´óÏó´«Ã½

This story was submitted to the People's War site by Marcus Heald (´óÏó´«Ã½ Guide) on behalf of Bob Mann's Family and has been added to the site with His daughters permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

A Haunting Experience

When war broke out I was in the TA, so was called up almost immediately . . . the 1st September 1939. I had a week at Walton Street and then sent to a place called Coxhoe in County Durham for training. We Were billeted in an old house which had once been the home of Elizabeth Barrett-Browning, the poet. It was beautiful, surrounded by woods, and had the reputation of being haunted. We spent a lot of time in these woods, on training exercises and noticed that pieces of rotting wood and bark glowed in the dark. Back at the house we had our gasmasks hung up on the wall of our sleeping quarters. They were in small square boxes. Someone has the bright idea of putting pieces of this florescent wood on top of the boxes.
It was lights out time and we’d all settled down for the night. Suddenly there was a scream of terror and a lad called Pattison lept out of bed and jumped right on top of me. He could see the eerie glow of the wood and was convinced he had seen a ghost! Well, he scared the living daylights out of me!

Written 12th February 1993

Surprise, Surprise!

So many Incidents happened during my time in Sicily that it’s hard to remember them all in sequence. Here are a few memories that have stayed with me. They’re like snapshots from the past I suppose.

We were subject to German air raids all the time we were unloading the supply ships on the beaches of Avola and Augusta. I particularly remember the Beach Master at Avola, a naval officer and a very brave man. He sat on the sea wall directing operations, telling the boats when to come in . . . controlling the traffic! He’d shout ‘keep your heads down lads, they’re coming again!’ as the German planes flew over. He was Killed in a hail of Machine gun bullets.

Another ‘Snap-shot’ memory. . . The Americans dropped some of our paratroopers, but they were too far out to sea so they were all killed. You could see the bodies floating on the water. The Germans bombed one of our hospital ships and again we saw the bodies floating in the sea, this time with splinted legs sticking up in the air.

A different memory this time, an amusing one from Augusta. West Africans were helping us to load the lorries. They were just like children and made a game of it. . . who could get their lorry loaded the fastest! When there was an air raid though, they would dive under the truck for cover. I has to kick them all out before I could drive away!

The final part of my time in Sicily was spent ferrying ammunition across the straits of Messina to Reggio Calabri in Italy. Among my memories of this time was a particularly harrowing one. A woman brought her son to me. He’d been playing with a grenade he’d found which had exploded and lodged a piece of shrapnel in his leg. I couldn’t do anything, I was an ambulance driver, not a medic, but I took the boy to our doctors. They refused to help him - I don’t know why. It was so hard to leave him without doing anything for him. His Mother was heartbroken.

Written 27th August 1993

D — Day

I seem to Remember being camped in fields by the roadside but not for the last few days before the landing when we were sent to a camp just outside Southampton. It lashed down with rain and I was never so miserable in my life. Some of the troops going across were already in boats but were stuck in the channel, it was so rough. Because of the bad weather, the landing was postponed from the 5th June to the 6th June and we followed across on D+10 . . . or ten days later in other words. We met with opposition from snipers, but none of us was hit.
There was so much traffic on the other side, so we had to camp in a field for a few days. Later we got the chance of three days ‘battle rest’ at a little village on the coast. George Formby came out to entertain us while we were there. Mind you, I very nearly didn’t get there! Near where we camped where thousands of gallons of petrol stored in jerry cans. One day me and some pals were sitting on these cans, having a smoke. . . not thinking what we were doing. Anyway, an officer came by and saw us. We nearly got put inside. . . never mind. Three days battle rest!

Shortly after we came back, we started advancing. We were doing our job of keeping the troops supplied. The roads were very bad, in fact they were fields which had been bulldozed for us. One of our Corporals, a real nice chap, was riding his motorbike with his Sten-gun slung round his shoulders. He hit a bump and as he came off his gun whirled round and somehow pushed up his tin hat from behind. As he fell off the impact fractured his skull — a real tragedy.

After the breakthrough, our job was to run supplies through to Holland — Petrol up to Eindhoven, for example. I somehow aquired a big box of candles and asked a few civilians, ‘would you like to buy some candles?’ In no time a queue had formed from behind my lorry. I was scared, I can tell you, if an officer had come along, I would have been in big trouble. I got away with it you will be pleased to hear!

It was Belgium next, a place called Eynam near Fort Leopard. A chap in the village owned a little saw mill which was at the back of his house. He and his son used to make furniture to sell in their shop in the nearby town of Mol. There were three daughters in the family and all of them loved dancing. Their mother would only let them go If I’d escort them. I used to tease them and pretend I didn’t want to go. But they knew I loved dancing as much as they did. As well as the dance hall in the village there was a café and behind that a cinema in a big shed. Mother would let the girls go to the pictures — but only if I took them!

It was bitterly cold that winter of 44/45. We were engaged in making a ‘corduroy’ road. Split tree trunks were laid on the earth side by side to make a firing range to be used by the artillery. About this time I’d been asked to join a boxing team so I thought I’d get fit by practising weight lifting with those tree trunks. I managed to rupture myself didn’t I! I had to see the M.O. but he said he couldn’t do anything; I’d have to wait and see how it developed. I forgot about it after that until it was nearly time for me to be discharged from the army.

I used the rest of that cold winter to collect as much wood as I could for fire wood. The saw mill owner sawed it up and we shared it. It was too cold, it seemed as if everything had come to a standstill — frozen solid.

Written 8th October 1993

The last days

The war ended whilst I was in Germany. I was On Guard when the news of the unconditional surrender came through. I let off the full magazine of my Sten gun into the air to celebrate!

I was in group 27 for demob, which meant I would be out fairly quickly as I’d been in the army right from the beginning of the war. I was moved to a little village and confined to camp as I was told I’d be going back to England very soon.
In England I was drafted to another company and eventually was demobbed from Folkestone.

Written 3rd December 1993

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.