大象传媒

Hope you found the previous two uploads containing Chapters 1 and 2, and Chapters 3, 4 and 5.

CHAPTER 6
As the progress north continued, one river after another, so I was put in readiness for another move forward with the box. We had no transport and, in addition to our gear, I was allowed a case of corned beef, a few tins of pilchards and some bars of a very hard soap. By seeking remote farmhouses, still occupied, we were found a shed or stable and traded a tin of beef for a roast chicken and soap in exchange for laundry. All the while we maintained contact 鈥� usually.

1944 progressed 鈥� the summer came with masses of grapes. We existed on tea, water from the farm wells and the occasional glass of rough red wine, if the farmer was so inclined. They were all cheerful friendly folk and I really liked the Italians.

Elsewhere on the Western coast of Italy, landings from sea cut off the defending Germans. There was rapid movement and we switched to the west and entered Rome 鈥� an open city - to a great welcome from the Italians. The very next day the Allies landed in Normandy, so Italy became something of a forgotten area, particularly as many formations were removed to back up in Normandy and assemble for a landing on the South of France. The resources of 10th division were stretched and we were joined by the Polish corps. They were taken by the Russians and sent down through the Caucasus Mountains to the Middle East where training took place.

From his parents in London I learned that an office fried, Eric Mayne, captured in Tobruk had died in a prisoner of war camp. This camp, now in British hands, was not too far away from where I was camped, so with some friends took a jeep down the Adriatic coastal road from Rimini, beyond Pescara and turned inland. The small British plot, with identifying crosses was in a corner of an elaborate Italian cemetery. We tidied the place up 鈥� put urns and flowers in place before taking photos with a borrowed camera. (Unfortunately the undeveloped film was lost in transit so I had the uncomfortable time of visiting Eric鈥檚 parents when I reached England).

I made an interesting and brief visit to Florence before we were back in the mountains. Winter came on 鈥� cold and wet with little shelter 鈥� in or under our trucks. Something of a concerted push took our unit to the edge of a fair sized town Faenza, which had a large central square with flower beds (no flowers though). With Christmas approaching activity slackened and the Germans were still on one side of the square and we on the other.

So 1945 was upon us, with little activity. Being in Signals, I had access to information about other units and saw the City of London Sharpshooters were now nearby. An old friend Les Cooper from Stony Stratford was serving with them and he was very surprised when I took a jeep to see him. He had come to Italy via Algeria, was considerably older than I. My hopes of an early return to England were conveyed to him.

I was very grateful to Mr and Mrs Niddrie for their kindness. I sent money to cover the costs of food parcels, the watches and also a wedding ring. As a final gesture I sent Mrs Niddrie 拢10 which she used to buy herself a pearl pendant.

The days drifted by and then we 鈥� those who had been away since 1940 鈥� were assembled, put on a freight train going south and in due course reached Naples, to await a ship. This took about a month, so I had time to visit the volcano Vesuvius and Pompeii. Naples had been damaged by Allied bombing 鈥� but this was mostly confined to the port area. Italy had been a collection of separate states before Garibaldi united them into one country. Naples had its own king and many elegant buildings. The old royal palace had been taken over by NAAFI 鈥� the services recreational centre. Whenever the opportunity permitted and the programme changed, we would visit the San Carlo opera house 鈥� a magnificent building and some superb opera performances. All the while we lived in a transit camp up in the hills beyond Naples, just waiting for that boat!

Into February and then joy! We embarked for England 鈥� a brief wait in Gibraltar and then the Bay of Biscay and Liverpool. Instead of going to London by train, as we had hoped, we found ourselves under the grandstand at Thirsk racecourse in North Yorkshire. Having been away nearly five years, I suppose the odd day didn鈥檛 matter and I reached Derby towards the end of February to find Marjory had provisionally arranged our wedding in Allestree church on 3rd March 1945.
As a postscript to this happy occasion, I can explain that my parents came up from Reigate and were fixed in the Keddleston Arms, a large modern pub at the junction of Allestree Lane and the trolley bus terminus from Derby.

I had hoped for the support of Bill Hughes, but his fianc茅e had other ideas and they were married in London on the same day. However, Willie Law in Ayrshire was available and arrived on time. Simultaneously Les Cooper, who had arrived from Italy on 28 days leave, also rallied around and his experience as Churchwarden was invaluable. A friend from my City workplace, Dorothy Germain, also attended our wedding. She was married to a Frenchman who, unfortunately, had been taken prisoner in France and was now working on a Polish farm. Marjory鈥檚 mother attended with her sister, niece, brother-in-law and a fostered daughter and brother.

