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At the end of the course we were asked again for volunteers, this time to go to the Middle East and every man stepped forward. We were sent to the Royal Artillery Garrison at Woolwich, where immediately one of the married men was taken out, given a pith helmet and lots of kit and sent home on 14 days embarkation leave. The rest of us were left to do the best we could in the depot. Which soon became overcrowded as the troops arrived from Dunkirk.

Then the Luftwaffe started raiding London and at the height of the bombing in August it was no joke to be on outlying piquet duty having to run with our Bren guns a mile or so, many times a day. Eventually it was decided we should all be sent back to our units where we could be of some use and so I arrived back in the Sheffield area in time to take part in the air defences. The blitzes on the city created terrible damage and this was as bad as London was during the air raids. I had seen the intensity of the fire bombing of the dock area but to walk through the Wicker area of Sheffield as one or two of us did on our way to and from a four hour leave, was quite devastating. In those days there were lots of tram cars in use for public transport and many of these were blown completely in two, the top deck being blown quite far away from the lower deck and generally the devastation was quite severe. One's thoughts at the time were 'how could we get our own back?' because we didn't seem to be shooting all that many down to tell the truth, although we fired an awful lot of rounds. Must have frightened them quite a bit though.

It was at about this time that the Regiment was split up changing from the TA format of four batteries in a Regiment to three as in the Regular Army. The Regiment received orders to go off to India and so the three senior batteries went off as 67th HAA Regt. and we, being the junior battery were left in England where we became a mobile unit, fully independent and complete with 3.7 AA guns. We proceeded to go round the country, generally following where the German bombers had been, but we did get involved with a defence of areas like Derby, Birmingham and Coventry before getting a much wider role.

One drawback to our role as an independent battery was the lack of promotion but this was soon put right when we joined 165 HAA Regt. being sent to Shoreham near Brighton where a lone Focke Wulf 190 had tried to bomb the local gasometer. We deployed on the hillside just above the town but I think the Focke Wulfs must have seen us because they didn't come back. There were a lot of Canadians in the area and tank training regiments, and it was quite interesting to use the heightfinders to scan the local hillsides and one got some graphic pictures of courting couples. One chap was quite meticulous in his lovemaking in that he carefully folded his trousers into their creases, rolled them up and put them under the lady's head.

Another amusing story happened in Shoreham. I was Orderly Sergeant one sunny afternoon when a draft of replacement gunners arrived on a lorry and the Sergeant Major and I in shirt-sleeve order walked along to see them. Of course they could see my rank because it was on my arm on a band, but Smedley's crown and laurel wreaths were on his wrist on a watchstrap and not readily noticeable. Anyway, as we got near the lorry one of the gunners shouted, "Catch this mate" and threw his kitbag at Smedley who caught it and put it down. Another then asked what it was like and was the SM as rough as they expected a SM to be. I speak as I find, so truthfully said I thought he was OK. This banter went on for a bit until one of them said something else to Smedley who couldn't take it any longer and keep his face straight. He shouted "What the hell do you think this is?" and pointing to his wrist, revealed his rank,"A blacking tin lid?". Uproar let loose and there were profuse apologies, which we found most amusing.

On the IOW we did a bit of shooting at the raiding Luftwaffe who by this time were only coming over in dribs and drabs, the huge formations having long since finished. One afternoon when half the troop had gone to do some firing out to sea, I was told to act as Gun Position Officer when a lone FW 190 flew over. Lt. Bull, who will appear later, decided that he should take charge and sent me into the CP to control the operations. As the enemy kept going into the clouds we needed a radar-controlled shoot but he thought he should again be in charge so out I went to the CP. The result of all this was that we never fired a single round!

In 1943, we went off to a place called Beckenham where we were to re-equip ready for, as we understood it, the invasion of Europe, or the second front. This was quite a change from the tents and other temporary huts because we lived in very posh houses, the Sergeant's Mess being a very nice detached house in Scott's Lane at Shortlands. The troops were in large houses on Albemarle Road, which they enjoyed because it was midway between Beckenham and Bromley. The only drawback being that most of the houses were within a stone's throw of RHQ and were a little bit under the eye of the Colonel and more particularly the RSM.

Slowly but surely we got new guns. These used to arrive at Beckenham Junction station and we'd take a squad of men down there and haul them back by hand up Albemarle Road and proceed to do gun drills in the street. Eventually of course we got a full complement of 8 for the battery, together with gun towing vehicles and our radar sets. We'd had the radar actually for quite a long time and spent at least one day a week going off into the Kent countryside on TEWTS or "tactical exercises without.

