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My Fathers’ Story
I was born in 1946, and have always had an interest in the War through my Fathers' stories of his time as a Sapper, and my Mother living in Eastbourne through the War and bombing.
My Mother recently died, and among her documents I found my fathers' memoirs. These are written as an ordinary soldier of 19 at the outbreak of War, and covering 6 years of service. He fought through France and escaped at Dunkirk, followed by duty in the Far East, fighting in Burma, up to Kohima and Imphal, until he was wounded by machine gun fire near Mount Popa in April 1945.

I have re-typed my Fathers' notes from the originals, just as he wrote them.

“M Y M E M O I R S�
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“OR THE STORY OF A MAN WHO SERVED IN HIS MAJESTY’S FORCES FOR SIX YEARS…….
MUCH TO HIS ANNOYANCE !�

F O R E W O R D
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When the reader picks up this book he will wonder why I wrote it!......after he has read it he will still wonder why I wrote it! It is the story of a Territorial Unit which travelled many miles during the course of six years, as the reader ploughs his way through he will notice that I get more cynical as time goes on, that denotes time passing in the Army. All nasty remarks about ‘the People who run the country’ are meant, I refuse to apologise for my attitude towards ‘The Brightest Jewel’ in the British Crown, honestly I should hate to see the ‘Dullest One’. If any ex-Army Officer reads these Memoirs I sincerely hope that he will not blush at the comments made about him…..he will know that they are perfectly true. If I hurt anybody’s feelings I am not sorry. The only thing that I regret is the fact that I have no Red Tape with which to bind the book, if I could do so I should have a permanent reminder of my Army Life….sorry, I meant ‘Existence’

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Signed by a man who
answered the call of his
King and Country????????

PART 1

Life with The Terrier’s

In the July of 1939 the 208 Field Company, Royal Engineers enjoyed a fortnight’s camp at Swingate near Dover. War was an overhanging shadow at that time, but most men were of the opinion that it would come sooner or later.
On the 1st September the blow came, the T.A. was mobilised and the Ordnance Yard at Eastbourne became a hive of industry. The men were arriving at various times during the afternoon, and during the evening as well, which gave everything and everybody a tense atmosphere. Even at this early stage of the war we began to appreciate the workings of the Army in general, providing a person looked fit he was passed as A.1 by an overworked Civilian Doctor, perhaps he received extra for every fit man!. but that could never be.
Most men had visions of going home that night, some were lucky while others did their first war time guard. Most of the population of Eastbourne appeared to gather round the gates of the Ordnance Yard expecting to see the whole unit catch the bus for France ..., visions of Flanders mud left from the last War floated before our eyes, but the first night in the Army passed ‘sans incident’ which being interpreted means without any excitement.
Sunday the 3rd brought the Declaration of War, we received the news in Church during Parade service, but one and all remained unmoved as we waiting for the end of a rather boring Sermon The following week was spent in Eastbourne, and everybody lived at home and went down to the Ordnance Yard for parades. Each morning found the company running along the seafront in steel helmet, respirator at the alert, which caused much amusement amongst the civilian population, actually the men took a poor view of the whole matter but little did they realise that the worst was to come in the following years.
The second week in September found us all on our way to a new station somewhere in the country, no one liked the idea at the time but fully realized that the Army had the last say in any matter, so trucks were and a small convoy moved off' for an unknown destination out in the wilds of England. After a pleasant journey through Ashdown Forest the convoy arrived at a small place known as Groombridge, everything looked rather grim at the time to the new inhabitants but things in general soon became organized, the billets were old houses, the wash places had neither walls or roof as they were placed in the open one could enjoy a cold shower if it was raining at the time of performing your ablution. The period at this country village was spent quite pleasantly, and the monotony was broken each week-end by visiting parents and wives who generally brought ample food supplies for the following week. The Army paid the men the large sum of fourteen shillings per week, this paid for the mouthwash at the local after that scrounging and borrowing were the main events of the week. Church Parades were held each Sunday, the choir being provided by the unit, halos were issued at the door and collected after the service. Cookhouse fatigues were rather gruesome in those days especially if they fell on the week-end but most men managed to find a substitute for a packet of' cigarettes or a bribe of some description. Tunbridge Wells was visited many times, trucks were laid on by the unit and returned fairly late at night, again money was the main worry. After a few weeks at this station rumours began to go around the village, strange ones which were rather disturbing to the local community, these rumours however became true facts before much time had elapsed, the unit was on the move, but where to?… there could be one answer and that was France. Kit was issued, new webbing and clothing and the various bits and pieces which one has to carry into battle, and as can be expected the normal length of Red Tape was added to each mans kit for use at a later date. Stores were now ready and the unit was prepared to move as soon as possible, the waiting period is always monotonous. The scene was set, the unit collected on the station complete with all kit numerous odds and ends, i.e. accordions and other musical instruments. The train was loaded with the usual care and precision, ordinary soldiers ten in a carriage, officers four in the same sized compartment, and to this day nobody knows the reason why this should be. The train started off along the one way track while the men had a last look at the green English countryside, when they would see it again nobody knew. After a few hours journey we arrived at Southampton and stayed on the dockside for some time. The most grim recollection I have of that dock, was the type of Pork Pies sold to any hungry person who took the risk of eating one, I say one, because nobody in their frame of mind would ever try two. The time came to get on the boat, not a very large one but big enough to carry us all safely over the water. The trip was an uneventful one, the worst thing which happened was when the cook decided to put salt in the tea instead of sugar, that kind gesture was not appreciated by anyone. When dawn broke we found ourselves at a French port, which we found out later was Cherbourg. It was there that I enjoyed my first wash on French soil, my hand basin was an old petrol with tin the lid cut away and the water was cold but fairly clean, anyhow I felt much cleaner after performing my ablutions. Thus ended the first phase of a new life, we were all wondering what lay ahead of us in that strange land of France. There were many small incidents which took place in England but would be of no interest to any one who did not know the Unit as a whole. From the next chapter the reading should become interesting and amusing as we were all beginning to appreciate the finer points of Army life.

…â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦â¶Ä¦.

Contimued in Part II A

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