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15 October 2014
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Arnhem - Chapter 2

by Fred Moore

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Contributed byÌý
Fred Moore
People in story:Ìý
Fred Moore
Location of story:Ìý
Arnhem, Holland
Background to story:Ìý
Army
Article ID:Ìý
A6075092
Contributed on:Ìý
09 October 2005

Wednesday, September 20th
As dawn approached we dispersed amongst the houses and gardens waiting for the inevitable onslaught and listened in vain for some indication of the promised breakthrough by the British 2nd Army on the far side of the river. We sighted the only available Vickers machine gun on a low wall, at the rear of the houses on the left hand side, giving us an unobstructed view of the demolished railway bridge over the lower Rhine, about 1,000 yards to our left, then waited.
The attack, when it came, was heralded by the characteristic clunk of heavy armour. Round the bend came a tank, which, coming to a halt began to systematically demolish the buildings which we occupied. The supporting infantry were engaged by the defence force and they and the tank were driven off with casualties on both sides. In the meantime we had observed a group of Germans approaching across the open land from the direction of the bridge. We opened fire with the machine gun, supported by riflemen and the attack came to an abrupt halt. Twice more, in the course of the morning, the tank attacked, each time destroying more houses and denying us vital cover. The enemy infantry had now infiltrated our defences and posted snipers, unseen, in commanding positions. The area was devastated, houses were burning and we were forced to take refuge inside the few houses still intact. We barricaded the windows with whatever furniture was available and prepared to make a last stand. A load groan came from the front bedroom upstairs, followed by a heavy thud. It was the guy posted at the window, obviously the victim of a sniper. Jerry ordered me to take his place. I thought "Shit !!". Creeping upstairs I ran across the room to the wall by the window and tentatively pushed my rifle into position, careful not to expose myself, then I quickly moved behind the rifle with my hand on the trigger. To my immense relief this did not draw the expected rifle fire and at least I had a theoretical advantage.
From the other side of the road came a figure with a maroon beret. Halfway across he collapsed in the road, hit by enemy fire. He was followed by another Airborne soldier, who stopping to help, was hit himself and there were then two bodies lying in the road. I heard Jerry Curtis downstairs instruct everybody to stay in position, the front door opened and he was gone. Before he could reach the other two he was himself gunned down and died instantly. The house next door was on fire and death or captivity now seemed the only possible alternatives!
The light was fading and we still survived. It was decided that we should attempt to escape via the back door. I was instructed to mount the Vickers in a position to cover the break out. There was no choice but to set it up in the middle of the narrow lane which ran along the back of the houses, facing the rear of the intended route. In the house we had occupied I had found a cigar and this seemed an appropriate time to savour its fragrance.
The survivors were quickly assembled and we moved off. One member of our mixed group, composed of remnants of the 1st, 3rd and 11th Para Battalions and some South Staffs, was a Padre who, noting that I was still in possession of the machine gun, which seemed to grow heavier with every step, stopped to offer words of encouragement.
The noise of battle was evident, somewhere on our right flank, rifle fire, mortars and occasionally heavy artillery, but incredibly our progress was unimpeded. We reached the end of the track we were following, revealing a large expanse of grassy meadow. The leading elements of our group were part way across, completely exposed when a burst of machine gun fire from the woods on our right, cut them down. It was essentiall that we crossed this obstacle with the utmost speed, in order to join up with our main force at the far side. It was decided to cross individually, each man waiting until the guy in front was halfway across before commencing his run. Halfway across, running as fast as I could, hampered by the weight of the machine gun on my shoulder, and under fire, I stumbled and fell forward. The fellow behind me had fortunately commenced his run and I was able to get to my feet and reach the other side unharmed. We had now reached the outer defences of the designated defensive perimeter and I was ordered to surrender my machine gun in exchange for a rifle; not however, before discovering that no-one had thought to bring the ammunition !
We were directed to the church, a small square structure, where we assembled and were addressed by Major ‘Dicky’ Lonsdale of the 11th Battalion. He informed us that we were now under his command and designated the ‘Lonsdale Force’. We also learned that the 2nd Battalion at the bridge were still holding out, though seriously depleted, surrounded and isolated; also that the Guards Armoured Division had reached the Nijmegen area.
Thursday, September 21st
Dawn on Thursday morning found us occupying a position on open ground, to the north of the Arnhem-Oosterbeek Road. Dug in behind a slight rise we had a clear view of the road junction immediately in front of us. Before long we observed two self propelling guns approaching the junction, supported by infantry. We opened fire, together with forward units on our left flank, causing the enemy attack to halt and we were then engaged by the heavy guns firing across open sights. This attack was aborted and comparative peace reigned once more.
A new sound intruded on the sound of battle, the throb of approaching aircraft and then the sky was suddenly filled with Dakotas. They started dropping desperately needed supplies, but too far away from us. We stood up, waved our yellow triangles, our arms, anything to attract their attention, but all to no avail. We watched, in horror, as planes were hit, caught fire and spiralled downwards to destruction. Then they were gone.
Before long our position was being pounded with mortar shells, from dreaded Nebelwerfers, which were multiple barrelled. We withdrew to the tree lined ditch at the rear of our position to wait for the barrage to cease. I was one of a close group of three, with a 1st Battalion Sergeant in the middle. A salvo straddled our position, two live shells bursting, one to our front, the other to the rear and another landing between the Sergeant and the other guy, which unbelievably failed to detonate.
