大象传媒

Recollections of a Gunner on the Anzio Beachhead January to June 1944

I wrote the following poem ten years ago on the occasion of the 50th鈥� anniversary but it is still pertinent :-

Dig boys dig there is no choice
Such is the shelling, Such is it鈥檚 voice;
Splinters fly fast charged with hate
Dig boys dig, no time to wait.

Dugouts, trenches and places in which to function,
Command 鈥損osts, gunpits and those for sacred unction;
Dig them deep, square and stable
But penetrate not the water 鈥搕able.

There鈥檚 the rub -- rising water ever seeping
Soaking our blankets while we鈥檙e sleeping.
Place used unstopped fuel cans on the floor,
Empty collected water at midnight and four.

Large bombs from the Luftwaffe pose problems few,
But small anti-personnel bombs certainly do.
Roof over dugouts with coppice-wood first,
Surmount with brushwood and compact earth.

Hear, full throat, the Captains bellow,
Take post 鈥揻ast 鈥� he calls, more mellow!
Picks and spades exchange for pencil,
Ready sharpened of super tensile.

Co-ordinates plotted, swing the arm,
Deduce the switch, the range, the charge,
Adjust for temperature, wind 鈥� speed and direction.
Check and check again for error detection

Data to the guns via the wire,
Traverse, elevate, load and fire;
Add 鈥� less 鈥� minus 鈥� more,
Target hit 鈥� all eight guns roar

Return to digging, return to guns,
Digging, gunning and ammunition runs
Shells weigh heavy, four at a time,
Hurrying and stumbling through mud and slime.

The battle increases by width and tempo,
The guns thunder in marked crescendo;
Regiment upon regiment join the fight
With continuous fire by day and night.

Ammunition stocks falling low,
Other than emergency 鈥� fire rate slow.
Step up liaison with all O P, (see note 1)
Maintain full support to infantry.

Enemy unyielding forces strategy review,
Move boys quickly to positions new.
Dig boys dig, there is no choice,
Such is the shelling, such is it鈥檚 voice.

Severed by the shelling the lines go dead
Waiting for signallers their route to tread,
Dogging tracers, bullets, mines and mortars,
Mending the breaks before returning to quarters.

As Winter recedes, Spring comes on stage,
Deciduous leaves appear in our gaze;
Only to be blackened by clouds of cordite,
Deeping the grey by depriving them of sun-light.

The sun now dominant dispells the chills
But our hearts miss a beat when we view the Alban hills.
Free from Winter cloud they loom large and near
From them our positions observed so clear

Dig boys dig taking every care
To hide us from the enemy鈥檚 stare;.
Compact the earth high around
Camouflage well the finished mound

The Royal Engineers give screening smoke,
But a dispelling wind can make it all a joke.
Movement only by night; vehicles grind and grown
With ammunition, food, water, mail from home.

Sounds, sharp in lower ambient, escort the night鈥檚 advance;
The thud of shells from rumbling guns, flashes prancing in evil dance;
Fixed- line firing , Spandaus and Bren and Anzio Annie overhead, (See note 2)
The croaking of a million frogs caps the eerie dread (See note 3)

The battles unrelenting, boil and simmer,
Month on month and our spirits grow dimmer.
Only the dead, the wounded and the broken,
Find relief when the Padre has spoken.

For those that remain in the service of the guns
There鈥檚 no relief from their cordite drenched slums.
Until they move, then neither can we;
Talk is blurred, meantime, with blaspheme.

Oh tell us what鈥檚 happening beyond our patch;
Shh 鈥� secrecy 鈥� that鈥檚 the catch.
Returning to dugouts, like oversize moles,
Mystery and boredom eat into our souls.

Insensible to dates or days of the week;
Of anniversaries or birthdays we never speak;
Our concentrated thought is to the military factor.
To that we perform like a well-versed actor.

Approaching Companies, herald change of infantry places,
Quietly, in single file they pass, with unsmiling faces,
Their inner thoughts perhaps, that we are better off than they.
Well perhaps, but in weariness and fear, who can say?

Notwithstanding speculations we admire them to the hilt;
Welsh, English, Irish, Scots, resplendent, the Captain in his kilt;
We admire too the 鈥淢edics鈥� for their soothing expertise,
To those frantic calls for help, to which others may simply freeze.

New orders surprise, - move east in late May
There to support Infantry Divisions USA.
The Regiment reacts with pride and passion ,
Yet somewhat agog at this brotherly action.

But uncertainty and mystery are quickly allayed,
In the breakout battle we shall soon be engaged.
Preparation proceeds at a pace 鈥� fast yet quiet,
Straining hard to satisfy the guns insatiable diet.

At first light, the guns, full 300 strong,
Shell enemy positions for half 鈥� an 鈥� hour long;
The fighting ensues through days of intense heat,
Then slowly the foe makes a northern retreat.

Together we pursue him through foothills and plain,
But not without set鈥揵acks and not without pain,
Shallow trickling streams flow with blood,
From once gallant soldiers now dead in the mud.

Soon on the Plain our orders will change;
The Americans go on, we shall disengage.
So like a banking engine leaving the train,
We slow, move west to join First Division again.

South of the Tiber, West of Rome,
The Division stages a temporary home,
From grey, war鈥搕orn landscape to one of light and beauty,
We count our blessings and muse on the Anzio duty.

Permanently confined to the guns domain,
At 鈥� post or stand 鈥� by it was all the same;
3264 continuous hours 鈥� 136 days 鈥� the figures are stark;
No wonder they made an indelible mark.

No baths, just ablutions in a canvas 鈥� type pail,
Half full of cold water, soap sodden and stale;
For the men that shared it, their chins were a mess,
The dark came off worst, the fair the best.

Food when you could get it , was well received;
Though dressed- up bully beef never deceived.
The cooks, encumbered by millions of flies,
Heroic men all 鈥� but be wary of their pies

Mess tins, freed from ants, hold meat and duff, (See note 4)
Consumed with a spoon 鈥� knife and fork lost!
Cleaned with grass 鈥� water too greasy and cold 鈥�
Battered mug, full of tea, more priceless than gold.

Once a week 鈥� or more or less,
A change of shirt, socks and undervests.
Two ounces of chocolate and 100 cigarettes (50 free) 鈥�
And perhaps a tot of rum mixed in the tea.

Letters from home written in truthful bliss,
Ours 鈥� full of deceit 鈥� in antithesis;
For what can one write 鈥� when nothing may be revealed,
And, for good measure, censored, before being sealed.

No wine, no women, no songs or canteens.
No newspapers, no radio, no books or magazines
No ENSA concerts so no Vera Lynn!
Just enemy leaflets of our wives 鈥� in sin.

SEQUEL

The human cost, in dead may readily be seen,
In campaign cemeteries trim, serene;
More difficult the greater number scarred
With lives, some in misery, all permanently marred,
Innocent men, adored for the while,
Condemned for life; war their trial.

Notes
1 OP - Observation Post
2 Anzio Annie 鈥� the name given to shells aimed at the port of Anzio by German long range gun
3 Frogs in the Pontine Marshes on the east side of the beachhead
4 Duff 鈥� Army jargon for desert

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