We used to locate a gunsite, deploy the radar, making sure it worked in the area, and then we'd have to put the details down on a map according to grid references etc. and send these off to HQ. Later we realised that this was in preparation for deploying the guns against the doodlebugs that appeared once the Second Front had started but of course by that time we were in France ourselves. It was nice to think we did a little bit of useful work at that time.

Round about November '43 I went back early from my leave to go to a Regimental dance at Beckenham Baths Hall and spent most of the evening in the bar with the Padre, Rev. John White. We did go up for the last waltz and I managed to find a partner who had to pass our Mess so I walked with her and arranged to see her the next evening.

Unfortunately, I was told in the morning to go over to a depot in Middlesex to pick up a new early warning radar set that was mounted in a 15cwt Ford truck and it took a little longer than expected and I was very late getting back. However, we drove down to Shortlands Station where I'd arranged to meet this young lady and although we were something like 40 minutes late she was still there. I explained that I'd been to collect the vehicle and we'd have to scrub round our date.

She suggested I collect her from home after changing and there I met her mother and father and went for a drink in the pub. This gentle carry on proceeded and I met a Mr and Mrs Higgs who I came to know as Charlie and Lil and we all played darts in the pub. One night Charlie said "You must come to our Christmas party, I'd like you to meet my eldest daughter, she's smashing". So after we'd fed and watered the troops on Christmas Day I excused myself
from the Sergeant's Mess and went down to Charlie's and met his eldest daughter, and I agreed with him, she was smashing. So nice in fact that five months later we got married.

Looking back it seems a bit of a whirlwind romance and rather took us by surprise because we originally thought we might get engaged on Joyce's birthday on 23rd April. As that date got nearer we came to realise that D- Day was imminent and so the engagement became a wedding. Of course there was the usual concerns at the speed of the marriage but they need not have worried, no one was pregnant. In the event the wedding went off well, Joyce and her mother got hold of some material in Petticoat Lane and she and her sister Shirley who worked for Norman Hartnell, made the 3 bridesmaids dresses. Joyce had a friend at work that lent her a bridal gown. We were married in St.Georges’ Church Beckenham by the Padre and had the reception in the local church hall. The best man was Dave Berry who was my Lance Sergeant on the radar and a very good pal. The only sad aspect was that my Father couldn't get a pass. By this time he was in the military police at Catterick and about a month before D-Day all leave apart, from compassionate leave, was stopped in the UK.

In spite of all my father's service and the fact that his son was getting married just prior to D- Day, he was unable to be there. This was something I really regretted, and I'm sure my Father did. My mother was very upset about it and she had to come down from Rotherham to London with Geoffrey and Peter, my brothers, and I'm sure she missed him at that time. Another of Joyce's friends lent us their semi in Grove Park so we spent our honeymoon there, travelling back to Joyce's mother's during the day to see visitors etc. and I think we went up to Rotherham but I can't remember, perhaps we didn't.

Anyway, after a short few days I had to go back as the unit had moved from Beckenham up to Towcester to prepare for D Day. During my absence all the waterproofing equipment, canvas and Bostick and scrim, etc. had been put on under the supervision of Dave Berry but when I got back I thought part of it wasn't right and we did it all again. So I was very popular!. Anyway, we managed it and early in June we left Towcester and proceeded to our final embarkation camp on Wanstead Flats where we were incarcerated in a barbed wire camp. We were issued with maps of the beaches, Occupational Francs and told that on no account could we go outside. This was unfortunate because Dave Berry only lived a couple of miles away at Leytonstone and he did want to see his widowed mother before he went off, but we couldn't get any passes under any scheme whatever. However the BSM, Tag Walker, decided to do something about it. He got all the Sergeants together, fell us in on one of the little roads on the camp and proceeded to march us out through the gate where he smartly saluted the guard. We marched down to a great big pub called The Green Man. Dave dashed off to see his mum and we went in the pub for a drink. Unfortunately we chose the wrong bar for the only three people in there were the Troop Commander and two Lieutenants and to say that the silence was pregnant was an understatement. Anyway, Lieutenant Bull who grew in our estimation from that moment on came forward and said "How nice to see you gentlemen. What will you have to drink?" As there were about 10 or 12 of us you can imagine it wasn't going to be a cheap round but he broke the ice and everything went well. Dave came back and we marched back into the camp and no one was any the wiser. So much for security but now the time was ready for us to appreciate the need for that discipline as lives were on the line.

After a 24 hour delay the invasion was on- we were off to France.

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