As night fell and the rain added to our discomfort, we moved to a position near a mortar group, with houses in the vicinity. The night passed with very little activity on the part of the enemy and we were able to snatch brief periods of sleep.
Friday, September 22nd
We knew now that the Germans had overrun the defences at the Arnhem bridge and could now concentrate all their available forces against us. The perimeter was now subject to intense mortar fire and snipers were inflicting heavy casualties. We remained in a defensive position during the morning, but with a lull in the intensity during the early afternoon, a small detachment of us were sent out on a scouting mission. We searched a group of houses and noted the total devastation around us, with bodies and debris from previous battles lying everywhere. There were still a number of Dutch civilians occupying buildings, mostly living in the cellars. Without warning we were subjected to a barrage of shellfire. A soldier near to me dropped and although he was dead, there was no sign of an injury, so we presumed that he had been killed by the blast. Having established that the area at that time was clear of enemy, we returned to our lines to report. The Germans seems to have a strange reluctance to fight during the hours of darkness, so as the light began to fade our hopes of surviving to another day and maybe rescue by the British Army, were rekindled.
Saturday, September 23rd
We, a small detachment, under the command of a Sergeant, were, before first light, instructed to relieve a similar group, who were defending a house on a road overlooking a T junction. The garden at the back of the house was separated from a similar house and garden by a hedge, which by now had been flattened. The other house was one of a cluster of houses, on a road running parallel to the road which we controlled. The force which we were relieving had been involved in a number of desperate enemy assaults by tanks, supported by infantry. Once we had taken up strategic positions in the various rooms of the house, the Sergeant instructed me to liaise with the forward Airborne units and then the group of pilots of the Glider Pilot Regiment, somewhere along the junction road facing the front of the house. Having accomplished this mission, I was then told to make our presence known to a group of South Staffs, located on our left flank, along the parallel road. I traversed the two gardens, noting with alarm the carnage and destruction, which signified the significance to both sides of the position we were holding. Emerging from the left side of the house, I found an Airborne soldier, the solitary occupant of the small front garden.
Vaulting over the low wire fence, I proceeded down the road, which was long and straight. A few yards further on was a stationary Tiger tank, obviously no longer serviceable. Stopping to look inside, I saw the driver slumped forward with his head shattered. I had gone about 200 yards, but no sign of defence forces, so I shouted, "Any South Staffs around?’ No reply ! Another 50 yards or so, then I heard the sound of digging on the opposite side of the road. Crossing the road I located the source of the sound behind a low brick wall at the front of a house. Jumping over the wall I said; "Are you the .....? ‘Shit,.........the enemy’ !!! I kicked his machine gun into his trench, jumped back over the wall and starting running back, not straight but zig-zagging. A hail of bullets escorted me down the road and reaching the wire fence, I literally dived over it. Running down the garden, I was passed by a figure; the guy from the other garden !
Describing my experience to the Sergeant, he instructed the two of us to return to the forward garden and watch for any movement from the German position, while he called for a salvo from our Light Artillery Battery to shell the position they occupied. We saw a German standing in the road shouting. He sounded very angry. Then a few minutes later shells started exploding around the area.
Returning to my original position, I took up a position in the roof, taking advantage of one of the numerous tile-less areas, behind a chimney, as cover, from where I had a vantage point, with a clear view in all directions.
The sound of caterpillar tracks approaching down the road, presaged a determined attack by a Tiger tank, supported by infantry. The troops dug in forward of our position opened fire, supported by limited covering fire from us. After a skirmish with casualties on both sides, the opposing force withdrew.
In the afternoon a line of Germans, presumably the unit I had found earlier, were observed approaching down the rear garden. We opened fire and they quickly withdrew, occupying the house in the rear. One of them had obviously been hit because we could hear him moaning.
As the light deteriorated, it was obvious that we could not leave them occupying their present position, yet we also could not abandon our post without notifying headquarters. The Sergeant left to report the situation and shortly after returned with an Officer. We were to storm the position and eliminate the threat to our rear. As instructed I left my rifle behind, replacing it with a hand gun. In the fading light, we moved in single file through the gardens adjacent to our position and having reached the rear of our objective, without detection, I was left in the rear to guard the closed back door, while the rest moved to the side of the house. When in position, the officer shouted, in German, a command to surrender. There was no reply or sign of movement, so I fired my revolver through the panels of the back door. This brought an immediate response and the occupants came out and surrendered with no sign of opposition. We started to march them down the garden, when the Officer turned to me and said, "Go back and make sure there are no enemy still in the house !". Not me again ! I thought, and reluctantly proceeded to obey his instruction. Moving through the various rooms, with the speed of light, I was happy to report that the house was now unoccupied.
We marched our captives to the enclosed tennis court, reserved specifically for enemy prisoners and proceeded to search them, prior to locking them away. I was about to search one of them when suddenly there was an explosion. I found myself on the floor and my immediate reaction was, "Is this it ? Am I about to die ?" There was no pain and I found that I was the only one hit and yet in three places, my hand, arm and leg. My luck had run out.
Bleeding profusely, I was taken to a temporary refuge in the cellar of a nearby house, where my wounds were bandaged with shell dressings. Later in the evening I was moved to the house of Mrs Kate ter Horst, a few yards removed from Oosterbeek church.

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