大象传媒

I asked my father to write up his memory of D-Day while he was fighting in Burma. Here is his account of that day.

We were far from the Normandy beaches - we were in Burma well on our way to Rangoon with Bill Slim's largely forgotten fourteenth army. I'd completed a faily lengthy tour as a Hurricane pilot with 60 Squadron giving close support to the army. For my 'rest' period, I'd become a VCP officer (Visual Control Post) and ended up with 255 Indian Tank Brigade in its remarkable push down from Meiktila to Rangoon. Not much rest about it - and an unwelcome break from flying duties.
On 6th June 1944 the Brigade was safely 'harboured' taking a break before pressing on when the news of the Normandy landings began to come through on the tank radios. Our thoughts were certainly with our comrades back home - though thoughts of being 'back home' were a luxury which few of us allowed ourselves. Nevertheless, there was jubilation in part perhaps because we thought that the sooner it was over in Europe, the sooner we would be remembered !
But our revelries were suddenly interrupted by some Japanese gunners who had found our range. It was a light shelling, but one round found its target and a young tank crewman was grievously hit. From my funk hole between the tracks of a Sherman tank, I saw them rush him to the first aid post - they need not have rushed because it was painfully clear that here was one young soldier who had not been remembered in time.

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