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My experience of war by Henry Grimsdale

I was 18 in 1944 and wanted to go into the Navy but D Day was in the offing so I had to go into the infantry with the Hampshire’s. I did training for six months and then was sent overseas and posted to the 7th armoured division.

We went to Ypres to begin with then joined the 3rd Monmouth’s. They wanted men for the Herefords and I volunteered and ended up in Holland doing training with the new comet tanks. In the Maas we were issued with snow suits and went on patrol wearing them. We were there over Christmas.

We were warned we were going in for the big push and were given pep talks about it. My sister in law was expecting a baby and I had bought a teddy bear to send her. I ended up carrying it around with me and was most embarrassed. In the end I managed to post it with difficulty. We were in slit trenches in Reichwald Forest. Communion was offered to me there for the first time. I thought — we’re really in for a big push — and we were.

We took Uden on the German Dutch border undergoing a lot of shooting and sniping from German troops in February 1945. I had never seen so many German dead. There were at least 40 or 50 of them. On 28th February I went back into the tanks going into a night push. I was on the third tank. We had just got into some woods on a country road when the Germans opened up and knocked the first tank out. We then had to get out of the tanks and go into the woods to find where the artillery fire was coming from and if there were any tank guns.

All of a sudden they opened up with machine guns and we had to get into a ditch. I was hit in the right buttock. We were stonked with shells and mortars. I could hobble and I thought I would walk back on the same road among the shells and mortars. I couldn’t have cared less what happened to me at this point. I came out of range eventually and fortunately a lone Canadian jeep appeared and put me on his stretcher and took me to advance first aid help. I was given morphine and awoke in a place crammed with wounded. I was taken to Nijmegen operated on there and then flown by Dakota to Bruges. I remember the people throwing flowers onto us.

The surgeon said — I can’t do anything with you — you’ll have to go back to England. I was flown back to London then put on a hospital train. The V2 bombs were still happening in the South of England so those being flown back were sent to the Midlands or the North so as to be out of range. My very bad flesh wounds were eventually operated on. Eventually I was able to go to a hospital near home escorted by a nurse and was sent to Boscombe hospital Bournemouth. I was there for two weeks then spent 3-4 weeks convalescing. As a convalescent we were dressed in a blue serge suit with a white shirt and a red tie. I didn’t have to buy a thing whenever I went out anywhere.

Eventually I was sent to Sunningdale to the Army convalescent depot ‘excused boots’ and was gradually absorbed back into the army infantry holding battalion looking after the troops entertainment. I was 19 years old when I was wounded.

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