The church at Allestree was decorated and the organist and choir present (fortunately explained the vicar 鈥榯hey are playing at home today鈥�). All were assembled in the church awaiting the bride and when the car did arrive, the verger gave the signal to the organist who launched into 鈥楬ere comes the bride鈥� only to be greeted by the arrival of my Uncle Arthur in full naval uniform!

A reception was organised at the Keddleston Arms and this was assisted by the supply of whisky and gin which I had carried and which otherwise was quite unobtainable. Marjory and I left early in the proceedings by train to London. On our trip to Derby station we were in the company of an army friend Ken Howkins and his wife who came over from Burton-on-Trent.

Despite the delays, uncertainties and other problems, I can honestly say towards the end of 2000 that it was worth waiting for.

But the Army had not finished with me 鈥� given 28 days 鈥榙isembarkation leave鈥� my first real time off, I was then due 14 days embarkation leave prior to going to Germany. I felt I had been away long enough 鈥� let someone else have a go. The alternative was to be an instructor at the Training depot 鈥� Catterick Camp in North Yorkshire. Reluctantly I took this option, went on leave and awaited my travel papers. Surprise, surprise 鈥� instead of Catterick, I was due to go to the Grand Hotel, Scarborough, where a Signals training unit was forming. My first task was to take charge of twenty-eight 20 year old conscripts who had had six weeks basic training at a light infantry depot. It took some time to slow them down from the light infantry rapid pace to the more normal marching rate at which Signals moved. We got on fine and were soon objects of interest in St. Nicholas Square fronting the Grand Hotel. After a few weeks, the senior NCO 鈥� a huge RSM 鈥� sent for me 鈥淚鈥檝e been watching you and reckon you are ready for something different鈥�. Go to Scarborough railway station and collect 30 men no longer wanted by the RAF 鈥� put their kit in a truck you will find waiting and march them back to the Grand Hotel but take them a long way around for half an hour or so. I did as instructed and found these 30 individuals to be Sergeants and Flight Sergeants 鈥� ex aircrew grounded for LMF (lack of moral fibre). They were a truculent lot and did not take kindly to events, but by the end of the march to Grand Hotel, including some steep hills, were somewhat exhausted. Under the eagle eye of the RSM, I explained that they had a choice 鈥� do it the way the Army wanted or be awkward and face the consequences. A few decided to be uncooperative and were taken off elsewhere, whilst the bulk of the group accepted discipline and were soon an added attraction to the crowds of civilians who lined the footpaths around St. Nicholas Square.

After a week I was relieved and again sent to the station to collect a bunch of Royal Navy signallers who were surplus to RN needs. Naturally the Navy transferred their troublemakers 鈥� all trained men who felt unfairly treated. I explained there was little I could do 鈥� they must adapt. Marching up and down in unaccustomed Army boots after soft shoes helped solve my problem and I then instituted extra evening parades in the square with army webbing and backpacks. Periods of normal marching interspersed with 鈥榙ouble marching鈥� began to bring the squad into order, I鈥檓 glad to say. Next I found myself testing newly trained signals and life subsided somewhat 鈥� I managed to find a bedroom to myself with bathroom adjoining and relaxed a little.

On one occasion I found I was due to be on church parade at 10.00 on a Sunday morning with A company. All other companies were to assemble at 10.45 鈥� so there I was, the only NCO and eighty plus men and time to kill. I took the parade and marched them off a few hundred yards into a quiet road, halted and dismissed them, telling them where the church was if they wanted it. Monday morning the RSM wanted me 鈥� why, he asked, did I dismiss the company within view of the Colonel who was getting dressed. No comment! Then he said 鈥測ou are in luck鈥�. Orders arrived today 鈥� you have been given a MID (mention in despatches) 鈥� my second 鈥� award for past activities so we shall call it quits.

Marjory and I needed somewhere to live when I left the Army and after much searching and with the help of a friendly estate agent bought our first home in Purley. Our idea was to beat the rush for homes, but most people seemed to think us mad. However, we persisted, spent much of our savings and hoped for the best.

VE Day came and hotel owners in Scarborough wanted possession of their property. Autumn came and with it a move to Barnard Castle, Co. Durham. I managed a few weekend visits to Purley and to my parents in Reigate before we moved into our house. Winter at Barnard Castle was grim 鈥� 4 or 5 miles from town but only a mile and a bit to a wayside halt and train to Darlington and London. The opportunity arose for me to take early release from the Army 鈥� it cost me six weeks pay but I was glad to present myself to the barracks in York and collect my demob suit and clothes!

Well that was Jacks story ... in his own words. May he and his family rest in peace.

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