大象传媒

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Norman Wigley of the 大象传媒 Radio Sheffield Action Desk on behalf of Mr George Martin, and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions.

This edited account is taken from the book 鈥淐assino to the River Po. Italy 1944-45. A personal account of life and action in a tank troop鈥� written and published by George Martin.

Other parts to this story can be found at:

Part 1: A7832441

Part 2: A7832702

Part 3: A7832964

Part 4: A7833152

Part 5: A7833549

Part 6: A7833710

Part 7: A7833837

Part 8: A7833972

Part 9: A7834043

The next day, 23rd April 1945, I took some men to investigate a nearby farm where I had seen movement and thought I could see hidden vehicles in a barn. We found the farmer who said the enemy had abandoned two vehicles and run off. There were no booby traps or mines and we were able to 鈥榣iberate鈥� a large box-like vehicle, which we found to be a beautifully fitted out mobile workshop; and a half-track equipped with rocket launcher. We took these back to 鈥楤鈥� Squadron HQ and absorbed them into our pool, but our delight was short lived as they were soon 鈥榖orrowed鈥� by RHQ. Later that day, we started to be approached by vehicles carrying white flags, and from then on, received a constant stream of prisoners.

There was no longer the constant noise of battle and I could not see the war in Italy lasting very much longer. Within the next week or so, we got the news that the war in Italy was over. It was the news we had been waiting for, half expected I suppose, and very welcome. I sat down, my back to a tree to enjoy the silence and contemplate now the chances of seeing home and family once again. My mind went back to Sandhurst days and the Guards Drill Sergeants, how, when the troop was being drilled on the parade ground, the Sergeant would suddenly halt the troop, and without prior warning, would call out an officer cadet. 鈥淪ir, I want you to drill the troop,鈥� Shrewdly he usually picked on some unfortunate cadet who was obviously day-dreaming. Brought back to reality by the sudden command, he would march smartly to the front of the troop and stand there tongue-tied for a few seconds.

A few in the troop would smile at the cadet鈥檚 discomfort, not so the Drill Sergeant. 鈥淪ir鈥� he barked in that never forgotten voice, 鈥渕arch that shower into the lake if you wish, don鈥檛 just stand there, DO SOMETHING, even if it鈥檚 wrong, but for heaven鈥檚 sake, Sir 鈥� Do Something.鈥� I had heard that so often and I pondered how many of my decisions had been wrong 鈥� but at least I had done something and not lost too many men or tanks gaining objectives. I rose and went to join my jubilant troop; a new era lay ahead. When the Regiment was disbanded in March 1946, I transferred to the RAEC, saw service in Verona and Trieste and finally returned home in May 1947. From that time until retirement, I taught woodwork at William Rhodes Secondary School in Chesterfield, Derbyshire. I enjoy photography and local history, in particular by recording and lecturing on the changes taking place in the town and district in which my wife and I made our home.

Pr-BR

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