there, please get in touch.

After the war we were issued with new Comet tanks- what a difference to the outdated Shermans. Easier to handle. We now moved from place to place on tank tranporter. One journey and someone said "What are those big black marks following us down the road?" Tyres flat, and rubber melting. Transporters have umpteen twin wheels on the rear trailer to take the weight. Our driver stops and instantly the rear is a mass of burning, flaming tyres. Quick, without thinking, we undid the shackles and the Comet was free. I squeeze into the side driving opening, Rolls Royce Merlin engine roars, reverse gear and drive back through the smoke and flames - just in time, the tank is saved. I drive the rest of the way with my mate in the turret calling out directions on my headset. I quite enjoyed it, Once again, all the thanks we got for the sergeant was "Where the * have you been?"
W A J

To read about how my mother wrote to the Queen after the war to ask when I'd be coming home, read 'My Mother's Love' (A2755541).

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